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#he won with fucking speed and brains
getousatoruu · 6 months
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THAT’S MY SON MY BABY BOY
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months
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Hey so Wonu overstimulating you, and Mingyu watching because he wants to know why you're so loud, and he needs proof.
tw: dom!wonwoo, sub!reader (fem), voyeur!mingyu, male masturbation, use of sex toys, praise, squirting, overstimulation, possessiveness - minors dni.
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You don't know if you want to crawl into a hole and disappear from the face of earth or devote a statue for your boyfriend's sake. Maybe you don't even have the necessary functional brain cells at the moment to actually decide.
All you know is that you want Wonwoo to throw away that damn magic wand and rearrange your guts in front of his hot best friend.
"I almost feel sorry for her, she hasn't stopped moaning ever since you started." Mingyu grunts as he watches your legs shake again, his own hand occupied on his thick cock.
"You were the one who wanted to know why she's so loud." Wonwoo refreshes his friend's memory and moves the wand closer to your entrance.
"Wish I was the reason she's so damn loud." Mingyu throws his head back on the chair, his fingers spreading his precum over his shaft.
"One more word about this and I'm kicking you out." The older man grits his teeth and presses the toy closer on your pussy.
"F-Fuck, Won- I'm gonna cum!" You cry out and squirt on the fabric of your panties, some of your juices dripping on your boyfriend's lap.
"Loud and messy." Mingyu hisses while rubbing the tip of his cock.
"And mine. Do not forget that, Gyu." Wonwoo looks directly at the other man, his free hand rubbing your inner thigh.
"W-Wonu-" You sob between moans, your hands holding his wrists in a futile attempt to stop him. "I c-can't take it anymore."
"Don't be like that, sweetheart." He presses a kiss on your cheek and lets his hand roam over your white now turned translucent panties, gathering some of your cum with his fingers. "I know your pussy can give me one more, hm? One more and I'll give you anything you want."
"P-Promise?"
"Anything for you, pretty girl."
You part your legs again and let him put the wand directly over your clit and he turns it on the max setting, keeping it there until your legs start shaking again.
The cotton barrier separating the toy from your clit adds on the pleasure, the fabric clinging on your pussy like second skin and showcasing every ridge and curve of it.
"God, I can see her clenching even with her panties on." Mingyu moans and speeds up his fist, bringing himself closer to his climax.
"Are you close, sweetheart? Are you gonna cum with pretty boy over there?" Wonwoo asks you with a sickeningly sweet voice and you nod furiously.
"Words, darling."
"Fuck, I'm cumming, Won, I'm gonna squirt!" You yell and arch your back off his chest, squirting harder this time, toes curling and nails digging on his thighs.
Your senses are overwhelmed from the intensity of your climax, completely missing the ropes of cum splattering on Mingyu's abdomen, adding white streaks on the golden of his skin.
Wonwoo lets out a low grunt of satisfaction when you rest on his body, nearly passing out from exhaustion. He turns off the toy, softly petting your hair.
He gently lifts you in his arms, trying his best to carry you to the bathroom for a thorough cleanup.
"Hey, what about me!?" Mingyu whines breathlessly.
"What about you?" Wonwoo asks nonchalantly.
"Don't I get a cleanup sesh?"
"You have legs that can carry you to the bathroom." The older man deadpans and Mingyu huffs dramatically, looking down on the mess he made all over his torso.
"Motherfucker."
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wikiangela · 1 month
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honestly the way and speed at which I went from "wait, who's Tommy? oh he's been on the show before? wait, who?" to "omg why are people obsessing over this guy already" to "I still don't really see it" in 7x03 to "oh no I love this but I don't like him calling buck evan" to "Tommy calling Buck evan is the greatest thing and I adore this so much" and to just being so fucking obsessed with him and bucktommy is so fucking insane lmao
it happened so quickly and so intensely, he won me over before he even kissed Buck istg, and then bucktommy just took up permanent residence in my brain lol
lou ferrigno jr I'm obsessed with you, sorry I ever doubted the tommy storyline lol
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celaenaeiln · 10 months
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Am I interested in Dick Grayson's innovativeness and how that makes him a terrifying opponent?
Nah, not really, no, it's no- EXCEPT THAT I AM!
I love your analysis and honestly, I always surf through the dick Grayson tag once a day to see if u have posted. Pls drop the innovatiness wala analysis. I would absolutely eat it up
ADSAJHFGAJLHADJLHA YOU CAN'T SEDUCE ME LIKE THAT-MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!
But I am here to deliver *bows*
Let's start this off with a bang
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Dick is completely naked except for a towel and with one (well defined) leg he hooks the handle of the beer bucket and sends it smashing into Midnighter to stop him from using the knife on another person.
Pure. Fucking. Platinum.
That move was so delicious, there's an ease-fluidity-grace-to that split second movement. Also notice how accurate his aim is despite swinging it with the arc of his toes. The bucket slammed right into the medulla oblongata, or more specifically the pyramidal tracts which are crucial for controlling voluntary muscular movements. Nerves from the brain cross over at that area as they go down and then synapse onto other nerves that are responsible for controlling muscles when they leave the spinal cord. The precision at which he aimed the bucket is glorious. And with what? His feet.
The only reason Midnighter wasn't injured is because he is a meta which is the point. Otherwise Dick wouldn't have aimed there unless he was fighting an enemy.
Oh that brings me to my next point.
Dick has extraordinary control of his actions
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He's so right though. Nightwing doesn't need to kill because fighting is too easy for him. I swear he has some kind of messed up idea (aside from his need to be absolutely good) that killing someone with a gun would take the joy out of fighting. He loves to live life on the hardest mode only.
The rapid fire throw of the gun, calculating the distance, time, velocity of return, and angle? I mean I studied physics and calculating even half of that on paper is a headache. The fact that he did it in one second? It's extraordinary. Things that are pure, dumb luck to literally everyone else is carefully calculated at a speed faster than light, making it look like luck. Damn.
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Yeah.
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Forget Slade. Midnighter is my new favorite nemesister.
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DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FOUGHT WITH?! WHILE DEATHSTROKE AND BLACK ADAM WERE FIGHTING WITH META POWERS AND A CURSED SWORD, HE FUCKING WRAPPED CHAINS AROUND HIMSELF LIKE A BOSS AND WHIPPED THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MAN.
Please take a moment of silence to relish in this sight.
Dick's innovativeness is a formidable skill when fighting allies.
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Dick and Ras are evenly matched in sword fighting.
Wait, wait. I don't need any doubts about Dick's strength in sword fighting so I'm going to include a couple panels here:
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Dick fights Azrael to a standstill which is absolutely incredible because Azrael solos. He's gone through many upgrades and skills and is one of the best fighters ever. He's even defeated Bruce.
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He also defeated Jason and Tim together in Batman and Robin Eternal.
This is just another point towards the fact that Dick actually won in his fight against Bruce before going into Spyral. They weren't holding back.
Oh yeah. Ra's vs Dick panel, Dick and Ra's aren't going anywhere because Dick is a swordsman equivalent to one of the best in the world. So how do you win a draw? By one upping the opponent. He swings his foot up in midair and completely defeats him. "But that isn't a defeat...Ra's just stopped fighting!" It was complete defeat because Ra's is intelligent and knows when he can't win. Also they have been fighting for a while until they reached the breaking point in the battle. This move is a show of how Dick has that just one inch more that will lead him to be a victor.
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Ra's honors Dick so much he tried to give the sword he used to fight with Batman because he thinks Dick is worthy of it. Can anyone receive a higher honor than this from that man?
He'll also use the broken glass of a car window to take down his opponent. If that's not innovation, then what is?
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But one last thing since a car door cannot be considered innovative these days.
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sticks. He literally took two twigs off the ground to use as weapons against his highly skilled, one of the best assassins, great-grandfather who is fighting with daggers in his hands and all over his body.
But you know the best part?
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He draws his opponent to a tie. A tie? Not a win? No it was win after, considering he used his relative's falling body as a launching pad in the middle of the air when they were falling off the bridge to grab onto the bridge with the help of his friend. So it was his win but it's insane how incredible Dick's skills are.
It's really innovative because who thinks of using twigs and winning? Let me also clarify another point. Dick could've used the knives he'd gotten from his talon suit and thoroughly won because when he was brain washed he almost killed Red Condor from how skilled he was but he conscientiously chose to use twigs. In a sword fight. This man.
His improvisation is an asset that many have come to know him for and classify him as dangerous because he can fight with anything, anywhere, and win.
Something I want to end with. Dick only fights people who are stronger than him. I know he's fought mob characters and stuff but his enemies? They are all metas, assassins, skilled fighters, Russian Black Ops, and more. Essentially, people who are the top of the class in their categories and him defeating them equally and fairly is the reason why he has the respect of his enemies. He's just that good.
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toomuchracket · 10 months
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keep dreaming (d word matty smut)
(pre-relationship. mentions of unprotected sex. basically, matty's in his bed and he simply cannot stop thinking about you...)
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in an ideal world, matty wouldn't be doing this.
in an ideal world, he would have staved off the nerves, gotten a grip, bit the bullet, and asked you to come home with him. part of him thinks he should've - it's not as if he hasn't done it before, with girls nowhere near as beautiful and girls he didn't like half as much as you.
but that's the point, he thinks, that's why he didn't. you're too special to him for your first intimate moment to be a post-awards show shag at his house. granted, he'd fucking worship you if it was, both in bed and then out of it, for every subsequent minute of his life... but he'd far rather take you on a few dates and spoil you first, before getting you into bed.
you... bed... fuck. despite himself, matty can't stop thinking about it.
or stop from gently stroking himself to said thoughts, caving further into that little voice in his head saying "imagine what it would feel like if it was her hand instead of yours" on loop.
god, he's sick for this. but he can't help it. after all, matty knows all too well what your right hand - the hand you use to write memos to him at work, and therefore the one you would surely use on him in bed - feels like, wrapped around a part of his body. less than an hour ago, it had grasped his wrist as you tugged him to the dancefloor at the afterparty, beaming warmly enough to melt his heart and redden his cheeks.
and then it had slid down his hand and twisted to grip the tips of his fingers, and matty was a goner. he mimics the motion now on his cock with a breathy whimper of your name, and repeats it - this time, slightly more softly, slightly more like you would. shit. you would look so good wanking him off, matty thinks, the edges of your nails ever so lightly scraping against him as you move; those nails that kickstarted this specific fantasy of you giving him a handjob, after you excitedly showed him their design when you first saw him earlier, a design based on the band's newest album, described by you as "look, matty, you're all over my hands". he had smiled at the adorable gesture and kissed your palm in gratitude, but his thoughts had gone somewhere far dirtier - literally - at your words.
he's jumping the gun with thinking about his cum all over your pretty nails now, though, so matty goes back to imagining your handjob position - he thinks of you lying on your stomach in front of him, looking up that way you do when he tells you something interesting: those beautiful eyes of yours all sparkly and focused and knee weakening-ly distracting, pretty lips curved and cheeks lifted into a bashful little smile.
those lips... always so soft-looking (and feeling, matty's sure, given he's a frequent witness to your habit of religiously applying lipbalm) and definitely kissable, but even more so tonight, lined and glossy. the colour looked shockingly perfect on you, and when he first saw you earlier he'd had to shove down a memory of a makeup artist for a shoot telling him that the perfect lipstick colour is the same as one's nipples before he started spiralling. now, though, in the solitary comfort of his own bed, matty lets his brain wind itself into imagining yours, spots of that lipstick shade on your perfect tits - accentuated incredibly tonight by the black silk of your cocktail dress, it has to be said - and imagining the way they would brush against him as you moved forward to wrap your lips around him, the same way you wrapped them around one of the bottles of expensive champagne given to the band's table after they won.
fuck. matty's wrist speeds up almost involuntarily at the thought of you sucking him off, while his other hand threads itself into the bedsheets the same way he knows he'd thread it into your hair, sliding the soft waves of tonight's hairstyle away from your beautiful face. he knows you would smile around him at that, the same little sweet smile you give matty whenever he appears with a coffee for you or offers you a cig or does anything requiring a bit of thankfulness, followed by a little "thank you" and a hum of contentment when you get what you wanted or needed. it makes him swoon at the best of times - it would surely ruin him if you did it with his cock in your mouth.
matty speeds up his movement again, imagining you humming and moaning happily as you slide your mouth up and down his length, whimpering when the tip hits the back of your throat. ignoring the inkling of guilt that appears in the back of his mind as he does, matty wonders just how deep you'd be able to take him. not that he'd ever force you to do anything you couldn't or didn't want to, and not that it would matter, because he knows if you actually were to suck him off he'd have to fight not to cum immediately, but he has a sneaking suspicion that you'd try to completely deepthroat him - he knows how stubborn you are, and he's sure he's not hallucinating the way you blush whenever he thanks you for going above and beyond to help him out.
and it's not like he'd dissuade you from trying; at the thought of you, teary-eyed but turned-on, inching slowly down his length to take it all, throat closing slightly around him, lips and nose pressed against his lower stomach, moaning, he bucks his hips up again almost involuntarily with a whine, beginning to properly fuck his fist the way he would fuck your mouth if you wanted him to. would you swallow, matty wonders, take every last drop of his cum down your aching throat and clean off the tip with little kitten licks? would he let you?
or would he stop fucking your mouth as he feels the orgasm start to build, so he can fuck you until you both cum instead?
god. what a thought that is, matty gently coaxing your head up from his cock and kissing you, before rolling you onto your back and just burying himself inside you. he fucks his fist the way he would you, mixing slow, controlled thrusts in amongst shorter, sharper ones to rile you up, before setting a strong rhythm with his hips that - hopefully - would have you screaming for him. he groans your name at the thought of that, wanking desperately now - not necessarily desperate to make himself cum, but desperate to see your eyes roll back in time with his hips, your jaw drop in pleasure, those fucking tits of yours bounce with every thrust; to feel your lips on his as you kiss him like you're trying to devour him, your hot breath in his open mouth as you moan his name into it, your long, gorgeous nails digging crescents into his back, your legs quivering around his waist as you reach breaking point, and - the thing matty's most desperate for - your cunt clenching around his cock, as he circles your clit and pulls an orgasm out from within your very bones.
matty's so fucking close now, hips jerking wildly into his hand, eyes heavy and clouded with pleasure, a cacophony of moans and groans and cries of your name leaving his lips and turning to incoherent dirty talk as they meet the cold air of the bedroom. "ohhhhh, fuck, m'gonna fucking cum, baby, shit, need to fuck you, mmmmmmmph, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum."
there is, however, one final thing for matty to consider about his fantasies of you before he reaches his orgasm - where would he cum, if he was with you right now? he could pull out, and let you either finish him off in your hand or mouth, coating your throat or covering your pretty nails like he briefly imagined earlier. or he could finish himself over you, decorate your beautiful face, your gorgeous tits, your soft stomach and your thighs.
truthfully, he'd let you choose - he'd just be grateful for the opportunity to even get to do anything with you in bed, and you'd look perfect in any of these scenarios (and in any scenario in general, really). but if matty got to pick, and you were okay with it, he wouldn't choose any of them.
what matty would do is stay buried inside you and fill you up with his cum, thrusting through his orgasm with his head buried in your neck, feeling you milk his cock for everything he has.
it's a delicious thought, and it's what tips him over the edge; with a final groan of your name and a "fuck!", matty cums all over his own hand, whimpering and lightly stroking himself until he stops pulsing out white fluid, which flows over his hand to pool on his lower stomach, reaching the very edge of his hip tattoo. in the aftershocks of orgasm, he can't help but imagine you cleaning it off with your tongue; with his free hand, matty reaches over to grab a pillow he can groan into to calm down before he finds himself cumming to the thought of you yet again. christ. he really is into you, isn't he?
matty doesn't move for a few minutes - the orgasm was so strong and took so much out of him that he just lies on his bed silently, until his breathing regulates and he comes back down to earth a bit. when the liquid on his stomach starts to feel icky, that's when he finally moves, swinging his legs onto the floor and walking to the bathroom to shower. he cleans his body just fine, but the grossness in his brain lingers a minute longer - he really just got off to imagining fucking you, his trusted friend and colleague, like some sort of depraved teenager. jesus christ.
if only he knew you'd just grinded yourself to an orgasm on your pillow thinking of the exact same thing.
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bisexualhomelander · 4 months
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F O R C E D F E M I N I S A T I O N | B U T C H L A N D E R
Billy runs his mouth.
Part of Billy should have known the joke would come back to bite him in the arse sooner than later. He shouldn't have invited the supe in at all, but definitely not with the offer of watching him have a wank. Homelander felt he had a foot in the door now, and if Billy had put that kind of depravity past him, he's probably dumber than he thought he was.
The sonic boom woke him up, and as much as he simply wanted to close the blinds on Homelander, curiosity did get the better of him eventually, and he opened the balcony door.
Before he had even asked to what he owed the pleasure of the late-night company, the supe had already pressed a few banknotes into his hand, and Billy instinctively tightened his fingers around them despite his bewilderment. "You said ten dollars to watch you jack off. What do I get for a hundred?"
Billy huffed in amusement, even if there was a bit of sound behind the huff. Shock that he couldn't quite conceal. Was he being propositioned?
Homelander had a smirk on his lips. "I'm serious. William. I can feel your blood pressure, you know? That includes knowing where your blood is, right now. Had I stayed last time, who knows how we'd have ended up."
Billy swallowed all the other choice words he had for the man and stared down at the money in his grip. "If you think you can buy me, cunt, think again."
"If it hurts your pride, fine." The supe plucked the dollars back out of Billy's fingers and threw them into the air. Billy watched them sail over the balcony and out of sight. That would make some lucky bastard's night. Not his problem. He didn't have to pay that out of his pocket.
Alright, supe wanted to play. He could have that, surely. Billy could almost feel the moment his brain turned itself off. He'd feel the consequences of his actions some later date; for now, he didn't want Homelander to think he won by flustering him. Sure, he was half-hard. Why not go all the way and hate himself for it once he was alone again? So he put on his most charming, shit-eating smile and replied: "Shitty pickup line there, luv."
Homelander's face was wiped blank for a moment before he could reign in his emotions at the sudden pet name. Point for Billy.
"See? That's how it's done. Now come in. Freezin' my bollocks off here, and I'm of no use to you if that happens, hm?"
Homelander had his bearings again and gave him an amiable smile, hiding his teeth. Why did the cunt always seem like he had something with an unpleasant taste in his mouth? Was that jaw ever slack?
"Not really that into cocks, if I'm honest."
Homelander chuckled. "And? Neither am I. Will that stop you?"
"Nah, it won't. But we're gonna do it my way."
"Fine by me." Homelander came inside and closed the door with his gloved hand. He even cleaned his boots on the door mat. "Bedroom's this way, I assume," he said and began to saunter off in the correct direction. Fucker had clearly x-rayed the apartment before, and Billy prayed it had been when he'd been here last and not right before he'd swept in to watch Billy sleep.
"We ain't goin' to the bedroom here, luv." It was likely impossible to actually surprise the supe. Last time, Billy had not even seen him fly off. Homelander moved at the speed of light, and so he must have seen the assault coming from a mile away, but it spoke to how much he wanted this that he let it happen anyway. Billy had him up against the wall in one smooth movement, and Homelander's legs were riding high on his waist like it was natural. "My way, remember?" Billy smeared the words against the supe's lips like spit and greedily drank down the answering whimper. "And if I say cock isn't what I'm looking for tonight, that's what goes, a'right?"
"You can fuck me if you want to," Homelander panted. He was lighter than Billy had imagined. Holding him up cost little energy, and Billy wasn't even properly awake. For a split-second, he wondered if he was still dreaming.
"Not into cocks, my arse. You're downright begging."
"I'm not begging for anything." The hand around Billy's throat had crept up so suddenly that it did shock him into silence for a second. "I won't beg on my knees for the right to see my son, and I will certainly not beg you to fuck me. I chose you for tonight because you are a disgustingly filthy excuse for a man who has no dignity left for his sorry life, and I knew I could get you if I wanted you. And here you are. So if you want me to leave your body intact, you better get your ass in gear and get me off."
With every ounce of willpower, Billy forced a swallow against the fingers pressing down. The grip loosened. They still held eye contact, and neither of them blinked first. Homelander was giving him a way to get his piece in. Well. Why not.
"You babble on like a woman, you know?"
"Hm?"
"Goin' on and on about things I don't wanna know. Gnawing my ear off here, mate." He leaned forward a bit, happy to see the supe's eyes dart to the left and right in an attempt to focus on both of his eyes. It made Homelander break the unblinking eye contact, lids fluttering rapidly. "Like a girl."
They were pressed together from the tips of their noses, to their chests, to their bellies, so it was easy to actually feel the way the cunt's cock throbbed at Billy's verbal abuse. "Yeah, that's right, hm? You wanna be my girl for the night? Daddy's girl?"
Up close like this, he saw the laser lights spring forth from Homelander's pupils first, slowly filling out the rest of his eyes. It looked fascinating from this perspective, even as the intense light immediately burned bright white spots into Billy's retina that he had to blink away. To anyone, it might have been threatening, but Billy was too worked up now, and he called the supe's bluff easily. "Bitching like you're PMSing, luv." He leaned his face into the heat emanating from Homelander's eyes to force his mouth open in a kiss. "Just from a bit of talking."
"Shut up-" The hand that landed over his mouth could have broken his jaw or taken it clean off, but Homelander knew how much pressure to use. Billy didn't think about how the supe had learned this. Or tried hard not to.
It wasn't difficult to pry the hand away and let the supe see his sly grin. "Gettin' shy already? Why you wanna shut me up so hard?"
"Nothing of value comes out of that mouth of yours," Homelander said.
"Oh, come now." Billy made certain to school his face into a disappointed frown. "You gonna lie to me? I can see you getting wet in that suit of yours."
It wasn’t wrong, exactly. There was a distinct dark spot where the head of Homelander's cock pressed into the fabric. Billy decided, however, that he liked the ambiguity of this game of his and wanted to see how much he could push the supe.
"Must be like a slip 'n slide between those legs."
"Don't-" Homelander began, but his body took over halfway into speaking, had him rub up against Billy like the mere mention of his arousal had reminded him of it. "Don't you ever shut up?"
Billy leaned forward to bite Homelander's ear. "You love it."
"I don't." Those baby-blue eyes tried to find Billy, and find him they did. Up close like this, he looked pretty. Innocent, somehow. The line of his mouth was still angry, but somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay something that wanted to give up and surrender to Billy. It was hypnotic.
Billy leaned forward and breathed his next word onto Homelander's mouth. "Liar."
Homelander whimpered when their mouths met, but he parted his lips readily and began to suck on Billy's tongue as soon as he had access, ashamed at his body's reaction and ready to shut Billy up. The supe tasted like absolutely nothing, not even toothpaste. It was almost unsettling, were it not for the wet warmth of his mouth that was like any other. What a weird thing to discover this fucker's humanity through.
Billy decided he'd had enough of the stalling and went to his knees. The supe's legs slipped from his waist in the movement; they were unsteady when holding up his weight.
Homelander willingly pushed his hips into Billy's hands as he began to open the belt holding the outfit together. He'd never seen the ins 'n outs of that. The suit wasn't one piece. It was a top and trousers that could be pulled down like leggins. Skin-tight and stuffed full of foam to give the impression of defined abs and pecs. Uncovering a bit of skin between the top half and the bottom half of the outfit felt like a forbidden pleasure, and Billy's mouth descended on an exposed hip bone before he even had time to plan out his move.
"Thought cock wasn't what you were looking to get," Homelander mumbled.
Billy huffed a laugh against the skin under his teeth and felt an almost nauseating flutter in his abdomen as shaky fingers held on to his shoulders. "Nah. I'm here for that pretty cunt you got hidden away." The fingers flexed and spasmed; Homelander's hips ground forward of their own accord.
Billy was so hard he felt dizzy with it, and he blinked to get his wits about him. He couldn't forget his mind completely. This was still none other than the monster who'd destroyed him - or the parts that were worth destroying anyway.
He pulled the ridiculous trousers of the outfit down to Homelander's knees and was met with...
"Red panties? You on the rag?"
"You're disgusting," Homelander commented, but he sounded so out of breath Billy considered the comment flattery.
"Gets you wet enough." The front of the supe's briefs was almost black with precum in the low light of Billy's living room. "Why give you pretty words when this gets the job done just fine, eh, bird?"
"Please." And oh, if that word didn't go straight to Billy's dick.
"Please what?"
Homelander squirmed, and Billy didn't help by blowing air on the wet spot where the cunt's cockhead was seen straining through the cotton. "Eat me-?" Shame clogged his throat, and now Billy did help out by leaning forward and rubbing his beard against an exposed thigh, earning something that came close to a mewl and finally got the answer he desired. "Eat me out. Daddy."
"Good girl." He pulled the briefs down to the rest of the way and went on to unzip the ridiculous red boots. The supe toed out of them so quickly he nearly tripped, and Billy made quick work of the rest of the clothes by pulling on them to let the cunt step out.
Half-naked, the masculinizing effects of the costume were visible. The clothed half of Homelander still looked imposing, but his naked legs were literal sticks. His ass round, but not nearly as firm as the outfit made it seem. Billy slid his hands up the back to cup the cheeks. "Leg on Daddy's shoulder, girl. Come on. Giddy up."
Homelander obeyed without complaint, like he was beyond words. Maybe Butcher had him where he wanted. And where was that even? In what universe did he want him? And was there still a remote chance he'd wake up hard and full of self-loathing?
Not much time to think about it when the current position spread the cunt's ass so deliciously and allowed Billy a good look at his hole. Fucker was shaved everywhere, it seemed, not a single hair more than necessary on him.
"Brazilian? Fine choice, princess."
"God, fuuuck." Homelander shivered, a foot pressing into Billy's shoulder blade with an amount of pressure that bordered on abusive. He'd get a bruise there. It drove him forward, though.
"Got the prettiest cunt I've seen." As if to prove a point, Billy lapped at the hole, huffing a laugh when he saw the muscle contract. "Look at that. Pinker than a virgin. Or is that it, huh? Anyone ever been where I am now?"
The silence was damning.
"Never had a man before." He held onto Homelander's thighs for leverage and pulled himself up again, shoving his face in for real this time.
Homelander's hand found his hair and pulled with surprising gentleness. It was an interesting contrast. Billy'd have sooner expected him to push him forward and not try to pull him backwards, but the cunt probably was lost to the pleasure and didn't remember how to move in any coordinated fashion. And they'd barely started.
He lapped at the furled muscle, relishing in the way it spasmed against his lips. As much as Homelander kept complaining, this he could hardly deny. This was his body talking.
No denying it; Billy'd always been an ass man. Something about getting his tongue in there had been appealing since a young age. The filth of it, sweat and musk. The embarrassment of his partners when they realized how much he loved inhaling all of it. Like a bloodhound.
Not with him. He was clean, no sweat, no smell. But aroused all the same and opening up to Billy's ministrations. The thighs around his face quivered. The hand in his hair went from insistent to demanding. Homelander's body was putting out heat like a furnace, and it drove sweat to Billy's brow.
"Fuck," he could hear a muffled voice from above. Was the cunt covering his mouth to keep in his noises? Afraid there were fans in the apartments around?
There was definitely movement happening, and Billy just knew without looking that Homelander meant to touch himself. He pulled back immediately, licked his lips where Homelander could see and looked up at him with disappointment.
Homelander's hand around his own cock went still, and his eyes were wide. He's scared he's been bad, Billy realized, and the thought made his neglected cock throb. Fuck, he'd have to get out of those trousers. The strain against the zipper was gonna kill him.
Billy gently pried the supe's hand away from his erection. "Pretty birds like you only come from getting their snatch eaten."
Homelander let out a wet sound that might have been a gasp or a sob. His eyes were teary, and- was that a red gleam or was Billy just suffering the first effects of hypoxia from spending minutes between those cheeks?
"You're close anyway. No reason to abuse that pretty lil' bean of yours."
"My-"
"Your clit, luv." Billy dove back in.
He tried not to get too smug at the gasp that Homelander let out when he managed to work his tongue in again. He knew it wouldn't do much for this one, but he rubbed his face sideways against an inner thigh anyway. At least give the notion of a notion of beard burn to a cunt with impenetrable skin. Felt soft to the touch, though. Real lifelike.
His own drool dripped down his chin and onto his sleep shirt, but he didn't plan on wiping it off. Half the fun was getting dirty and besides- "Fuckin' dripping, babygirl. Gonna squirt all over Daddy? Is that it? You gettin' close."
Homelander's head fell back against the wall; Billy could hear the small thud. How he still had enough of his wits to not slam it back so hard he went through the wall was beyond him. Cunt's self control was so ingrained it was a downright sad business. Though Billy really preferred to live, most days.
He gave it his all, tongue-punching the cunt's hole until his jaw ached because he needed to feel him break, he needed it more than he needed to come. He grinned when he could feel the first small contractions in the muscle, the way Homelander's body began to seize. His muscles started trembling where Billy was holding on.
"Come for Daddy."
"Fffuck!" The supe broke above him. Billy was wise to pull his tongue out before that happened, but did push his thumb into Homelander's perineum for some extra stimulation.
There was a hand in his hair again, but it felt downright weak, barely grasping.
Homelander's leg slipped off him tiredly, and the supe blinked at him with mild confusion, glassy-eyed and dopey, but apprehensive. Billy was almost sure he mirrored the expression.
He hadn't even orgasmed himself, but there was a sort of mental clarity barreling towards him like a train, and he really, really wanted to close his eyes before the headlights of that thing hit him.
Homelander took the decision from him because when Billy did blink, the pile of clothes on the floor and the entire supe had vanished into thin air.
He sat on the floor for a good half an hour before his aching knees forced him to get up and he managed to wipe his mouth with fingers that were just a bit too unsteady.
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chqnverse · 5 months
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SUBBY CHAN!! subby chan pretty please. with maybe a bit of face riding 🤭
and you're writing is actually really good. so good. might have binge-read your works teehee
- 🫧 anon
𖥻 Reward
♡┊ 𝐂𝐇𝐐𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; bangchan x fem!reader
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 :: you asked your boyfriend to ride his pretty face :)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 :: smut ( 18+ ), switch!reader, switch!chan, face riding, reader has bigger thighs, they are whipped for each other, unprotected sex ( don’t do that !!! ), slight aftercare, I was in a mood while writing but oh well 🤷‍♀️
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: I turned your ask into a tiny drabble my lovely 🫧 anon I hope you like it tho ✨ I’m glad you enjoy my work so much bubs💕
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You knew your boyfriend was handsome but the outfit he was wearing today did something with your brain…his hair looking ever so soft and the almost sheer top and the pretty necklace he was wearing was just beautiful. You’re so proud of Chan and the way his eyes sparkled when they won another award made your heart speed up. So you decided to treat your amazing boyfriend…when you both got home that day chan went to take a shower after giving you a passionate kiss. The way his lips feel against you made you feel butterflies in your stomach. So as soon as you hear the shower running and Chan’s soft humming you quickly change, pulling out your boyfriends favourite lingerie of yours a fully black set almost see through with tiny black bows on the straps of the bra and panties it was barely covering anything and it made you feel confident and pretty. You’re so focused on yourself in the mirror that you didn’t notice chan leaving the bathroom and walking over to you with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Chan swore his breathing stopped for a moment when he saw you standing there in front of your bedroom mirror. Chan loved when you felt good about yourself. He slowly walks up to you putting his hands around your waist. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this” Chan’s one hand pulling at the strap on the side of your underwear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck making you shiver. You slowly turn at to face Chan putting ur arms around his neck one hand playing with his soft hair. Chan hums in enjoyment at the front of your body pressed against his and your hand in his hair, his own hands started to wander around your body “wanted to give you a reward on your own baby” you whisper against his lips “so tell me Channie what do you want I will give you anything” you started kissing his neck, chan making room for you taking a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of your lips on him. “Anything Darling?” Chan asks when you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
The movement of your hips was controlled by your boyfriend while you couldn’t even focus on anything that wasn’t his plush lips on your cunt, you already came twice on his face and each time chan hummed in delight when he tasted your sweet high on his tongue. His warm tongue moving inside you and his nose was pressed against your clit making you see stars. “God darling you taste like fucking heaven” chan said making you whine. Chan swears he was in heaven with your plush thighs wrapped around his face and the way your breast where moving together with the sounds that left your mouth made his dick impossibly harder “Channie please wanna fell you inside me” you whine hands gripping on this hair like they are your lifeline. Chan couldn’t resist the need longer, longing to be inside your pretty cunt. Chan’s pushes you downward to his hard length. “Do it pretty girl ride me” you didn’t need to be told twice and quickly sink down on him making Chan’s eyes roll back, the way you feel around him send him even closer to his orgasm.
The way he was hitting your sweet spot makes you clench even tighter around him. You could feel your orgasm on the tip of your tongue chan knew your body like the back of his hand “come for me pretty girl” he whispered before kissing you passionately. You couldn’t hold back anymore and let go feeling your sweet relief wash over you. Chan quickly falling over the edge with you keeping his length as deep as he could go inside your warmth. You’re slowly coming down from your shared high your arms wrapped tightly around Chan “are you okay darling?” He whispered not wanting to disturb your bliss. You nod slowly kissing his lips once more. “I’m so proud of you Channie” you whispered, making Chan smile and tighten his hold onto you.
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How would the yanderes react to reader having super bad anxiety?
-😶‍🌫️anon
I didn't know if you wanted generic yandere subtypes, or specific characters, so I just chose a few of my favorite OCs!
Listed from (arguably) best yandere to worst (when it comes to dealing with anxiety) Some NSFW towards the bottom ❤️
Kirtch (10/10) expert
❤️ Knows all about anxiety (he is an expert an humans)
✨ Might seem a little cold, but that's because he will go into immediate nerd doctor mode
❤️ He would prefer to solve your anxiety issues without the use of the collar
✨ So expect a lot of pampering and note taking, presenting you with different solutions he's read about in outdated psychiatry books while watching you diligently
❤️ Baths with snacks and deep breathing exercises
✨ Would neglect his duties for you, and when you eventually look to be doing better, he's baby monitoring your room so he can leave work the moment you look like you need him <3
Lydia (9/10) too clingy
❤️ Undead, weighted blanket
✨ She doesn't understand what "anxiety" is, but knows it makes you look sad? Scared?
❤️ She doesn't like it, and it makes her mad that she can't kill it for you
✨ Since you won't tell her how to fix it, she keeps you inside the apartment
❤️ Expect a lot of kisses, everywhere
✨ The second it looks like you're hyperventilating, she's wrapped around your torso like a monkey, squeezing you as tightly as she can
❤️ She'll whisper words of love and affirmation into your ear as she constrains you, until you finally calm down
✨ Even after you calm down she'll still cling to you, murmuring (more to herself) about how sweet and lovely you are
Baby (7/10) what anxiety?
❤️ The second there was even a flash of adrenaline, that weird tingle that races down your spine, before your heart even starts to speed up: Baby would shut it down
✨ What anxiety?
❤️ He's literally controlling your mind at every second
✨ You don't need to worry; about anything
❤️ Unlike Kirtch who hesitates to use the collar, Baby has no issues manipulating your brain's chemistry
✨ And he sees nothing wrong with it, because it's all for keeping you happy <3
❤️ Of course, it'd make Baby a little upset that the anxiety showed up at all..
✨ But he can fix it
❤️ So don't worry <3
Cain (5/10) short fuse
❤️ His emotions (although oft hidden) always takes precedence over yours
✨ He understands what anxiety is, but because he's the type to kidnap his darling, he assumes the anxiety is his fault
❤️ and that pisses him off
✨ Assumes every and any negative emotion you feel is because of him, even if it's something you were diagnosed with long before the abduction
❤️ If he is feeling remorseful he may shift into a giant lynx to cuddle, trying to soothe you with his giant warm body
✨ If he's already upset he may respond in one of two ways:
❤️ Leaving you alone for hours to go hunting
✨ Fucking you into submission (if you're too exhausted to cry, that means he won, right?)
Xyleth (0/10) either the best or the worst...
❤️ It depends on if you need a distraction or if you're the type to need a calm environment
✨ Because his species doesn't experience anxiety, they'll treat you how they treat one of their own when they are feeling blue
❤️ And they only feel blue after losing a fight
✨ Xyleth would parade you around the village (even while shaking, hyperventilating, crying, hitting him..) so that everyone can "cheer you up"
❤️ Everyone would be passing around their favorite little human, petting your head and trying to gift you with weapons and meat
✨ Children would be offering to find you animals to kill
❤️ It would be overwhelming
✨ An entire community of monsters trying to cheer up their leader's mate, genuinely out of love
❤️ If receiving words of encouragement, affirmations (about your strength), and food help your anxiety, then Xyleth is 10/10
✨ If you need a quiet room with someone helping you with deep breathing and grounding, he's a -100/10
Now, honestly, a good chunk of the guys would not be good at all for anxiety, they don't even rate out of ten haha
Some of them are sadistic enough to purposefully try and trigger panic attacks when they learn you have anxiety, like the Living Death. Now, he's a pervert, but I feel like he would enjoy your anxiety because he could feel more in control of you; it would help him isolate you further. If he could manipulate you into never leaving his cabin, he'd be the happiest man on the seven seas
But some guys like Dr. Campbell would enjoy seeing you crumple before him for more nefarious reasons. I can imagine him mocking his darling as he fucks them, telling them how much he loves it when they act hysterical because they clench him so good. He's a complete sadist who would get turned on the second he knew he was the one causing his love anxiety. There would never be even a second of comfort for you in his home, Ichabod would do everything in his power to keep you on edge all the time.
And finally, my lovely bedbug monster ❤️ he definitely cares about you, but only in a primal sense. You are his mate, you shall carry his spawn, and you shall stay at his side. He wouldn't understand what anxiety is, since he keeps you in a constant state of pain and fear. Yeah, he may be cuddling your side, but you're never not covered in blood; and not all of it is your own. If you're struggling, it's no different than when he's tearing into your abdomen to pump children direction into your body ❤️
I hope your day is going well, and if you suffer from anxiety, I hope that your days are stress free, and that you're able to have a good week without anything triggering you ❤️ Sometimes, I get a random shake, a random rush of anxiety even when absolutely nothing has happened, so I know you can't avoid triggers all the time, sometimes anxiety just happens, but regardless, I hope that you can enjoy today anxiety free ❤️
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underdark-dreams · 15 days
Text
Thank you everyone who has read this fic along its life! I finally got up the courage to tie it up with a bow. Here's the final chapter of my Rolan x Tav series Sage and Soldier, with links to the other pieces:
Blades and Spells [Fluff - First Meeting]
Good Night for Company - [Pining - Feelings Realization | NSFW] [ch1] [ch2]
[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3] - [ch4] - [ch5]
A Strand to Climb - Ch.6
After the end of the world, there's a wizard's tower in the Upper City.
Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, NSFW | Word Count: 4.8k [Read on AO3]
There was no time to celebrate the death of the Absolute—not when Tav and her companions stood trapped on its back like one of the doomed cities of Netheril. Not when her ears had already begun swimming and popping from the breakneck speed of their fall.
Tav yelled something back to the rest, some stupid bit of encouragement meant to keep them all on their feet. What else could they do but hold on, after all? They were all helpless, exhausted from battle, keeping their footing however they could as the brain’s pulsating flesh descended from the sky.
When they punched through the misty cloud layer below, Tav’s stomach leapt straight up into her throat. They were sailing across the Upper City, and the high spire of Ramazith’s Tower was rushing forward to meet them.
Too soon, her ears rang with the sickening, rib-shaking crash as the dying Netherbrain collided with the column of the Tower. Her shout of horror was lost to the explosive crumble of masonry and the whip of wind. She had only a second to fear the worst. 
The impact spun the creature on its descent; Tav was knocked hard to her side, forced to scrabble for purchase on the monster’s slimy flesh as it careened sideways. Her limbs skated ineffectually over the brain’s folds—she was sliding toward the edge—
Not like this, her mind screamed in protest.
Tav yanked the sheathed dagger at her thigh and plunged it into the dying Absolute. Two hands gripped the hilt with all her might, even as her legs swung over the side of the Netherbrain like those of a limp ragdoll.
“Hells, we’re headed for harbor—!”
Behind her, Wyll’s yell of warning cut through. Tav understood at once—if they hit the Chionthar still standing on the back of the Netherbrain, its mass would pull them deep underwater with the strength of a vortex. She craned her neck blindly.
“Gale!” Tav shrieked for him, mad with panic. What if he’d fallen in the Upper City? What if he was gone, and she was beseeching a void?
Then she heard Gale’s voice call out for the Weave, and his spell hit hard along her spine. Her boots lifted unnaturally, the feet within them tingling with the power of flight—
The Netherbrain banked hard over the central City Wall. They were low enough now that Tav could make out figures with upturned faces—people watching the monster’s fall from the sky and fleeing away on foot, as if all pushed back by the same bank of wind. With one more lilt, the fleshy ground under her veered straight for the ancient wooden river docks.
A sharp glint of hope. If they timed their jump just right—if Gale’s spell lasted—
“Fuck this—” Beside her, Karlach was of the same mind. She was crouched low for balance, inching forward to the edge of the Crown for a better position. 
Tav used her dagger for leverage to push herself crouched. “Aim for the roof of the Counting House!”
She heard the others fighting to their feet behind her. Gravity was accelerating their fall; sharp rain and river mist buffeted against her face as they swung rapidly for the water. But first, they passed beside a wide expanse of flat stone ramparts.
And then—they jumped.
Tav’s limbs cried out in exhaustion; her rain-soaked leg plates jangled heavily with each boot tread. She dragged herself through the streets of the Gate on adrenaline alone. 
Those streets were in chaos. Though the battle was newly won, each corner she rounded brought a fresh skirmish. 
Newborn mind flayers stumbled about in swarms, hungry and rudderless without direction from their Elder Brain. Many still dripped with blood from the death of their human forms. Those Baldurians who weren't running from them with crying children in their arms had snatched up tools and blades alike to run the creatures through with the ruthlessness of survival. 
The chaos helped. Grit and blood and thudding bodies distracted Tav from the one sight she wanted to turn her head to, yet couldn't bear to see. 
As her boots climbed the cobbles north toward the Upper City gate, Rolan’s tower crumbled over and over in her mind’s eye. She felt like retching. Her lungs were on fire.
Please let him be alive, please let him be alive, please let him be alive—she prayed to any god who might still be listening.
A child’s scream brought her up short on reflex.
Silfy—the timid one from the Grove, the little girl who cried when Tav caught her stealing a worthless trinket. A young mind flayer was reaching for her, one long-fingered hand directing its neural heat where she stood frozen in terror.
Tav’s teeth ground in her skull. She was so thoroughly fucking done—her longsword scraped out of its scabbard and arced straight toward the creature’s throat. 
Just as the blow connected, an arrow shaft pushed out between the mind flayer’s dark eyes. It crumpled lifeless to the pavement in a heavy heap. Silfy turned tail without a backward glance; Tav squinted through mist and smoke, trying to identify the Flaming Fist who still held her shortbow poised.
“Lia!” Tav could have sobbed in relief. “Thank gods—is Rolan—?”
“I don’t know—” Lia’s voice was desperate as she ran closer. “Cal and I took the Sundries portal to fight with Cerys. Last we heard, Rolan was up manning the turrets.”
Tav could have swayed and collapsed where she stood. Only adrenaline kept her upright.
“I’ll find him,” she shouted above the surrounding chaos, half to herself, half to wipe that terrible fear from Lia’s face. She pushed away into a sprint without another word to her. 
He’s not dead—he wouldn’t die like that—
Would she even be able to find Rolan’s body in the wreckage if he was? Tav’s knees wanted to give way at the thought. She gasped air into her lungs, wresting that image of him out of her mind with everything she had.
When she rounded the road from Flymm’s Cargo, a powerful wall of heat nearly knocked her back on her rump.
The ancient prow of the Blushing Mermaid was ablaze. Flames the height of ten men towered into the gray skies above, unaffected by the steady drizzle of rain. Her steel chestplate grew painfully hot as she forced herself up the crest of the hill.
Shouts and acrid air clouded her senses as she dashed beside the scene. Tav caught sight of Zorru and Danis, leading a bucket line all the way from Gray Harbor; their voices cracked from heat and smoke as they yelled directions.
All at once, like the emptying of a giant basin over their heads, a crash of water fell over the blaze and its surroundings. The cobbles under her feet were abruptly drenched; Tav slipped and careened forward, catching herself hard on both hands in a clang of plate armor.
There was a deep, ominous creak from somewhere above her. Knocked breathless, Tav nevertheless craned her head back. 
The heavy wooden spindle on the ship’s prow that jutted over the street was already weakened from fire; now it was soaked through from the magical downpour. As she watched dumbstruck, it splintered with a slow twang. Then the wood snapped clean down the middle, and the length of it swung downward, straight for her legs.
Tav scrambled forward on hands and knees. Her boots and gauntlets scraped over the wet stones toward safety—
Footsteps were sprinting closer. There was a shouted incantation and a flash; Tav smelled roses as the Weave enveloped her completely for the space of a blink. Then she landed flat on her stomach in the middle of the street.
Thoroughly winded now, she coughed and wheezed for breath. The blaze and heat of the fire was strangely distant from where she lay. 
As her lungs finally filled again, Tav realized she wasn’t just lying on pavement—something soft under her torso had cushioned the fall. She lifted up with a groan to look down at what she’d fallen on top of.
Rolan was entirely covered in soot and masonry dust from horn to foot. The effect was that he blended almost completely into the gray cobbles at first glance. Only when he opened his eyes did she recognize the two golden flames staring back at her.
“Tav!” 
Rolan sat up so suddenly his horns nearly collided with her forehead. His hands gripped around her forearms with bruising force. “The Brain—I thought you’d—”
Her body had begun to violently shake as she took him in, each inch of his face strained with anxiety and streaked with dust and thoroughly alive—
Unable to go another second without him, Tav threw both arms around his neck. Rolan gripped her ribcage in turn, so tight and so long that her vision went spotty from lack of air. She couldn’t care less; in this moment, she would have dissolved right into him if she could have.  
“I thought you were dead, Rolan,” she gasped into his shoulder. “Your Tower—the Netherbrain crashed right into it.”
“Only the observatory.” Rolan’s voice was muffled against her hair. “Never planned to use it anyway—not much of an astronomer—”
Tav could have laughed hysterically if she wasn’t so out of breath. Rolan continued against her neck. 
“I was following it to the harbor, Tav, I had no idea what became of you—but then the fire, there were people inside—”
“You had to help,” she finished. She felt tears streaming fast and hot down her cheeks. The strength of her relief could’ve bowled her right over again. “I know, I know, just—”
They released each other at the same time. The kiss was stained with sweat and grime, yet it was the most satisfying one Tav had ever felt. She gripped Rolan’s face between two gauntleted hands, crushing his mouth against her.
“Lia’s okay,” she gasped out when Rolan’s lips finally left hers. “I met her south of here. She and Cal went with Cerys. Cal must be fine too, she would’ve said,” Tav added in a rush.
Rolan jerked his head in acknowledgement, his expression punch-drunk as he took her in. He was smoothing her hair back with both hands as if the motion was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.
“Are you all right?” Her voice was very small.
Rolan nodded at her again. Clearly spell-spent and dusted in plaster, he looked like his own ghost. “Are you?” Despite all that, his baritone reverberated warm and familiar in her chest.
“It’s so quiet,” she whispered hoarsely. Her words fell in almost comical contrast to the distant sounds of shouting, fire, and steel meeting illithid flesh. 
But she could tell from the way Rolan’s eyes moved over her expression that he understood. The tadpole was finally gone—her mind was entirely her own again.
Rolan’s spark was beginning to return. “Can you stand?”
As he rose, Tav wobbled experimentally to her feet along with him. Her knees were bruised from the tumble, and her calves threatened to cramp from exertion—but she put on a brave face. 
Unconvinced, Rolan kept an arm looped behind her back just in case; one hand fastened along her waist. Walking with him close at her side, the adrenaline began to ebb in her veins. Bone-weariness was instead closing in like a shroud. 
“We should find Cal and Lia,” she said, trying to sound purposeful. Her boots dragged with each step.
“Yes,” Rolan agreed. He was holding her very firmly—practically supporting half her weight. “And we should be sure your friends made it safely from the docks.”
Tav gave a mumbled assent. It was difficult to care about any of that now, though she knew she should. She found herself staring up at his profile beside her. 
“Rolan?”
He looked down in concern. “What is it?”
“After that…will you take me home?”
“My darling—” His lips pressed firmly to her brow. “Yes.”
Tav shifted on top of him with a mumble.
Rolan froze with arms still looped around her; perhaps the crinkle of scroll parchment had awakened her. 
But then her face snuffled back into the bare crook of his shoulder. The dead weight of her across his chest assured Rolan that she was still fast asleep.
It was a lucky thing that he’d settled with reading material at arm’s length—the small pack of rare scrolls Tav herself had gifted him. She’d been out cold since dawn, when they all made it back to the Tower. It was nearly twilight now, and the sun’s last orange rays were fading fast through the high windows of Rolan’s bedroom. The distant streets had grown quiet as the city retired to nurse its wounds for the night.
Rolan hadn't seen much of her battle with the Netherbrain. Tav hadn't been in a state to tell many details once it was finally over, either. She could barely keep her eyelids open. The only thing clear was that she was completely exhausted from it.
Before anything else, Rolan coaxed several very potent healing elixirs down her throat. Then he drew them a bath and helped her out of her bloodied armor. She leaned heavily against him under the water. By the time he wrapped her in a towel to dry, he practically had to carry her back to his room.
The only hint of her fire came out when he’d tried to guide her toward the bed for sleep. Tav refused to go anywhere near the large four-poster frame that had belonged to the Tower’s previous archwizard. In fact, she declared that the whole thing was to be burned, mattress and all. 
Rolan couldn’t decide whether he was more amused or touched by her vehemence.
Instead, she’d grabbed a fistful of the blankets and dragged them away in order to fall against the massive direwolf pelt rug in front of the fireplace. It was no feather bed, but still leagues more comfortable than how either of them had slept on the road to Baldur’s Gate.
Especially so with Tav draped over him, Rolan had since decided. She’d promptly held him to her and drifted off. Her bare torso was a comforting weight on his chest. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she slept, little steady breaths tickling against his neck.
Home. That’s what Tav had called this, hadn’t she? Silently, Rolan leaned his cheek against her hair as he read.
Lia and Cal had moved all their things into the Tower the same day its ownership changed hands. The few of Rolan’s possessions remaining in their Heapside flat had been left in a little pile just inside his bedroom door. Among them was the small leather scroll pouch Tav had gifted him on her arrival to Baldur’s Gate. 
By this point, Rolan was certain he could find a much larger wealth of arcane knowledge in his new library. Still…it felt important to study from these first. 
For one, they were certainly beyond anything he’d managed to teach himself from hand-me-down textbooks back in Elturel. Whoever she’d stolen them from must have been an advanced practitioner of the Weave. Or perhaps just a man with the wealth and fancy to build a collection, much like Lorroakan had been.
They were also a gift from Tav. That simple fact made them more valuable to Rolan than most of the wealth he’d inherited along with Ramazith’s Tower. 
Had she collected them one by one in her travels here, thinking of him while she did? A warm affection bloomed in his chest at the thought. He’d have to ask her when she finally woke.
It was as if she sensed the thought. 
With a deep inhale, Tav arched and stretched full-body against the length of him under the covers. Her hands both landed to tangle in his hair against their makeshift fur bed.
“Morning,” she purred sleepily against his neck.
Rolan decided then and there—he could very much get used to waking up like this. However, it seemed the right thing to correct her. 
He kissed her brow. “Evening, actually.”
Tav raised her groggy face from his chest then, wiping one corner of her mouth. His eyes left the page to watch her blink around his bedroom in a daze. The blood-orange light of sunset was stretching long and dim across the floorboards now.
“Oh,” she said softly, a single word holding great recognition. Her wide eyes flicked to his face. 
“Have—have I been laid on top of you like a dead fish this whole time?”
“I’d never call you that,” Rolan assured her calmly. “But yes.”
Tav looked at him in appraisal for a long moment. 
“I think you like it,” she decided, and laid her head back down over his heart. He chuckled to himself and raised his free hand to smooth the hair back from her face.
Tav sighed happily at the gesture. “What are you reading, Rolan?”
“One of the scrolls you gave me.”
“Oh? Tell me about it, then. I’m curious.” One hand had gravitated suspiciously close to his ear. Sure enough, her thumb and forefinger began tracing along its edges to the pointed tip.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Rolan sighed. He’d always been unable to ignore the shivers that flowed down his spine when she touched him there. “I’d tell you regardless.”
“I'm sorry—” Her touch fell from him immediately. “I don’t do it on purpose, really. They’re just so pretty.”
Rolan cleared his throat. “It’s fine. You can—go on. If you like. Just know it’s a bit distracting.”
After a moment, her fingers cautiously returned. She was careful to keep the motion smooth and predictable this time. Rolan focused back on the page he’d pressed to fall flat before she woke.
“This one teaches a technique for arcane portal conjurement. The linking of two locations with a path carved through the Weave.”
Tav swiveled on her chin to look up at him. “Like the one from the Sundries to your library here?”
Rolan hummed in assent. “I've read about wizards who linked much more distant places together. The distance from here to Waterdeep, for instance. It requires a tremendous bit of spellwork.”
“How on earth?” She frowned at him in curiosity. “Where do you put a portal if you can't see where it's going?”
“Not sure yet,” Rolan mused, already being drawn back in by his reading despite her affectionate intrusions. “Most likely it requires two casters to sculpt the spell properly. I’ll need to understand the basic mechanics first.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Tav replied. She snuggled back into to the warmth at his neck.
“Of course I will.” Rolan shook the parchment out with his hand to punctuate the statement. 
Tav let out a quiet exhale of laughter—but she said nothing to question him. It made Rolan swell with pride a bit.
He held her for another quiet moment as the fire snapped and danced in the hearth beside them. Its light seemed to burn brighter and even warmer now, with the sun finally gone behind the horizon.  
When Tav shifted further over his lap, he didn’t think anything at first. Perhaps she was still trying to get comfortable on their makeshift sleeping arrangements.
Then she ground the heat between her legs over his half-hard cock, and a reflexive sound was pushed from Rolan’s throat.
“Tav,” he groaned.
“I’ve always loved that confidence of yours.” She had propped herself up with hands on his chest to gaze down at him. The covers fell back to bathe her lovely bare shoulders and breasts and stomach with firelight. “You don’t understand, it’s like catnip to me.”
“Where's this coming from?”
“What? Is it not enough that I just woke up naked with the most handsome, brilliant young archwizard on the whole Sword Coast—”
As she showered him with teasing flattery, Tav canted her hips harder against his own. Rolan leaned back against the tips of his horns with another involuntary groan; the scroll fell away dangerously close to the fire, forgotten.
“Tav,” he repeated more forcefully, pushing himself up on one elbow. Her face above him was full of mischief. “You’ve just been through hells—are you sure you’re well enough to—?”
“Yes.” She threw her head back in a moan with the word. Rolan’s hands flew instinctively to her hips. She was already rocking and grinding in rhythm against him, leaving a wet patch of heat where their hips slotted together.
“You’re unbelievable—” Rolan held her arms back insistently, forcing her to look at him. 
Tav panted and bit her lip as they watched each other. He was of half a mind to return the favor. Look at the pretty hero of Baldur’s Gate, fresh from battle and already writhing on my cock—but the clear desire between her legs had rather scrambled his own thoughts. 
Instead, Rolan did what he could manage to tease her. “Tell me how you feel right now.”
“Hot.” Her voice was low and tempting; her eyes were dark with desire. “Wanting you. Needing you inside me—”
Even without leverage from her palms, Tav managed to shift over his ridges in a way that made Rolan twitch and shudder under her.
“Good gods—I want you too,” he heard himself gasp out. 
It was all the encouragement she needed. His grip had gone slack in distraction; with one hand guiding him, Tav angled herself up and sank down over the hard ridges of his length.
Her tight, wet heat all around him nearly knocked him breathless. Rolan lay back and ran his hands up her thighs. The firm muscle there led him straight to the lovely swell of her hips, and he gripped each hand with nails dimpling into her flesh.
Strong and soft—Tav was somehow both of those things at once. As she sat adjusting to him, her eyes certainly had never been softer than they were now, moving over his face.
“I missed this,” she breathed. 
Rolan nodded in silent agreement. From tonight on, he swore to himself, neither of them would ever have a chance to miss this.
When she began moving, it was slow and deliberate. Her hips glided up and down to take him—so warm, so perfect. Rolan glanced where their bodies met, watching his length disappearing into her again and again. The sight was almost too much; he felt compelled to close his eyes.
Instead, Rolan pushed himself seated. He couldn't be close enough to her. 
Tav folded her arms around his shoulders at once, adjusting to the new angle without breaking rhythm. Her face was bathed in firelight.
As he took in every inch of her, Rolan caught sight of an old blade scar under her jaw. He’d never noticed it before now. He leaned to press his lips against it.
She tilted her head with a soft sound, opening up the rest of her throat to his mouth should he want it. And he did—Rolan kissed and nipped at the flesh there while Tav rode him, her voice softly gasping and whispering his name over and over like a prayer. 
The rhythm of their hips together increased to something desperate. Rolan felt heat licking under his skin, burning like flame everywhere their bodies touched. She clutched desperate fingers over the deep ridges along his shoulder blades.
“Come in me,” she gasped. “Please.”
That one little word was his undoing. Who was he to deny the woman who had just saved everything he loved in the whole Realms, herself included? 
Rolan forced his mouth away from Tav’s throat to watch her come apart. She was already close—he could tell from the way her mouth fell open, the way her walls twitched and gripped him tighter each time she bounced down onto his lap. 
“I love you—” 
He wasn’t sure she heard with the way she arched and tensed into him—but then she already knew, didn’t she? Tav’s arms were trembling around his shoulders when she came, as if he was the only thing keeping her anchored down to earth. 
When he felt the coil inside him unraveling, Rolan buried his face into her shoulder again. She was whispering praises against the tapered shell of his ear—things too sweet to even commit to his own memory. Rolan clutched at her back with both hands as he finally shuddered and spilled inside her.
He kept his arms locked tight around her middle as the twitching waves at his core echoed and subsided. Then they tipped backward together, their bodies still connected, to land in a soft pile of fur.
For a long moment, the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the way they both panted against each other. Lying on top of him again, Tav’s lips brushed against the trail of ridges below his collar bone.
Soon enough, one of his long fingers began tracing over her back. He practiced the shapes of his somatic spell components along the empty expanse of her skin. She was so soft and smooth there—so unlike the way Tieflings were formed.
He felt goosebumps raise where his fingers touched. Tav shivered against him. 
“That tickles,” she mumbled into his chest.
“Apologies, darling,” Rolan told her. Some other time it would be very interesting to investigate how ticklish she was. For now, he stilled to press his palm against her lower back instead.
Tav heaved a deep sigh against his chest. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Rolan crooked his head down at her. “What do you mean?”
“Now that it’s over.” Tav propped her chin on both hands to meet his eye. “I can barely remember what it feels like to just…live my own life. You know?” 
Rolan carded one hand back through her hair. He understood the feeling well. 
“There’s still plenty to occupy both of us,” he assured her. “I need to complete the Tower repairs before the next storm, which could be any day knowing Sword Coast weather. And the Lower City is in a state of absolute ruin. I’m sure you’ll have a hundred people knocking on my door come morning, asking for their hero’s help with a hundred different things—”
To his surprise, Tav sat up on his lap in a huff. The motion reminded him he was still softening inside of her. 
“There you go spoiling my fun,” she complained good-naturedly. “Here I expected you to be thrilled at the prospect of finally having me in your bed day and night, with no mortal peril hanging over either of our heads, no less. And you only want to discuss Baldurian civics—”
Rolan felt himself beginning to laugh at her, a relaxed and throaty sound. “Is that what’s troubling you? Tav, I thoroughly intend to fuck you often and well.”
“You’d better,” she warned, but the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch. He wanted to devour her.
“And since you’ve declared my own bed permanently off-limits—” 
In one motion he rolled their bodies to pin Tav under him. It earned him a little ‘oh’ of surprise; he was conveniently still buried between her legs. “You’ve put me in the position of having to be resourceful.”
“Big change for you, that?” Tav teased. But her legs crossed behind his flanks to keep him close. As they did, one of her heels inadvertently rubbed against the sensitive base of his tail. 
Rolan hissed in air between his teeth. He saw her eyes spark with recognition, and leaned down to kiss her senseless before she could do anything wicked with this new information.
By the time they surfaced from lips and tongues and teeth, he was already achingly stiff inside her again. Her hands ran down his front, flowing over each concentric pattern on his chest with open want. It sent a shiver all the way down his spine, from neck to tail.
The way Tav looked at him—the way she touched him as if he was perhaps the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. He decided it would take him years to get used to. Maybe he never would.
Rolan kept still regardless, waiting for her to finish her explorations. All traces of teasing were long gone from her now. 
Tav’s eyes reflected the warmth of the dying fire as reached up for him. She passed one more deliberate hand over the planes of his face, as if she’d like to memorize the feel of them. Her fingers landed to gently clutch around his jaw.
“My wizard,” she said softly. 
Rolan had never been one for pet names; even from the people he cared about most. Those words should have sounded diminutive and sentimental to him, even spoken by Tav. 
Instead…
They fell sweetly against his ear, flowed like honeyed wine down his throat, and nestled into a space that glowed with warmth somewhere behind his ribs.
And why shouldn’t they? He was her wizard, after all.
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killzenin · 1 year
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☆cw: nsfw drabble, 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜, afab!reader, smut, oral (f recieving) + fingering, shower sex, p w/o p, bareback, toji's a lil needy here 👀☆ 𝟴 𝟬 𝟬 word count
☆𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫☆
*english isn't my mother language, i apologize for any mistakes*
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toji remained planted on his knees below from where your back was pressed on the cold tiles, the constant falling of water from the showerhead fell on you both as his fluttering licks and kisses teased your clit. his fingers played with the slick that started to ooze from your entrance, making your stomach coil in anticipation.
you finally gave him what he’d— as well as you, been lacking for weeks, withholding the privilege to fuck until he won the season’s finals; and so he did ensuring his team’s win with a three pointer. blindsided by lust, he took you to the shower section of the soccer team’s locker room which was not in use at the moment near the fields once the buzzer went off. 
he then pushed both his fingers in, knuckle deep on your neglected pussy, a whistle-like moan escaped your lips as he started to pump them in and out with such appalling speed. you tightened around his fingers, feeling as if you’re on fire you clung onto that filling sensation that threw your head to mesh with the tiled wall and drove your eyes to roll as further back to your skull as possible.
low whimpers came out of toji after hearing you moan, he felt his cock twitch and throb through his thin, soaked shorts. the vibration of his whimpers made you grip onto his damp raven locks pushing him even further on your core, also for him to reach out from his shorts to set free and fist his leaking cock. 
you buckle your hips on his face and swing your leg onto his shoulder, closing in on your orgasm while whimpering a weak ‘faster’. doing as you commanded he pumped his fingers even faster than previously as well as inserting one more of his digits in, he reached that sweet spot several times and fondling onto your puffed bud harder. the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter until abrupt shots of translucent liquid rested on your boyfriend's lips and fingers. 
“please let me fuck you now, yeah princess?” he pants, looking up at you. his mouth glossy from your orgasm, still stroking along his hard shaft. “i’ve been waiting to stuff your pretty little cunt with my cock all day.”
“mhm, yess…f-fuck me now toji! god, i miss-missed you so much!”
toji’s pearly white teeth gleam through a grin, rising to settle his gaze to your line of sight. his rough hands caressed along your lower back until they rested on the back of your hips and placed a chast kiss. after that sweet moment, Toji's soft, green eyes hardened when he said, “jump.”
your legs wrapped around his slim waist as he kissed you once more, this time frantically. penetrating your mouth with his tongue with haste, sucking onto your tongue and biting on your lips. 
“are you gonna make me feel good baby?” his daunting words reached to nuzzle around your ear, sweet sobs of pleasure slipped out of your lips as toji’s tip rubbed and caressed over your dripping slit, “you know you always do.” a string of blabbering yes’s came out your drooling mouth, the weeks worth of lack of sex made it all too easy to get your brain mushed into nothing but your boyfriend. 
“so good to me huh? begging me to fuck you like a slut!” your laugh merged with a moan, thinking of how he was the one begging first. 
toji’s hands clasped onto the flesh of your ass, with a final stroke his cock melted in between your lips and began to thrust ruthlessly inside of you. you overwhelmed pussy clench around him once more, gasping and balling your fist onto the wet jersey that he still got on. your hips shudder at his erratic, animalistic movements. toji’s head flew back not caring for the deep moans that escaped his lips, holding himself from cumming right then and there as you milk around him to the fullest.
 “such a slutty cunt, taking my dick so well…let me cum inside you— f-fuck! please baby.” his devilish words made you carelessly nod once more, too elated from the veins on his dick felt as he pounded in and out of you while simultaneously kissing your cervix repeatedly. “fuck” you gasped, your stomach grew tighter once again. 
toji could feel all the turmoil brewing inside you. “look at me while you cum all over me, hmm?” he encouraged, puckering your cheeks and nudging to keep eye contact with one another. you were the first one to engulf into an ecstatic frenzy, screams echoed along the room riding with shaking legs your orgasm. toji came right after, shooting his cum inside you, grunting with a string of praise, filling you up to the brim. left with nothing but hot cum dripping along your thighs, your boyfriend kept you in his arms and carefully walked towards a bench.
“congrats on winning.” you muttered.
he laughed. “suck me off on the ride home.” he demanded while helping you get covered with a towel and hoodie he brought in his bag. you followed, just like you promised.
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                              ©killzenin
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gotstabbedbyapen · 7 days
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To compensate for my emotional damage from episode 3, BOZ gave me what I want (then ruin me again)
Spoiler Alert!!! (y'all should really stay away from my blog if you don't want spoilers)
First off, the show has finally given me what I want: Hyacinthus.
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My BabyTM.
My flower boi.
My menace prince.
I love you for trying to race against the god of speed himself. You lost the match obviously but you still won my heart in the few seconds you appeared 💜💜💜
You're spoiling me with your pecs and gritting teeth, BUT YOUR LITTLE EARRING TOO???
I'm not unwell. I'm dead.
I hope you stayed out of the arena during the discus game because we don't want your boyfriend to have a panic attack again (AND APOLLO'S SCENE WITH THE DISC TOO, SUNNY BOI GOT TRAUMA)
Speaking of sunny boi, it's nice that BOZ has a nod to Apollo being a champion in boxing.
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He beat Dionysus bloody. Look at him!
Then there's... Ares.
*sigh*
What happened to him?
The only time I like Ares is when he helps Aphrodite get off the chariot, but the moment he speaks I have to fight the urge to box him myself.
They said he's being a jerk to Heron because the lost of his parents affected him but I see NO SENSE OF MOURNING IN HIM. He's only being mean for the sake of being a mean bully.
Everyone who are mad at Ares in SS2 like me, you should read The Ungilded Version, it's a continuation fanfic of season 1 on AO3. Ares didn't get along with Heron in this fic, but how he shows his grudges is more reasonable and in-character. AND HE HAS HIS GOLDEN MOMENTS WITH HIS FAMILY AND FOLLOWERS TO BALANCE OUT HIS AGRESSIVE SIDE TOO!!!
The BOZ producer WISH they can write a complex Ares like that.
Also, don't think I forget Demeter. Her cameo may be brief but I'm still sour at what they made her into.
And Hera too, but I guess in a lesser extend because Zeus' death have really impacted her. Still miss her ruthless side tho.
Oh, and Heron is going on a suicide mission. He knows he's gonna die so he wants to die both like a dumbass and badass. But I do have critique with his fight with Ares. THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE CAN PUNCH ARES BLEEDING???
Diomedes managed to cut Ares and Aphrodite in the Iliad because he's a seasoned warrior with Athena on his side. Heron got powered up once and somehow he can box Ares??? A demigod against a god???
And when I thought the producer is finally realistic and didn't make him beat Ares, the Gary Stu nonsense came back with Zeus giving him the ring.
"But he saved the world he deserves the prize--" DID ZEUS' OTHER CHILDREN NOT AID THE DEFEAT OF THE GIANTS??? HERON JUMPED IN AND MAKE THE FINAL SHOW DOWN AND HE'S GOING TO DIE ANYWAYS!!!
Zeus' final speech. Finally he has some end-of-life remorse. I'll let someone else talk about it because my brain isn't programed to analyze something like that.
BUT WE WERE ROBBED OF A CHARIOT RACE!!! THERE'S A CUT DRAFT OF WHEN THE SIBLINGS WHERE RACING AGAINST EACH OTHER AND IT'S SOOO COOL??? WISH WE COULD HAVE SEEN IT BUT ALAS :((((
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tulypes · 6 months
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selfish
tags: unestablished relationship, black reader, mild angst, brief sexual touch, Jason a little paranoid and worried
Jason felt absorbed, his heart was beating at full speed inside his chest, causing his breathing to become irregular. A part of him hated what was happening. But the other part of Jason was selfish enough to be happy with the whole situation.
The scream was stuck in her throat, tearing through her violently, eager to echo throughout the room. But he didn't want to wake you up.
Insomnia had become Jason's close friend, accompanying him in his short moments of rest. Now he watched over the sleeping woman lying on the messy bed, the result of previous caresses.
The selfish part of him loved having you like this, naked and delicate, sleeping peacefully. His selfishness loved having the comfort and security of female arms, the adorable smile present on the full lips that he loved to kiss so much; He loved coming to your house and playing with the kitten, while listening to you tell him about your day.
The selfish part of him — his heart — loved you. He loved her so much that it made him feel truly alive.
Now the side that Jason believed to be rational filled him with fear, with insecurities about what could happen to you, thanks to everything he lives.
His chest hurt just imagining you dead or injured because of his actions, this woman who slept such an innocent sleep in front of him.
Poor Jason.
He hated that the selfish side won every time the phone rang.
Jason tried to disappear from her life, stopped responding to her messages and didn't even answer her calls. But when the violent raindrops covered Gotham City, he knocked on the door, soaking wet and sobbing about being gone. Crying for showing up too. Damn, he didn't know. I was so confused!
The boy's face cried out for forgiveness, affection and attention, but it also showed fear, anguish and restlessness. You hugged him as if both of your lives depended on that contact, so desperate, but at the same time so sweet.
Sitting in the armchair, next to the bedroom window, he watched the moonlight paint his black skin in such a beautiful way that classical painters would give anything to capture this image.
Jason prayed so hard to the heavens to allow him to stop loving you because he felt if that happened, you would be safe.
Frustrated, he throws his head back and takes his own hands to his hair, tugging at it nervously. Jason was so focused on his world of anguish and paranoia that he didn't notice you waking up in bed.
— Insomnia? — with a voice hoarse with sleep, you break the silence in the room, making green eyes turn to your figure.
— I was just thinking. — A big problem.
— You think too much, it will fry your brain, you know?
Jason didn't respond to what you said, he just laughed weakly. He knew you were right, because he felt like smoke could come out of his head at any moment.
His eyes never leave you for a moment.
Calmly, you get up from the bed and walk to the armchair where he was sitting. He analyzes every part of your body, every detail he had ever recorded in his mind; every curve he could spend a lifetime kissing, and still think it wouldn't be enough.
You stay between his legs, looking at him affectionately, knowing that the maps you completely with his greenish eyes.
— You're so beautiful… — Jason murmured, running his rough, but at the same time so delicate, hands over your belly, going up to your breasts, caressing them.
— I don't like seeing you so worried. — a sigh escapes your lips as you talk to him, feeling his fingertips press your sensitive nipple. — Nothing's going to happen, Jay.
He abruptly stops his caresses. His right leg starts to shake nervously. Jason was a mess inside.
— You have no way of knowing! — His voice comes out rougher than he imagined.
— Fuck, neither do you! It's not fair for fear to get in the way of what we're experiencing.
— I'm afraid of losing you, [Y/N]. I will never forgive myself if something happens to you.
— Nothing will happen while we are together.
He takes a deep breath.
The selfish part of him loved hearing you say that, that nothing could happen if you were together. His selfishness loved knowing that he would bring your body to sit on it, and make you a woman with the moon being a spectator. His selfishness loved knowing that he loved you to the point of being sick without you.
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 years
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— Rely on us, it’s all you need
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Pairing: Yandere Uzui Tengen x his wives x female-hashira! Reader
Summary: getting hurt on a mission, you get saved by a specific hashira who's a tad bit obsessed with you.
Warnings: yandere behavior, blood mention/description, demon mention/description(?), delusional states.
Author Note: There also may be some spelling mistakes, please excuse me.
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“Come on, darlin', I know you have it within you,” Twigs and fast wind-speed snapped around you.
“Don't you dare fucking die on me, please.”
As you opened and closed your eyes, retrying to refocus your vision and the now-throbbing sharp-pain on the side of your head; the familiar scent of copper and rain came to you, causing you to gag quietly.
“Please. Fuck – I should've came with you, damn'it.”
Blood was dripping down steadily from your forehead and ears, as you moved to wipe it away; you groaned in pain, a type of pain that had electricity racing all through you.
“Hun! Fuck. Okay, keep your eyes open for me sweetheart. Please — shit.”
You heard it; smelled it really, the powerful smell of incense and the eeriness in his voice. You immediately knew who it was.
“U–zui...? I–”
“Don't waste your voice, fuck — we're close to the Butterfly Mansion. Don't you dare fucking shut your eyes, okay?”
All the energy you had was forced into a weak-like nod.
You barely remember using your breathing style to defeat a demon, yet you recall the painful cuts and electricity going through you; using all your strength to defeat the demon, yet it wasn't enough.
You swong your katana, using the rest of your energy; seeing the demon's head cut off along with a smirk on their face.
You remember thinking you won, that you dropped your katana in exhaustion; yet, a single red string grabbed you and threw you straight... what? A few meters away? You didn't remember nor did you want to.
It was a hard throw, breaking the tree in half behind you as painful agony went through you; specifically your back and ribs, sending your head to the ground; making your vision blurry and head bleeding from the trauma.
It let you think you won, and for some strange reason, you believed you had won.
Then you recall hearing the demon scream, a herd of angry yelling towards your name, then... Everything went black.
As the sharp and heavy drumming brings you out of your thoughts; you tried to look around you, yet, everything was a blur, seeing that around you was going very quickly; like you’re running in a flower field with no fear whatsoever.
You inhale loudly, trying to catch oxygen but your lungs burn. You clench your teeth and sluggishly nudge your head further into Uzui's neck in pain. Slowly, you find Uzui's eyes darting towards you and in front of him— light worries in his eyes, a type of worry that he showed many times with you, sometimes the anger he showed whenever he saw a single cut on your delicate skin.
Your brain told you he was nice, someone you could trust when you first came to the top of being a Hashira; yet, everytime you were around him, you felt goosebumps on your skin, feeling the need to escape like a prey from his maroon eyes that always stared into the back of your skull.
He, however, was always sweet — in some way, he always offered help; walking towards you while putting his hands on your shoulder to let you know he’s there to help you and that, a pretty woman like you, deserves to be pampered.
His wives… were different; not that it was bad, but it was a weird difference. They were almost — obsessed with you; inviting you over for meals, pampering you in the most expensive clothing, and offering you to stay the night at their house if it was too late to walk home.
It made you embarrassed, not receiving much as a kid, and still not used to it — even as an adult.
You did your best to never get along with them — seeing a type of look in their eyes that scared you, intimidated you; yet, as a Hashira, you five (5) would meet quite often. Uzui, he would always try to go on missions with you, stating that ‘you need someone, as flamboyant and strong like him–to protect you’. Many would be grateful to have the fastest Hashira to tag along with you, but you didn’t; you were annoyed and angry, not wanting to tag along with anyone, especially with Tengen.
Though, the more he saw how he annoyed you, the more his wives and he wanted to hang out with you, dragging you by your wrist with an iron grip along the ‘fun’ festivals that were planned or going out to eat.
However, his flirty behavior got the best of you; slowly falling for him, even though you knew he wouldn't fall for someone like you.
Yet—here he was, carrying you to help, losing his mind, while you were on the verge of death.
“Shit, sugar — listen, don't you dare close your eyes. please, I can't lose you — none of us can lose you.”
All you remember was the voice of Uzui yelling your name, the calming smell of incense when everything went black again and the painful headache that didn’t go away.
You woke up to a hell of a headache, along with the smell of wood, cleaned sheets, and the noise of bird chirping, along with small snores — that were somewhat comforting.
You blinked a few times, eyes straining in pain by the brightness and soreness. As you stare at the ceiling, the familiar scent of incense and extreme perfume was all around you; lingering around you like a snake.
Realizing that you were in the Recovery Room and surrounded by them, you go to sit up, but as expected: your body retracts in pain; immediately causing you to groan out loudly by the immediate pounding in your ribs.
Surely, you had broken some, if not shattered them.
Quickly shuffling was heard beside you, as you looked; you connected eyes with dear violet ones who were quick to fill with tears.
“Oh! Baby!” Hinatsuru wrapped her arms around you as she nudged her head towards your neck, almost crushing you.
As you look behind her, you see Suma and Makio slowly rising in shock and tears falling down from their eyes as well. However, Tengen was nowhere to be seen, causing your anxiety to spike.
“Ah! Cookie!!, we all thought you’d never wake up again!!” Suma cried, launching herself towards you and causing you to fall back whilst pushing out a loud ‘ouch’.
Makio, of course, started yelling at Suma while Hinatsuru tried to calm them both down but to no avail: they all just started getting louder and louder, causing your ears to ring and make your headache worse; all you could was listen to their yelling.
“Stupid!! You don’t run around and hug people who are hurt!”
“I’m sorry!! I-I… was—”
“Guys! Please. Stop yelling, your stressing them out,”
“Oh, shut it!—”
All the sudden, the sound of doors sliding open loudly was heard behind them.
As you and the others looked; you realized it was the ‘God’ himself: Uzui Tengen.
“Tengen!!” Suma cried towards the tall man, running at him as a way to be protected by Makio.
As Suma and Tengen were hugging, he couldn’t stop looking at you; smiling proudly that his other wife is alive and awake.
Hina tried to hold your hand, which was quickly slapped away along with a scoff by you.
“H-how… long have I been out?” You asked bluntly, staring right at Tengen.
Hina looked at you with a puzzled look, before smiling softly, “You’ve been out for a week and a half, Tengen carried you here. Shinobu explained that you lost a pint of blood. You scared us… Pretty bad.” Hinatsuru explained.
Your eyes widened as you focused your gaze on Hina, trying to comprehend the loss of time.
Before you could speak, Tengen appears and gently pushes Hinatsuru out of the way; grasping both of your hands into his as his smile brightens more.
“Darling! I’m so glad you woke up dear,” He brightened, “Just like Hina said — you scared us pretty badly. Though, I have some very good news to tell you!” Tengen expressed into the air in a tone that would make anybody kneel before him.
You raised an eyebrow, “So what is it? And… Can you please let go of my hands?” You said as you felt your face grew uncomfortable.
Tengen’s face grew into a sly grin as his headpiece beads rested against his jawline; he dropped gently, letting go of your hands with a lingering iron grip.
“I spoke to the Head-Master, and explained what happened. He and I decided that it would be best for you to retire —” He expressed happily.
“What…?”
You looked at him stunned, everything stopped; static forming into your head as your ears grew louder than ever, focusing on your thoughts.
“Hey.”
All you could remember was how hard the training was, how weak you felt.
“Hon, look at me.”
Your instructor was a nice person, took you in when you were at your lowest and trained you to be as strong as a Hahsira; which you glady and happily obtained.
“Oi!”
Finally you shook out of it, staring right into his maroon’s eyes, with an unknown feeling. You started to tear up; feeling weak but angered. A type of anger you haven’t felt in a long time.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Hina asked stupidly, giving you a look of sympathy
“Why… why would you come up with that?” You demanded, voice growing louder. “Why did you think that was something I wanted?”
“Please don’t care hun, it’s for the best! Plus, you get to spend more time with us!” Tengen added, completely ignoring the fact that your fists were clenched tightly.
Tengen wipes your tears, gently caressing your cheeks “Don't worry — you’re gonna be safe with us, darling.”
All the girls nodded, Suma speaking up: “Don’t cry! We’re right here for you!”
Hinatsuru kneeled beside the bed, guiding her hand onto your chin as Tengen stood by, all of them really; observing you, like you were their prey.
You shook your head, feeling sick to your stomach. This was a sick joke, right? It had to be. You really wanted it to be.
“Aren’t you happy darl’? Come’on, we all know you love us,” Tengen looked at you, crouching down as he forced you to change your eyes towards him, “You’re not leaving us, or getting hurt again. You deserve to be pampered, we all love you.”
You widened at hearing his words, heartbeat quickly rising.
“A~nd, you won’t be needing this anymore,” He grabbed your katana, who was resting against the wall. All the girls smiled brightly as he nodded towards them.
He stood up, gently grabbing your forearm before you threw his hands off; you stood up and pointed your fingers towards his chest, like it was gonna change anything; maybe wishing this was a type of dream.
“This isn’t your choice! Please – Please tell me this is some type of joke—” You exclaimed; not wanting to feel weak again. He wasn’t listening to you, walking towards a cabinet, grabbing the medications he needed for whatever reason.
“You… can’t be ser–”
Makio grasped your shoulder, kissing your cheek while Hina and Suma all smiled gently, before nodding at Makio.
Tengen walked over, leaning over to tower you, intimating you. “I do this because I– we love you.”
Before you could argue back, you felt something nic in the back of your neck; causing you to pass out.
It didn’t matter anymore, Uzui made a promise to protect you and he was gonna keep that; whether he would have to use force.
Masterlist | Requests closed! (7/16/2022)
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©yandere-kokeshi
Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.
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astroyongie · 1 month
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Paranoid
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Note: Sorry for taking so long to update this one. The angsty series continues with this one
Pairings: Mark x Reader
Warnings: HEAVY ANGST!!! mentions of suicide, mentions of depression and anxiety, drugs and medications, mentions of death.
Music: https://open.spotify.com/intl-pt/track/5hhxHo29bE78Y18gbhamlF?si=af661e1c52ca494e
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You entered inside your Massarati, locking the doors as you allowed your body to hit the comfort of the red leather. Your brain hammered inside your skull, the instant pulse making you regret every decision you had taken earlier that night. Pushing your thoughts aside, you sniffed your feelings away, starting the car.
The roaring purr came to life, as you drove the vehicle back into the street, leaving behind you the luxury hotel where the MAMA awards after party is being held. You just couldn’t spare another moment in their company, not when everyone was happy and laughing and you just wanted to scream on the top of your lungs. Entrainment industry was a pit of snakes, you name it, idols, actors, sponsors, managers all seeking for money and fame to the expenses of people's pain and blood.
As you sat behind the wheel, your grip on reality seemed to wane with every passing mile. The rhythmic hum of the engine blended with the erratic beats of your heart, echoing the chaotic dance of thoughts you fought to forget. You prayed that no police stopped you as your dilated pupils betrayed your altered state. 
The world outside blurred, while your mind teetered on the edge of euphoria and unease. You felt your body shiver, the aftermath of your reckless behaviors coming for you. Without thinking twice, you stopped on the side of the road. If you kept speeding in such a state you would end up hurting someone. Taking a deep breath as you tried to collect yourself, you hissed from muscular spasm.
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, hands gripping the wheel tighter. 
You looked at yourself through the rearview mirror. Your make-up was smuggled across your face, your eye shadow fading as your mascara tainted beneath your eyes. Seeing your reflection, made your stomach twist in disgust. You were Y/n, an idol of one of the most successful girl groups of your generation. You were loved and talented, earning jealousy from others. Yet you couldn't bear the sight of yourself. Despite all compliments you often received from others, you found it hard to believe them.
Little did they know that you were fighting for your life, each passing second. 
MAMA had been held tonight and without surprise, your group won best feminine group of the year. People expected you to be happy and screaming in joy, but you sucked at pretending. How would you exaggerate such an emotion when it was something that you were already aware of, as these shows were all planned out and rigged. What wasn’t planned out however, was the speech made by NCT 127 in honor of Mark Lee. 
To you, it had felt like millions of needles piercing your heart, as you had to stand there and hear about it without being able to show any hint of emotion. Betraying sadness would have made you look like a hypocrite in the eyes of the public. To them, you had no connection to Mark, mourning in public would be giving people reasons to gossip.
At the after party, you were hit with a wave of questions related to your relationship with Mark, having to hear the most pathetic excuses from rich sponsors. It had ripped your heart, and again due to your idol image, you had to pretend that you weren't hurt. You had ended up sniffing a whole line, in hope it would quiet your thoughts, numb the unstoppable pain and growing anxiety at the pit of your stomach.
If Mark saw you today, he would have been disappointed and the thought of it, made you want to sink deeper in anything that would stop such guilty thoughts.
“Fucking pricks” you cursed out again, your hands hitting without much strength, the wheel of your car.
You reached for your purse, grabbing your pills prescribed for your generalized anxiety. Without counting, you pour some into your hand, proceeding in swallowing the drug, hands shaking. You groaned at the feeling, praying to all entities that no sasaeng or paparazzi was around. A scandal was the last thing you needed at the moment. 
Being an idol has been the worst mistake of your life.
No. Not answering that phone call had been the worst fucking decision of your life. 
You still remembered it clear as water. It was a friday night, the rain poured outside. You and Mark had just got into a stupid argument because of another girl idol that was hitting on him. That night you had lost control of your anger, violently pushing Mark away and cursing him out with the worst insults without hearing his version. Slamming the door of his apartment, you had left back to your own place. You knew Mark had been having some rough weeks with promotions. He had barely slept in days, had not eaten much and you had thought of preparing him a date night would help with his own anxiety and inner turmoils. 
Instead, you had left him there after something egoistic that communication would have solved. You remember driving down to your place. Your phone had rang. His name appeared on the screen as you had ignored it. Mark had proceeded to call you two more times that you equally ignored, unable to digest your anger at that moment.
The memory made the air in your lungs knock you out. You felt your airways getting restrained as if something was blocking it. Seeking for air, you started hyperventilating, sobs coming out of your mouth. Hot, big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried. It was always the same goddamn thing. 
Mark had died tragically that same night, 3 months ago. The next thing you learnt was that your boyfriend had been taken to the emergency room but didn't make it out alive. His lungs filled in dioxyde carbone smoke from what his parents had explained to you. An accident, the doctors said, gas that had leaked. How, didn't matter to you. All you could think about was how he had called you that night, for help. But your own anger and frustration blinding your reason, declining his call–
You had killed him, you were convinced. If only you hadn’t been so caught up in childish feelings, Mark would have been by your side.
“Do it” 
The voice on your head echoed like a prayer, which made you stop breathing for a short seconds out of surprise. You looked at the bottle of your pills still there in your hands. Perhaps you had to pay for what you had done. Your hand tightened around the plastic bottle, tears streaming down your face.
You missed him so much.
You were tired of life. Nothing made sense to you. Perhaps, this was the best solution.
You took a few more pills, swallowing the lorazepam dry. You groaned at the feeling on your throat, coughing before the bottle fell from your hands, spilling the content next to your feet and pedals. You cried heavily. You didn't remember crying like this at his funeral, the emotions numbed by the denial of the situation. Your hand went to your chest, gripping at the fabric of your dress as you tried to rip away this feeling consuming you.
It took a few minutes. Between the alcohol consumed tonight, the cocaine and the unknown number of lorazepam, you started to feel your body getting heavy. Your crying eventually ceased and your breathing became constant. You close your eyes, dreaming of his touch, of his presence. You didn't know if you deserved such confort, but your mind was too messed up, too high to rationalize.
“Y/n”
The rough voice jolted you awake, its resonance seeming to penetrate your very consciousness. With effort, you willed your eyes to open, greeted by the sight of Mark seated beside you. Despite the haze of grogginess, a smile tugged at your lips as you acknowledged him.
“Mark” you murmured, unable to tell if the whole scenario was an illusion your brain had mastered “Am I dead yet?”
“No” Mark said. He was worried, the timber of his voice reminding you, you were amidst danger. Although you couldn't clearly see his face, you swore to yourself he was real. Sitting next to you on the passenger seat, he wore the same clothing from the day of his death. His face was a strange gray color but his eyes still held the warmness of his bubbly personality.
“My head” you whined to yourself, unable to move your body, lethargy taking over you. He wasn’t real, you knew it deep down. This was the drug's side effects, there was no other explanation for this. Your head felt light, yet, the need for sleep was taking over your body as you felt your eyes closing.
“Stay awake Y/n” Mark said in a hurried voice, stopping you from fluttering your lids close. You groaned, trying to rub your eyes but your hand was too heavy to move. Everything seems to be going slower than normal, as if the world was holding its breath.
“I am sleepy” you said but tried to move nonetheless, trying to reach for Mark’s touch. It was stupid really, you thought. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many words but your lips were not in sync with your mind. You needed to apologize, ask for his forgiveness. You moaned in pain, the dizziness making you nauseous.
“Y/n” he called again and you forced yourself to look at him. Your mouth was like papersand, you were thirsty. “breathe deeply, through your nose” he indicated and you tried to follow his indications. Your body felt on fire, as the effects of the dangerous cocktail coursed through your veins.
“It hurts”
“I know”
Waves of dizziness and disorientation crashed over you, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. Nausea clawed at your stomach, threatening to erupt with each passing moment. Your heart raced erratically, its frenetic beats echoing the chaos within. Every breath felt labored, as if the air around you had turned thick and suffocating. 
“Why did you leave me?” you asked and the pain in your chest became more prominent. You were torn between throwing up and punching a hole in your chest to breathe properly. “Why did you left me”
You must have lost your mind. Deep down you knew this wasn't Mark, this was just a fruit of your imagination, one that your guilty paranoid self needed to see. So many nights asking for a chance of asking forgiveness and yet amidst your crisis all you could master was blaming him for these feelings.
“I am sorry,” Mark murmured, the words echoing against your eardrums. It hurted you, it felt like you were bleeding from the inside out. “Y/n, you need to wake up. You need to call someone”
No, you thought. by doing that you would have to go back to the reality which meant leaving Mark behind. Even if this wasn't real, it was the closest thing you had to seeing him.
“But I miss you” you said, the tears clouding your eyes. His bloodied face smiled down at you. 
“I know. But you can't be with me for now”
“Why?” The words left your mouth with a desperate sob. In the midst of this torment, a profound sense of dread settled over you, a haunting reminder that you would never be able to feel his touch, his laugh ever again.
“There's too much you need to do for me, Y/n.” In your mind it made sense. you and mark had made so many plans together, from trips to getting a dog, from getting an apartment together to going to that stupid Beyonce show. “Can you do that? Can you live for me?” The urgency in his voice couldn't be ignored even when you moved your head from side to side, crying.
You were getting paranoid there was no explanation. How could he expect you to live, to experience everything you had promised to do by his side, by yourself? you understood, to honor his memory it was important, to honor his love for you, you couldn't allow yourself to go through such a dark path. Your heart ached so much. Was love worth all this pain?
“Live for me”
You wanted to open your mouth but you couldn't. You had yet to apologize, but your anxiety was ruling over every parcel of your cells. Closing your eyes for a second, to recollect yourself you breathed. It felt like you were inhaling sharp needles, your lungs writhing in devious pain. Mark’s words repeated itself in your brain. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, before looking at the passenger seat. Mark wasn't there anymore. 
Instead, your phone layed there, abandoned next to your purse. You screamed in pain, forcing yourself to move your body, your muscles feeling like they were ripping  inside of you. As you reached for it, with trembling hands, you pushed yourself back to your initial position, swallowing the bile that had recoiled around your mouth. Then you pressed the emergency room, putting the phone on speaker.
“911, what’s your emergency” the masculine voice behind the phone asked and you sighed through your sobs.
“Please help me. I can’t die. I have to live. Please”
You didn't want to live. But you had agreed to one thing. The only way to be forgiven for your sin, was to live for Mark. To that, you would willingly give your life for. 
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simsjayla · 9 months
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jungwon - first time
jungwon x virgin! fem reader
genre: soft/fluffy smut
warnings: oral (fem receiving) ,fingering (fem receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex
you and jungwon were in the middle of a heated makeout before you pulled away. “won, i’m ready,” “angel, are you sure?” jungwon asked you as confirmation, worry filling his face. “please, i want it so bad,”.
jungwon felt your words getting to him as his pants slowly got tighter and a bulge appeared. “let’s take it slow first, yeah? we’ll ease into into it,” was all jungwon said before pulling your pyjama shorts and panties down at the same time.
“i’m gonna eat you out, ‘k?” jungwon took a deep breath before kissing the inside of your thighs gently, jakes advice on how to eat pussy filling his brain.
as jungwon’s kisses got closer and closer too your heat you find yourself letting out a small whine and tugging at jungwon’s hair to get him positioned at where you need him the most. “you’re so wet, angel, all ready for me,” he slowly licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. “please, won, need it so bad,”
“my good girl expressing what she wants from me,” jungwon said with a smile. he slowly started sucking your bud before speeding his pace up. “jungwon, ahh - shit,” you say as your hands grasp the bed sheets.
jungwon becomes more experimental as he quickly slips one of his fingers into your entrance, “i think i’m close, won,” he slips another one of his fingers into you and you could scream from all the pleasure cursing through your body.
“won, i’m cumming,” was all you said before you let out a line of curses alongside his name. jungwon fingered you through your hair before pulling his fingers away and sucking your arousal from his fingers. “so sweet, my angel girl,”
“are you sure you’re ready for us to, you know” you cut him off by grabbing his hard-on. “i’m so ready, baby” you take your shirt off, leaving you in nothing but your bra. “you’re so beautiful, darling,” jungwon said as he unclasped your bra, before quickly taking his clothes off aswell.
“are you sure, baby?” jungwon asks once again just to make sure. “i’m sure, baby, don’t worry,” jungwon connects your lips together in another makeout as he lines his cock up to your entrance.
“this might hurt a little baby, so just make sure to breathe through it,” he slowly pushes his tip in and stops. “keep going,” he got around half of his length inside before your eyes pricked with tears. “i’m sorry baby, i know it hurts, it’ll go away soon though my love,” he stroked one of your cheeks lovingly as he pushed a little more in.
he held your hand through the pain before he finally bottomed out inside you. “tell me when to move, okay?” you nod and after a minute or so you tell him he can move. he slowly starts to fuck you. “oh, jungwon - ahh - feels nice”
he picked up his pace a little until he found a pace which suited you both. “you’re wrapping around me so well angel,” jungwon let out a few curses as the knot in his lower abdomen was tightening.
“gonna cum, won,” “me too baby, me to, wait for me?” and all you can do is nod. jungwon thrusts his hips a few more times before the knots in both of your stomachs came undone, his cum painting your gummy walls a perfect shade of white.
jungwon slowly pulls out of you and collapses besides on the bed. he grabbed your hand and turned to face you. “you did so well for me angel,” his arms wrapped around your waist. “i love you so much,” was all he said as he closed his pretty eyes.
you and jungwon had just moved into a new stage of your loving relationship and you couldn’t feel happier.
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kingprinceleo · 1 year
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gonna drop a silly little happy auau idea i had since its prob gonna be a while until i feel pog enough to actually draw it- ujhhhhh ok so like, metal is an active threat in Happy Auau, swearing vengeance on Sonic and Co (Shadow, Silver, Tails, and ghost Knuckles) after they whooped his ass back to mobius (he has completely dominated the Sol until they arrived, also omg hi blaze!!) So obv Metal is a lil pissy about having all his work ripped out from under him by his horrible flesh counterpart, after he HAD ALREADY WON. So hes trying to fucking kill the shit out of them, for real this time. Hes causing so much terror that sonics the one to put forward the notion that they need to shut him down for good, which is how u know its serious sdbhfhjds. its been a long time since sonics had a real rival challenge him like metal, and part of him wants to keep the adrenaline and fight- but as a wise(r) old man he knows that metal is too much of a greater danger to a kingdom hes trying to protect. Metals also REALLY been getting on his fucking nerves. lmao the gang are collectively trying to come up with a way to shut him down for good, a way theyre positive they cant come back from, but mfer keeps escaping containment, so thats a whole other problem anyway, shadow has (in his opinion) a brilliant idea and he doesnt tell anyone BSHFHBD. so he takes the 7 chaos emeralds and inbeds them into sonics crown, and puts it on him in the middle of the night hes trying to mind control sonic BHJSABHJDSBHJDHBJ and it works!!! next morning sonics head is fucking EMPTY
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so shadow, in typical fashion decides to see how far he can take this! bc he is a strange strange man. i think it turns into real comedic shit like shadow has him put on like. the MOST emo thing hes got in his closet. makes him say no to being offered a chili dog, makes him tell tails hes Cringe!!!! the funniest one to me is shadow using this to make sonic fawn over him bc shadow can never get enough ego boosting!! i wanna have sonic break the mind control over the actual DUMBEST reason, smth rlly goofy like shadow tells him to call him "the coolest" either way after it breaks uhhh shadow gets fucking werehog punched thru a wall!!!! sonics fucking SEETHING. like steam is coming outta the mans ears. shadow is COMPLETELY unfazed and ive been rotating dialogue in my brain along the lines of 'took you long enough' or 'its about time' they start an actual fight (its mostly just shadow gracefully and nonchalantly dodging whatever attacks sonic sends his way) and sonic is chewing him out for Whatever The Fuck that was. Shadow casually explains that sonic is the only person he knows with as strong a passion for freedom as him, making him the most resistant to any kind of control, he would put up the strongest fight against it like no other, and if it works on sonic, then its likely to forcefully work on Metal if the need arises. sonic begrudgingly accepts the reasoning but keeps fighting with shadow anyway to work the anger off sdbfhsbhdfhs bc hes still pretty livid about the whole thing anyway heehoo silly stuff spinning in my brain in mach 10 speed
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