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#this angle should be illegal

silversimp · 1 year

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I've been working on this for over a week and I hate it, not sure I'll finish it tbh...

#wip #aot fanart #eren jeager #trying to draw semi realism #faces from certain angles should be illegal because i cant draw them #unfinished art

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mexashepot · 4 months

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When I said "that ass should be illegal," I did not mean for that hip/thigh/ass dance sequence to be cut out of all official recordings of the concert 😭😭😭

It was the best part of the whole concert why was it cut😭😭😭

#i know it's because of the sound issues but STILL #thank goodness the Internet remembers everything and we have at least 3 different angles of that but STILL they're all low phone quality #it's my fault. i should have not said it should be illegal because they indeed de facto illegalised it.😭

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honeyhotteoks · 3 months

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lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page.

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content.

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath.

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it.

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face.

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you.

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today.

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more.

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page.

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess.

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative.

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry.

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through.

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt.

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs.

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already.

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson.

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement.

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’.

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him.

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,”

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat.

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,”

Your breath comes a little more quickly.

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,”

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him.

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?”

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand.

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,”

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already.

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling.

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?”

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait.

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?”

You smile again.

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?”

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot.

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.”

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open.

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,”

Your chest thumps hard.

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.”

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention.

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?”

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady.

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen.

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.”

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions.

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?”

Fuck.

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,”

“Fuck,” You whisper.

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,”

You’re nodding again.

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.”

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs.

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due.

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,”

Your legs spread a little wider.

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants.

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing.

You love him like this.

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,”

You pull it back reluctantly.

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,”

You comply immediately.

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,”

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone.

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,”

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear.

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,”

Your breath catches.

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,”

A moan bubbles up out of you.

“Hands off.”

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind.

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,”

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next.

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,”

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause.

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,”

You follow his instructions.

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,”

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot.

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?”

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting.

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest.

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,”

You don’t have to be told twice.

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,”

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to.

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,”

Pleasure rocks in your gut.

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,”

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it.

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,”

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling.

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?”

Pressure drops in your belly.

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,”

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back.

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.”

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful.

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you.

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,”

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can.

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,”

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,”

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel.

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,”

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere.

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,”

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot.

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,”

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over.

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,”

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you.

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes.

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,”

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you.

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.”

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you.

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,”

You blush again.

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,”

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling.

You are so, so fucked.

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat.

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post.

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company.

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit.

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day.

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five?

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall.

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries.

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention.

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now.

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone.

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here.

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning.

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering.

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby?

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found.

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?”

You’re frozen.

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows.

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,”

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,”

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks.

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?”

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,”

“Iced or hot?” He asks.

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me?

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,”

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,”

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest.

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line.

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,”

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?”

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,”

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head, “No, first time,”

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head.

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,”

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,”

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?”

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,”

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer.

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,”

Blush creeps up your neck.

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head.

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.”

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?”

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up.

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,”

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,”

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,”

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age.

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella.

“Seven,”

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,” You nod.

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,”

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,”

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.”

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,”

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,”

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!”

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,”

“See you again,”

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer.

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account.

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual.

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home.

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening.

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos.

He’s lovely.

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something.

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table.

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?”

“The train,” You glance outside.

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,”

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,”

“Oh,”

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?”

Flirting, then.

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?”

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,”

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block.

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits.

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles.

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns.

Do you tell him? Do you lie?

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t.

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking.

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts.

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.”

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?”

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes.

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,”

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?”

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,”

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,”

“Recognized me?”

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,”

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,”

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down.

It was so, so nice while it lasted.

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,”

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,”

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,”

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,”

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire.

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch.

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,”

“Undrinkable?” You blink.

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,”

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?”

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,”

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait.

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you.

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,”

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly.

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?”

“No,” You tell him firmly.

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you.

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,”

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,”

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,”

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.”

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you.

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,”

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,”

“Oh,” You soften.

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious.

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,”

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,”

“Right,” You murmur.

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,”

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting.

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.”

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking.

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,”

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,”

You wait, your stomach in knots.

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks.

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,”

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm.

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,”

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues.

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,”

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.”

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes.

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,”

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening.

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,”

A small smile appears on his lips.

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,”

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,”

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?”

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,”

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,”

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?”

You nod again.

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?”

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much.

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.”

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,”

You nod.

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him.

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,”

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words.

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.”

He nods once, his shoulders tense again.

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,”

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks.

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,”

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.”

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.”

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks.

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,”

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?”

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,”

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe.

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday.

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air.

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?”

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,”

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.”

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again.

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?”

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too.

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,”

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,”

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him.

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,”

“Right,” You blush darker.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?”

You nod quickly.

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.”

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time.

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.”

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs.

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,”

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,”

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?”

You nod.

“And the roleplay?” He asks.

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,”

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips.

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,”

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?”

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,”

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater.

“Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,”

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan.

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,”

The button opens.

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,”

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?”

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons.

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead.

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,”

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,”

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly.

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,”

You nod, “So good,”

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,”

You’re close.

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,”

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right.

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,”

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,”

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,”

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,”

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips.

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,”

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,”

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming.

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,”

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple.

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,”

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge.

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,”

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move.

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,”

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise.

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,”

You shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,”

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile.

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,”

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes.

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,”

“So come inside me,” You smile.

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,”

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,”

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,”

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,”

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,”

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions.

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,”

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh.

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,”

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?”

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit.

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands.

“Yes,” You answer quickly.

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,”

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,”

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real.

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real.

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?”

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers.

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,”

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble.

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body.

“Soon,” He promises.

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit.

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,”

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,”

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,”

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,”

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something.

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor.

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,”

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,”

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,”

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,”

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight.

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks.

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath.

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,”

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,”

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,”

“It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,”

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,”

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,”

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,”

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,”

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up.

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,”

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes.

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss.

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,”

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,”

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss.

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,”

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs.

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you.

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,”

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?”

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,”

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs.

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you.

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants.

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?”

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet.

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly.

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he.

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,”

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed.

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,”

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him.

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,”

You nod.

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,”

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire.

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs.

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you.

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,”

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,”

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open.

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust.

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress.

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low.

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you.

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,”

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins.

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?”

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,”

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him.

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?”

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,”

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,”

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll.

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,”

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer.

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?”

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together.

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,”

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan.

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,”

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself.

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,”

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,”

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively.

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you.

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side.

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?”

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion.

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you.

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,”

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,”

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly.

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little.

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock.

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,”

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,”

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,”

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,”

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,”

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now.

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,”

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,”

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,”

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises.

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,”

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips.

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,”

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet.

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed.

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble.

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,”

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good.

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours.

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,”

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,”

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly.

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,”

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling.

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,”

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge.

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock.

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?”

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,”

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest.

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,”

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together.

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees.

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment.

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open.

“Hey,” He murmurs.

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,”

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you.

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?”

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,”

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise.

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,”

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,”

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?”

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones.

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water.

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam.

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you.

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all.

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip.

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap.

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,”

You look up from the rippling water.

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks.

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,”

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.”

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand.

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.”

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together.

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?”

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little.

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,”

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,”

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back.

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,”

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly.

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,”

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,”

“You like me,” You peck his lips.

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,”

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez #yeosang ff #yeosang fic #yeosang smut

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darknight3904 · 5 months

Text

Better Than Revenge

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ, ᴏʟᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ ᴅɪᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀꜱʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀᴛᴇᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱ��ɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ʙᴏꜱꜱ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ! ʙʏ ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʀᴏᴅʀɪɢᴏ

Coriolanus was sure he was dreaming. There was no way you had actually shown up to this. But sure enough, there you were shaking hands and accepting hugs from stuffy old Capitol residents like you were their long-lost daughter. He had been trying to get in contact with you for so long now and it had been nothing but silence and being turned away from your family home. The only current information he had on you was that you were skipping university entirely and taking over your mother's position as head of technical operations for the games. Initially, he had thought that meant he might see you during his work with Gaul but you never showed, clearly, you had been stationed elsewhere.

His time in District 12 and whatever had happened between him and Lucy had cleared his head. He had come back with his goals set in his mind and was determined not to fall victim to another girl's spell just because she had a pretty voice. And yet, as he stood across the room from you, he knew that you were going to be trouble for him. What was it you had broken up with him about? He could scarcely remember, that dress you donned tonight was so distracting with its plunging neckline and shimmering fabric, it should be illegal to look that good.

He felt his throat dry up when you began walking towards him. Why were you coming to greet him? Oh right, this was a party about him and his success with his new ideas that would be used in the games in just a matter of weeks.

"Coryo! It's been a while." You beam reaching out to shake his hand

"Yes, it has. I didn't know you would be attending tonight." He said stiffly, feeling your eyes roam across his chosen suit for the evening. Suddenly, he found himself hoping you liked what you saw.

"Well, I'm sure you know I've taken over my mother's company so of course someone would have to come to represent it." You smile

Oh right. That. The soft clicks of cameras went off from somewhere, these photos between Gaul's prodigy and the girl, no woman, who was working to make sure the games would be seen from every angle would surely be published by a news outlet before the evening was over

"Your dress is exquisite." He compliments, trying to ignore the way your chest was taunting him.

"Thank you. I see you're still wearing roses on your lapel, some things don't change do they?" You say, following his stare to your chest.

Busted. You knew he was ogling you.

Coriolanus wanted to move this conversation and brush past the fact that he wanted to tear that damn dress off but he wasn't entirely sure how to reply to a statement like that. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to figure it out since an unwanted interruption cut in.

"I got you that drink you wanted, hon." A man cut in wrapping a meaty arm around your waist

Okay, who the hell was this?

"Oh thank you, I'm so thirsty." You smile and accept the dainty glass.

"Oh Coryo, this is Aesop." You introduce them, "Aesop, this is Cor-"

"Wow, Mr. Snow, I never thought I'd get to meet you! Your work with Dr. Gaul is rumored to be historic." Aesop gushes, cutting you off like he's some desperate fanboy.

Coriolanus finds himself nodding and pretending like Aesop's words mean a lot to him. Instead, Coriolanus lets him vomit his praises while he takes in the newest man who you deem worthy of your affections. He wasn't necessarily bad-looking, with a strong-looking build accompanied by sharp features and dark curly hair, Coriolanus wouldn't dare call him unattractive, in the face at least. Aesop's choice of outfit for tonight though told a different story. It was rather plain, just a simple black suit and a dark blue pocket square to try to add some color while attempting to match your dress which was simply hypnotic compared to that monstrosity of a suit.

"So what's next?"

Aesop was still talking to him? Someone needs to tell him when to stop talking.

"I'm sorry could you repeat your question I wasn't listening." He says honestly

"I was just asking what you had planned for your future. Surely the great Mr. Snow I hear about from my mother isn't just going to stop at being a game maker." Aesop says, clearly curious about those rumors about his possible presidential campaign.

Coriolanus doesn't miss the way his arm, which was once wrapped around your waist, drop so it rested on your hips and his hand was dangerously close to your ass. What a pig. He wishes he could be the one doing that, not the Capitol's worst-dressed man who didn't seem to even be worthy of being here let alone have you on his arm.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see. After all, Snow lands on top." He smirks and Aesop nods.

Aesop doesn't have much to say after that and Coriolanus makes no move to continue the conversation so an awkward silence falls over the conversation. The soft notes of the piano interrupt Coriolanus' judging of Aesop's outfit and he finds himself asking before he can discern whether or not this is a good idea.

"Would you like to dance? For old time's sake."

He doesn't expect you to say yes but you surprise him by placing your drink in Aesop's hands and pressing a kiss to the poorly dressed man's cheek. He doesn't miss the way you whisper something in Aesop's ear before taking his hand so he can lead you to the dance floor.

"I like your new hair. The curls were very nice but this new style makes you look very sophisticated." You say as he leads the dance

"What the hell are you doing?" He asks, genuinely curious as to what game you're playing

"Um, what are you talking about?" You ask a genuine look of surprise on your pretty face.

"You come in here dressed like this, with that....thing hanging off your arm, and you act like nothing is wrong between us and compliment me." He spits, upset that he seems to have been replaced so easily.

"What are you going on about now? You can't mean the breakup you caused, right?" You ask, a smug grin on your face

"I didn't break up with anyone." He defended, his face twisting with anger.

"Did Lucy Gray hit you in the head when you were with her? You seem a bit confused as to who ended our relationship." You say

Did you know what happened in the forest between them? Did you know that he nearly ran off with her and how she disappeared into the trees before he could get her? No, you couldn't possibly, there were no other witnesses other than him and Lucy. Unless that damn Covey of her was spreading rumors. He'd have to look into them soon.

"No, she has nothing to do with this. Where we are now is all on you." He says, stopping the dance, upset that you'd even think of mentioning her. Honestly, why would you even think that he was entangled with her, he was sure you heard the rumors of how they fell out.

"You're joking right. I still have that video evidence of you two kissing if you want to come back to mine and rewatch it, you clearly are not remembering correctly. I don't have any issues reminding you how you hurt me. " You say dropping his hand

"I remember just fine, thank you. I remember perfectly that you're the one who caused our end after you went crazy over something that wasn't even real." He said, upset that you weren't accepting what he was saying.

His eyes widen when you step towards him. You're so close he can smell that fruit-smelling perfume you love so much. From across the room, it might look like two old friends whispering funny secrets to each other.

"If it wasn't real then why did you chase her? I know about your little bribe that got you sent to twelve instead of eight. You can't manipulate me the way you do everyone else, Coryo."

And then you're walking away from him and back into the arms of that Aesop and his ugly fashion decisions. He could barely believe what had just transpired. He hadn't ever had a girl that walked away from him like that, he had thought he had become irresistible to so many, and yet here you were leaving him on the dance floor after insulting him.

Coriolanus certainly had a lot of nerve, you'd give him that. Not only was he completely deluded about what had happened between the two of you but he clearly couldn't accept you moving on from him. Of course, you knew he'd be like this. It had been only a week or so after Dr. Gaul had brought him back from District 12 that he started showing up at your family home, asking your mother, father, and even the maids if you would see him. You had instructed them all to turn him away and yet every time he showed up you'd wait and watch as he walked away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

You had been right, your Coryo would come running back. You knew that Songbird of his would turn on him eventually. Rumors swirled around the inner circles of the Capitol that she had disappeared or perhaps she was dead. Despite the rumors that came in hushed whispers, you had a gut feeling Coriolanus had something to do with it. Did he scare the poor bird off? Or maybe harm her so she'd never return to Panem? Either way, no one had a clear story on her, but all you knew was that her dulcet voice would never charm Coriolanus again. With Lucy Gray gone, you knew exactly what you wanted, you were going to get Coriolanus Snow back.

Getting him back meaning revenge, of course. Why would any sane person want to get him back romantically?

You started with small things, things you knew would deepen his interest in you again. Some days you deliberately made sure you were in Dr. Gaul's lab talking to the crazy woman when he showed up after his university had ended for the day.

"When did you start working here?" He asks when he sees you in the lab for the first time

"Oh, Dr. Gaul and I are busy coordinating the camera angles and such. It's easier just to work here with her rather than send assistants from my office with information. More direct, you know."

He nods and takes his place at his own desk but you don't miss how he smiles to himself, undoubtedly happy you're here with him.

What a fool he's turned out to be.

Other times you'd make sure to wear red, the same shade as the coat he seemed to love so dearly, and then bump into him as he walked through the Department of War.

"You ought to look where you're walking." He says, after practically body slamming into him.

The force hadn't been enough to move him but you had ended up on the cold ground on your ass. What the hell did they feed him in District 12? A brick wall? No man should be that sturdy.

"Right, sorry about that." You smile taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet

You feel Coriolanus' eyes roam your outfit choice. A white button down paired with a deep red pencil skirt and tall heels, you must've looked good because he didn't say much and let you do the talking as you walked to Gaul's lab together, not letting go of his hand.

The cherry on top though, had to be the day you wore a low-cut shirt to a meeting about this year's games. You knew what made that boy tick and sure enough, his eyes were locked on your chest for the entire presentation on the new audio systems you were planning to get installed in the arena. He really hasn't changed much, has he?

"What are you doing after this?" He whispered next to you as Gaul displayed photos of whatever new terrors she had planned for this year's Tributes.

"Nothing interesting. I was planning on eating dinner and then perhaps taking a long bath." You say honestly

"Want to eat dinner with me?" He asked, a grin spread across his face

There was that boyish charm that had convinced you to enter a relationship in the first place.

"Sure. As long as you aren't the one cooking." You smile, knowing he was the worst chef in all of Panem.

Coriolanus stifles a laugh, which he tries to disguise as a cough when Dr. Gaul looks at him mid-sentence about the reproductive organs of whatever mutt she had drummed up.

"Oh trust me, I won't be. There's a nice place a couple of blocks away." He says

"It's a date." You smile

Coriolanus wasn't lying when he said the restaurant was nice. Pretty white tablecloths adorned the tables along with candles and delicate-looking roses atop each of them. A huge crystal chandelier was the real eye-catcher though, you loved the way it glimmered in the light.

"You know I was joking when I said this was a date, Coryo." You say as you wait for the hostess to help the man in front of you.

"Why? I'd love to go on another date with you." He smiles, bumping his shoulder with yours

"Right because our last stab at a relationship went so well." You roll your eyes

"I personally think we worked well together." He said confidently

"You're joking, right? You literally called me insane." You remind him

"Look, I don't want to fight. Let's just have a nice meal, okay?" He says, not denying his actions for once

"Yeah, okay." You agree, not missing the way his eyes roll.

The hostess is a bit overly eager to seat you both, she gushes over Coriolanus' coat and how sharp it makes him look, taking special care to not even spare a glance at you. Despite your annoyance, you don't miss how Coriolanus eats the attention up and flirts right back despite just proclaiming how he wants to go on another date with you. Honestly, where does this man even get the nerve?

"So what's good here?" You ask when she finally leaves but not until after she complimented his eyes and hair.

"You haven't been here? I come here often, the chicken dish they serve is particularly wonderful." He says, pretending like he wasn't interested in her.

"No, I haven't been here. Some of us work instead of spending their money on fancy chicken." You roll your eyes at his posh tone.

"Alright, sorry. Don't get all crazy on me again." He huffs, hiding his face behind his menu, pretending to stare at it when it only had 3 options on it.

Silence settles over the table as you pretend to weigh your options like you aren't going to take his recommendation and get the chicken. As you sit there and pretend to look at your menu, you glance at him and his perfect hair. His face is just as you remember it although it was a tad bit more stern than it was before he was sent to District 12. Whatever Lucy Gray did to him had sent him spiraling that was certain. A portly-looking man comes up to your table and pours you both glasses of wine before opening his mouth to speak.

"Mr. Snow, I am the manager of this restaurant and I'd like to personally extend a warm welcome to you and your guest tonight. If there's anything you need, please ask. You as well, ma'am."

You smile politely and nod as Coriolanus thanks the man and shakes his hand.

"You know this could be your life all the time if you wanted to give the two of us a try again." He says after dismissing the manager.

"What do you mean?" You ask confused, he already knew you had money of your own, definitely enough to attend a restaurant like this, it just wasn't your personal style.

"You'd never have to work again with me at your side. I'm sure you've heard that I'm planning to run for the presidency soon. I'm the favored candidate as well." He says confidently, reaching out so that your hands are linked across the table

"What makes you think that I would want to never work again. I enjoy running my company. It's my mother's blood sweat and tears that went into it." You defend, watching how his thumbs run over the backs of your hands. To anyone else, this might look like a romantic conversation between lovers

"I'm just saying you could be the First Lady of Panem one day with me and you'd never want for anything else. All you'd ever have to do is sit by my side." He smiles, almost kindly at you

"So you want to lock me up in some big house somewhere, just for yourself." You say, seeing through his honey-coated words

"If you're not interested then why the hell did you even accept my invitation to come here? Why have you been popping into Gaul's lab when I'm there, and don't think I haven't noticed that low-cut shirt of yours. Are you into parading yourself around like a common whore for everyone else to see? What would Aesop think?" He suddenly snaps, harshly grabbing onto your hands and squeezing.

There he was, the man of the hour. This is who Coriolanus Snow truly was, not whatever charming front he liked to wear around so many, including you. You smiled, that front, the wall he had built oh so perfectly, brick by brick had crumbled and the snake had finally come out to play.

"You think I'm a whore? How sweet of you, Coryo. You should know I love pet names in a relationship, that's why Aesop calls me hon." You say not blinking an eye as his nails dig into your skin.

You can tell your reaction isn't what he had planned because he recoils slightly and the pressure in your hands drops just a bit.

"If you weren't interested in me then why have you been acting like...some love-struck teen the past few weeks? Why the... eye-catching shirt today for a business meeting? You knew I was still interested in you so why are you rejecting me now?" He asks, clearly genuinely upset and curious

"Oh come on, Coryo I thought it would be obvious." You smirk

"Well, it isn't. And, you should know I hate lies now , so how about we agree to not lie to each other." He says, in desperate need of your answer.

You nod, and he releases your hands, satisfied with your submission

"Coryo, the reason I did all those things is quite obvious in fact, I'm sure that even little Lucy Gray would've been able to tell the reasons behind my actions."

You want to laugh at the way he squirms in his fancy chair when her name falls from your lips. While you once viewed her as some little homewrecker, you now saw her as an ally. The perfect ally to shatter this man's fragile ego. Whatever she had done to him, she got him good. Now, all you had to do was finish the job.

"You see, Coriolanus, I'm honestly surprised you didn't realize sooner, given you're so good at it yourself, by the way, don't think I don't know what really happened to Dean Highbottom or Sejanus Plinth. I know what you are, Coryo. Your sweet seductive words and pretty face can only get you so far." You let a smile stretch across your face, you were truly enjoying the climax of this game, "The reason behind my actions and my pretty shirt that you've been staring down all day and enjoying is simple really, it's just a little revenge. Revenge for how you made me feel when you went running off with Lucy Gray. It's revenge for whatever you may or may not have done to her in the forest of District 12. It's as plain and as simple as just a girl getting revenge on a past lover."

You stand from your seat and watch Coriolanus' eyes widen he finally realizes that you had been stringing him on for weeks ever since that party. You want to laugh at the way his hands had balled up into fists and his face reddened. Perhaps he'd start crying. Now that would be funny.

"Why?" He asks, unwilling to meet your eyes

"Why? Because it was fun of course. I've got my sweet revenge on a man who thought he was oh-so untouchable and you're feeling what I felt when you ran off with your Songbird. .I hope you have a wonderful evening, Coriolanus, " You explain smoothly, leaning down so your lips brush his ear, "See you in the lab tomorrow. I'll make sure to wear a shirt you'll like. "

You turn and gather your own belongings, a wide smile stretched across your face as you left him at that table. That shaken look that adorned Coriolanus' pretty face made one thing clear: you had got him back for every inch of pain he had ever caused you and Lucy Gray Baird. As you walked out of the door of that fancy restaurant he loved so much, one thought rang clear in your head, there truly was nothing better than revenge.

Part 3

Guys imagine being Coryo in this fic. First, you get dumped by your gf bc of your situationship. Then your situationship falls apart and you think you might be able to get back with your ex. So, you return home and think your ex wants you again since they're sending out signals, only to find out they've been leading you on for funsies. He's going through it.

Read the teaser for it here

If you want more Coryo content check out my masterlist. I plan to possibly release It Burns For You Part 3 on either December 3rd or 4th so stay tuned!

Taglist:

@daenerysqueenofhearts @minaxcarter

@superchatnoir07 @readz4u @darktrashsoulbear @prettyinsatiable

@angeljcca @katherines-imagines @coryoskywalker @jackchampionwhore @lauriesluver @loveangela1556

@sainzlover @snapcracklen @juliesjar @alexameliamg

@sadanimethots-blog @2008tillthen13 @f1rodrigo @dylanswifeyp

@junefoster @miglielia @cosmicgyral @jenniquinn @enkimorphe

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devildomwriter · 29 days

Text

A Devildom Easter Egg Extravaganza

Diavolo decides to hold an Easter egg hunt. Shenanigans ensue.

Slight x reader for Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephistopheles, Barbatos

[Student Council Room]

Lucifer: “You really mean to hold…an Easter egg hunt?”

Diavolo: “Why, yes! I think it will be great fun!”

Mephistopheles: “My Lord, everything you do is brilliant!”

Diavolo: “Thank you!”

Mephistopheles: “However…this holiday is in celebration of everything we are against…as is Christmas for that matter but that’s become popular here recently…”

Diavolo: *nodding* “Yes. I understand that these holidays traditionally represent and celebrate our opposites. So celebrating them not only promotes goodwill with the angels and religious exchange students but also draws attention away from its original purpose.”

Lucifer: “I see, so that’s your angle.”

Mephistopheles: “Am I missing something?”

Lucifer: “We are celebrating and promoting the secular traditions instead. Celebrating bunnies, eggs, and candy rather than my father and father-brother.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha.”

Mephistopheles: “Father-brother?”

Lucifer: “We’re done discussing this.”

Diavolo: “Anyway. I think it would be great fun to hide eggs all around RAD for the exchange students and any willing RAD students to join in. I understand it may not be especially popular with demons but I do want to incorporate holidays important to others too. It is vital to accept and learn about each other’s cultures and traditions to better respect and understand each other.”

Barbatos: “Well said, my lord.”

Mephistopheles: “In that case, I’d be more than happy to promote this in the newspaper! Leave it to me.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, Mephistopheles. I knew I could count on you!”

[Purgatory Hall]

Luke: “A what?”

Solomon: “An Easter egg hunt.”

Raphael: “We’ll be busy.”

MC: “Oh, really…”

Simeon: “Yes, we must celebrate our father-brother, after all.”

MC: “That’s such a weird way to say Jesus.”

Raphael: “Those are the only words in your language to accurately describe him.”

MC: “Right. Will you really be in the celestial realm all day though?”

Simeon: “Umm well…”

Raphael: *glaring* “We should be.”

Luke: “…”

Solomon: “You’re going to make Luke sad.”

Luke: “Wh! Hey!”

Raphael: “Luke has no reason to be sad.”

MC: “C’mon Raph, you can’t make a kid miss an Easter egg hunt. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Raphael: “That’s an inaccurate description of cruel and unusual punishment.”

MC: “But it’s true though.”

Raphael: *sigh* “I suppose we can come back after service and the banquet.”

Simeon: “Wonderful!”

Luke: “Yay! Sir Raphael, you’re the best!”

MC: “Okay, the angels are in. Let’s go tell Thirteen.”

Solomon: “I believe Diavolo already has.”

MC: “Really?”

Solomon: “Yes. He said something about some eggs containing special surprises.”

Raphael: “I have a bad feeling about this…”

[Lucifer’s Private Study]

Lucifer: “I have a headache already.”

Solomon: “Hahahaha!”

MC: “So he’s really having her rig the eggs?”

Lucifer: “Many of them yes. I fear she’s taking it overboard, hoping Solomon will find them all.”

Solomon: “How thoughtful.”

Lucifer: “How can you be wise and yet so oblivious, honestly?”

Solomon: “It just shows she’s thinking of me. She really is a good friend.”

MC: “You may need better friends.”

Lucifer: “Considering most of them want to kill you, I’d have to agree.”

Solomon: “Most? I wouldn’t say that most of them do.”

MC: “Even some of them is an issue…”

Solomon: “Well, regardless I think this hunt will be fun. You’ll be participating yes?”

MC: “I already asked if I could hide them instead.”

Solomon: “You’d like to hide them? Not find them?”

MC: “I used to hide them for the neighborhood kids. They’d still turn up years later.”

Solomon: “Don’t you suppose that’s too good at hiding them?”

MC: “You can never be too good at something unless it’s illegal.”

Solomon: “I…suppose that’s true.”

Lucifer: “That is a flawed argument and the fact you think that makes my headache worse, please leave Solomon.”

Solomon: “Only me?”

Lucifer: “That’s what I said.”

Solomon: “Wow, so cruel, Lucifer. I suppose I’ll see you this weekend.”

Lucifer: “Yes, goodbye now.”

MC: “Soooo…what’d you want to talk about?”

Lucifer: “Nothing, I just wanted him to leave and your company soothes me.”

MC: “I thought I was giving you a headache?”

Lucifer: “You do, but it’s nothing compared to Mammon.”

MC: “That’s fair.”

MC: “So are you going to compete?”

Lucifer: “Finding the eggs?”

MC: “Yeah.”

Lucifer: *smirks* “Will I get a reward if I do?”

MC: “Hmm…maybe?”

Lucifer: “I see…then I suppose I will.”

MC: “Yes! This going to be so much fun!” *hugs*

Lucifer: *blushes* “Only you could make me so excited about this holiday.”

[The Day Before Easter | RAD]

Diavolo: “Oh, MC! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be hiding these with you!”

MC: “About that…don’t you want to participate?”

Diavolo: “I think preparing it is just as exciting! Besides, there will be some places by Barbatos too and I won’t know where those are.”

MC: “So, you’ll be looking for the ones he hid?”

Diavolo: “Yes, as I oversee everything.”

MC: “Good, I love to see you have fun!”

Diavolo: “I feel the same way. Hopefully, you’ll do a bit of searching too?”

MC: “Sure, I’ll walk with you and we’ll see who finds them first.”

Diavolo: “A competition? How fun! I can hardly wait.”

Barbatos: “Young master, here are the baskets.”

MC: “That’s…a lot of eggs.”

Diavolo: “Yes, this may take us all night, I’m so excited.”

Barbatos: “MC, be careful not to trigger the traps.”

MC: “How would I know?”

Barbatos: “They’re in separate baskets, just handle them more delicately and take care they don’t open up, even the slightest bit.”

MC: “Right…”

Diavolo: “Oh my, look how this own sparkles, MC, isn’t it just—“

MC: “Where’d he go!?”

Barbatos: “And I just warned him too…”

MC: “Okay, but where did he go?”

In the distance, you hear roaring laughter and look to see a light on in RAD.

MC: “I found him.”

Barbatos: *sigh* “I suppose I should supervise this shouldn’t I?”

MC: “It’ll be okay, I’ll protect him.”

Barbatos: “Ever so reliable, MC. It’s what I love most about you.”

MC: *blushing* “G-Glad you feel that way.”

A small explosion sounds from inside.

MC: “He’s…not being careful. At all.”

Barbatos: “Good luck.”

MC: “What’ve I done?”

[A Few Hours Later]

Diavolo sits next to you on the RAD lawn covered in pink and yellow powder, hair spiked, and hands puffy and pink.

MC: “Sooo….”

Diavolo: “That was so much fun!”

MC: “Thirteen wasn’t happy about resetting them all though.”

Diavolo: “Yes, I did apologize.”

MC: “I think she laughed hard enough to forgive you.”

Diavolo: “Yes it was quite excessive.”

MC: “That’s rich coming from you.”

Diavolo: “Hm? What do you mean?”

MC: “If you laughed and a bomb went off at the same time, I’d hear you.”

Diavolo: “Pfft! Ahahahahaha.”

MC: “My point exactly. Anyway…Barbatos will skin me alive if you come back looking like this.”

You take his hands and whisper an incantation, lips close to his inflamed hands. The pink vanished and his hands returned to normal. Diavolo let out a sigh of relief.

Diavolo: “Thank goodness. That was quite itchy.”

MC: “Now all you need is a serious bath.”

Diavolo: “Oh, will you be giving it to me?”

MC: “Wh—“

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha! I’m only kidding.”

MC: “That’s a shame.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “What?”

Diavolo: *sigh* “Why don’t we go get some rest and meet early again tomorrow before the others arrive.”

MC: “Sounds like a plan.”

Diavolo smiles and ruffles your hair. You attempt to do the same but your hand gets stuck to his gelled hair, the result of an egg surprise. You stare at him, hand stuck in his hair and he stares back at you when a familiar person clears their throat.

Thirteen: “Uh…the eggs have been reset. Am I interrupting something?”

Diavolo: “We seem to be stuck.”

Thirteen: “Hahahah! Serves you right, anyway I’m headed out.”

MC: “You’re gonna leave us here?”

Thirteen: “Yes!”

Diavolo: “I see…I suppose we should call Barbatos?”

MC: “Yeah…”

[Early the next morning | House of Lamentation]

Asmodeus: “MC! You’re finally back! Where’ve you been all night? Don’t tell me you- ooooh!”

Lucifer lightly smacks Asmodeus over the back of the head.

Asmodeus: “Ow! Lucifer you big meanie.”

Lucifer: “Don’t imply such things.”

Asmodeus: “But they were gone aaaalll night. Isn’t that right? And who were they with? The hunky—“

Lucifer: “Be quiet.”

Mammon: “What’s goin’ on down here!?”

Mammon: “Hey! MC! You’re finally back!”

Satan: “I was getting worried.”

Belphegor: “Mmhm.”

MC: “One of Thirteen’s traps went off…”

Lucifer: “I see. That explains things then.”

Asmodeus: “Boo. I was hoping for some gossip.”

Belphegor: “That’s the same thing as saying you hope Diavolo and MC hooked up.”

Mammon: “Hold on, what happened!?”

Satan: “Nothing happened, Mammon. Pay attention.”

MC: “My hand got stuck to Diavolo, that’s all.”

Beelzebub: “Stuck?”

Mammon: “Huh? Stuck where!”

MC: “His head.”

Asmodeus: “Which o—“

All: “Shut up, Asmo!”

You got a few hours of rest before your alarm went off. You already had good morning texts from the angels reminding you of the importance of the day and you smiled and sighed. You changed into your Easter outfit and put on the rabbit ear headband Diavolo insisted all participants wear.

[Easter Morning | RAD Courtyard]

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you’re here!”

MC: “As promised.”

Barbatos: “Good. Participants should be showing up in a few hours and—“

Mephistopheles: “Good morning everyone.”

Diavolo: “Ah, good morning, Mephistopheles.”

Mephistopheles: “Hm? You still have baskets?”

MC: “We couldn’t finish hiding them all…there was a mishap.”

Mephistopheles: “Oh? Of what nature.”

Barbatos: “The details aren’t necessary. Why don’t you take a few pictures of the setup before we begin? See if you can spot an egg and photograph it.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. And MC.”

MC: “Hm?”

Mephistopheles: “Happy Easter?”

MC: “Aww! Thank you Mephisto, that means a lot coming from you.”

Mephistopheles: “What does that mean?”

Diavolo: “I’m so glad to see you embracing change, Mephistopheles. Very well done!”

Mephistopheles: “Naturally! One can’t help but be swayed by your genius and example, my lord.”

MC: *muttering* “Here we go.”

Barbatos: *chuckles*

After a few hours You, Diavolo, and Barbatos had finished hiding the rest of the eggs and just sat down by the sign-in booth when you heard a loud scream coming from RAD.

Barbatos: *sigh* “I told him to photograph the egg not open it.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha!”

Barbatos left swiftly to investigate and as soon as he vanished around the corner, a loud group approached the booth.

Lucifer: “We’ve arrived. I apologize if we’re late.”

Satan: “Yes, someone wouldn’t wake up.”

Belphegor: *zzz*

Asmodeus: “I can’t believe the bunny ears are staying on even though he’s slumped over Beel’s shoulder. I have to get a picture.”

Beelzebub: “Asmo…”

Asmodeus: “What? It might generate more attention for the event, right?”

Diavolo: “Wonderful idea, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus: “Thank you!”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Mammon: “So…I heard there’d be a prize.”

Leviathan: “Two minutes, I called it.”

Asmodeus: “Tch, I really thought it’d be sooner.”

Mammon: “Huh? Are you betting on me? Without me?”

Satan: “That wouldn’t make any sense idiot.”

Lucifer: “All of you shut up and sign in.”

Leviathan: “Eep! Okay.”

The brothers signed their names. Beelzebub signed Belphegor in for him and you sat around and talked.

Mephistopheles returned with Barbatos looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Lucifer: “What in the Devildom is that mess?”

Mephistopheles: “Thirteen.”

Lucifer: “Oh. So you set off a trap.”

Leviathan: “Does no one find it alarmingly easy to set them off? Like, didn’t even Lord Diavolo do that?”

You heard an amused chuckle from behind you.

Thirteen: “Duh. That’s what makes it fun.”

Barbatos: “Thirteen. What wonderful timing you have. Mind telling me what Mephistopheles is currently covered in?”

Thirteen: “That’s just a personal concoction of highly flammable spider web spray.”

Mephistopheles: “Of what!?”

Mammon: “Bahahaha!”

Mephistopheles: “Get it off of me this instant!”

MC: “Calm down Mephi, I got you.”

Mephistopheles: “Mephi?”

You brought forth a torrent of water to flush the web off Mephistopheles and then a gust of wind to blow him and his clothes dry.

He was left momentarily stunned before he sighed, patted himself down, and smoothed out his hair.

Barbatos turned on the bright lights around RAD to illuminate the lawn as the other students showed up. The presence of more than a few students elated Diavolo and the happy gleam in his eyes made all the trouble worth it.

Near the end of the thirteenth hour, a beam appeared from the sky. At first, everyone stumbled back in fear but as it disappeared, Simeon, Raphael, and Luke appeared in its place.

Barbatos: “I could’ve opened the portal.”

Raphael: “This was faster.”

Mammon: “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

Raphael: “Why?”

Luke: “MC! I’m here!”

MC: “Hello, Luke! Your Easter uniform is so cute!”

Luke: “Huh? I’m supposed to look gentlemanly not cute!”

Simeon: “You can be both.”

Luke: “No I can’t!”

Solomon: “Good morning everyone. I’m not late am I?”

Simeon: “No. We just arrived.”

Raphael was looking around from the sign-in booth, already scanning the area for eggs as though it were a mission. It gave you chills to see his serious expression but at the same time made you laugh because this was only an Easter egg hunt.

You noticed that Lucifer was doing the same thing but he was being slightly less obvious about it, giving himself reasons to be turned in a certain direction rather than just openly staring.

Luke: “MC! Will you be on my team?”

Mammon: “What? We’re forming teams!?”

Solomon: “Are we?”

Barbatos: *shaking his head* “I suppose if you wanted to you could however anything you find would be evenly split between you and not counted as a whole.”

Satan: “Every demon for themself.”

Lucifer: “I agree.”

Satan: “I’m no longer certain.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Diavolo: “Hahahaha!”

Belphegor: “Mm…quiet.”

Beelzebub: “Belphie, are you awake?”

Belphegor: “What…what’s on my head?”

Asmodeus: “Those are your bunny ears! And you look adorable!”

Belphegor: “Ugh. Kill me now.”

Asmodeus: “Your sleepy bunny pic has already generated so many likes!”

Belphegor: “My what?”

MC: “So how was the sermon? Is that what it was?”

Luke: *sobbing*

MC: “What’d I do?”

Simeon: “Each year, we visit the past to review the events before and during Easter and the future it will bring.”

MC: “That sounds emotionally traumatic.”

Raphael: “It is. And now we’re here. Looking for eggs…”

Mammon: “Just as father intended!”

Raphael pulls out his spear and Mammon takes off.

MC: “He deserves that right?”

Asmodeus: “Mhm.”

Lucifer: “Honestly…”

Thirteen: “He’s got some guts to piss an angel off on Easter.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. Especially when it’s about their father slash brother or something…”

MC: “Speaking of father and brother…”

You looked between Lucifer and Satan as they watched you. They looked at each other, back at you and Satan bared his fangs as his brothers and Diavolo managed to contain their laughter.

Satan: “Not another word!”

Beelzebub: “They didn’t say anything.”

Solomon: “Hahaha! I get it. Because Lucifer and Satan have the same dynamic.”

As Raphael runs past you he protests this idea and continues after Mammon who’s tripping over bushes in his escape attempt.

Diavolo: “Should we stop them?”

Simeon: “He earned it.” *scary smile*

Luke: “Simeon. You have that scary look in your eyes again.”

Simeon: “Oh, do I? My apologies.”

MC: “Anyway…it’s a good idea you came here after so Luke can recover from his trauma a little more easily.”

Luke: “It never goes away.”

Mephistopheles: “I’m not sure I like the haunted look in your eye.”

Solomon: “It’s weird when Luke is serious.”

Luke: “Hey what does that mean!? I’m always serious.”

Mephistopheles: “Good he’s back.”

Simeon: “Ah, yes. It does weigh heavily on us angels. Thank you for this event, Diavolo.”

Diavolo: “Yes, of course! Speaking of, it’s just about time to begin. Can someone go fetch Mammon and Raphael?”

Lucifer: “I’ll do it.”

Beelzebub: “I’ll go with him.”

Belphegor: “Set me down somewhere first.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor is placed gently on top of a bush as Beelzebub runs after Lucifer. He begins sinking into the bush and you and the others watch as the branches begin to slowly snap and he disappears into the leaves.

As soon as Raphael and Mammon are reeled in and Mammon is forced to grovel for an apology, Diavolo is given the microphone and you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Mephistopheles work together to hand everyone a woven basket to place their found eggs in.

Diavolo: “Everyone will have an hour to find as many eggs as possible, they are everyone beyond this booth on the RAD ground and I do mean everywhere so give it your best shot!”

Diavolo: “Many of the eggs contain wonderful surprises! Coupons for your favorite cafes, gift cards for your favorite stores, Grimm, fun tokens, cup-cuties, and more! But beware because there are also eggs that contain a wide variety of tricks of all kinds! You should expect flesh-eating piranha plants, bees, angry spiders, blasts of spider webs, teleportation, and potential small explosions!”

Luke and Mammon turned white but the demon students seemed extra excited by this news. Danger was an everyday occurrence for them and simply counted as fun or mildly inconvenient at best. As a human, you had a protection spell placed upon you in case of minor explosions. Luke and Simeon also had protective spells. Raphael opted to forgo this as he “wasn’t weak.”

With a wide smile, Diavolo raised his hand and everyone gathered into groups or faced the directions they planned to scour.

Diavolo: “On your marks!”

Diavolo: “Get ready!”

Diavolo: “Set!”

Diavolo: “GO!”

The ground shook as the hundreds of demons, three angels, reaper, and human sprinted past the booth.

You laughed and Diavolo helped you regain balance and handed you your basket.

Diavolo: “Shall we go observe?”

An explosion went off.

MC: “Yes!”

Barbatos trailed far behind you and Diavolo so you could talk more privately. You passed by students stuck to walls with spider webs. Students dressed more oddly than when they’d arrived. You passed by Mammon hanging from the ceiling and weren’t sure whether it had been Raphael, Lucifer, or a genuine trap. Either way, Diavolo burst into laughter alerting the others to your location immediately.

Barbatos cut Mammon down and you continued to walk with your empty basket as you enjoyed the sounds of chaos all around you.

Diavolo eyed your basket and nudged you gently.

Diavolo: “Is there someone you were hoping to go find eggs with?”

(To be continued | the remaining story with be different based on the character you choose to go with. They are all currently being written and will all be released in the following week unless unforeseen circumstances delay the writing)

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dark-and-kawaii · 11 hours

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tease ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: You aren’t sure when teasing your sensei over text became such a ritual, but honestly you wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else. You just never expected him to show up at your door.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: (Y/N) is aged up to 18 and is a third year!!! Please enjoy!!

(Y/n): “I just want you to know how disappointed I am in you, Sensei."

You decided to tease him over text.

(Y/n): “Ya know what you did is technically illegal, right?”

Ghoejo Sensei: “~Oh?”

(Y/n): “Mhmm.”

Ghoejo Sensei: “~It’s only illegal if you didn’t like it, but you liked it. Didn’t you?”

With a subtle twitch, you giggle at the memory from earlier…

You and Itadori were training with the others while Gojo Sensei observed everyone from his spot on the school building. Exhausted, you had decided to grace him with your presence, joining him leaned back against the same wall.

“Aren’t you going to get in there and rough us up, Sensei?”

He could feel your beaming warm smile. Just being around you made his day.

Laughing, Gojo’s voice was filled with pure excitement as always when with you, “Nah, i like watching everyone get thrown around…” -his voice was low so only you could hear-, “…(y/n), you really shouldn’t wear such a short skirt during training.”

“Oh?! Why’s tha-“

“Some might try to sneak a peek.”

That damn smirk of his practically had you melting while your face felt like it was about to catch on fire.

“S-Sensei? W-why would you say that!?”

Just as you were about to adjust your skirt, you heard the unmistakable snap of a camera shutter, indicating that a photo was being taken on a phone. Glancing down where the noise had come, you were shocked -not really- to discover your sensei positioning his phone under your skirt at an angle where he could see right between your legs…

Staring at the screen, you could see your black lace panties staring back at you as he tried to get another good shot.

He’s never been so bold like this in front of other students… Let alone out in the open on school property. If one of the others saw anything you- fuck, or the higher ups… you both would be kicked off the grounds and- and- oh god the reputation!

Gojo’s would be tarnished and you- … Okay you didn’t really have a reputation to worry about, but still! You damn well would after everyone finds out you’ve been sleeping with the famous sorcerer, also known as your Sensei!! This was far too risky of him-

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gojo never once looked in your direction, “~Shhh… No one saw, (y/n). Go back to training though, before i puni-”

“Hey! (Y/n)! Are you coming back!” Itadori was waving for you to come back over to them, his foot on Megumi’s back.

Now here you are, back in your room, lying on your bed with restless legs as you texted your beloved Sensei.

(Y/N): “I didn’t say I enjoyed it, Sensei 🥺.”

You tried to make the text sound innocent, but you knew how he liked to play games. So, why not play along?

(Y/n): “What did I gain by you snapping a photo? Perhaps I should tell the higher ups?”

GhoeJo Sensei: “~Oh ho, are you threatening me little girl?”

Chuckling to yourself, you could just picture the smug expression on Gojo's face. He wasn't intimidated by you at all, and you were well aware of it. Yet, you found the whole situation amusing.

(Y/n): “Noooo, never! …But… what if I confided in Itadori? Sukuna would hear what happened, and I don’t think he’d like that all too well, now would he?”

Although you couldn't see it, Gojo's playful smile vanished immediately as he read your latest text. He spent several minutes just looking at the screen. It was true, Sukuna had grown quite fond of you- to an extent that was hard to ignore. Sukuna had even managed to gain control over Yuji, solely to rescue you from a special grade curse. On another occasion, Sukuna took control of Itadori's arm, just to drape it around your waist according to what Yuji had told him… And there was that time the notorious king of curses forcibly broke down your room’s door...

Not even realizing how hard he was holding his phone, Gojo’s eyes snapped open fully to the sound of his delicate screen cracking… “tsk..”

Several minutes passed before his phone chimed. It took him a moment to register that you had sent him a photo, a close up shot at that, and it left little to the imagination. You were pulling up your thong so that the contours of your pussy lips could be seen through the thin fabric. Gojo took note of the small little damp spot… It was a simple yet effective tease, but before he could fully appreciate the image, another photo arrived.

In this one, the fabric was pulled taut, accentuating the details even more explicitly. This time, you were pulling up your panties high enough so that they were digging into your crotch, exposing those sweet little pussy lips he could lap at all day long.

(Y/n): “That’s what you wanted, right Sensei? You know if you just wanted photo’s all you had to do was ask 😉.”

After pressing the send button, you swiftly undressed shedding each layer of fabric from your body. As you stripped down the anticipation grew, wondering what your sensei might have in store for you. The silence that followed the Sukuna text left you questioning if it had truly affected him though…

Now completely naked, you position yourself on the bed, ready to capture one final enticing image. On your knees, your tongue playfully extended from your mouth, while your lips form a 'O' shape. With the camera angled just right, it captures the perfect view deep down your throat. Using your free hand, you do your best to mimic the imagery of holding a cock next to your plump lips mouth, your drool cascading down the corners of your lips…

(Y/n): *image*

Ghoejo Sensei: “You’re such a naughty girl for me. ~I’m gonna have to spank you the next time I see you.”

Taking a deep breath you press your face into your bed, raising your ass in the air. Your arm stretched back with your phone, positioning it so that your wet folds could be captured along with your ass.

(Y/n): *image*

Ghoejo Sensei: “Are you touching yourself to my texts, baby girl? Is that tight little pussy craving my attention?"

Your hips moved back and forth as the pad of your middle finger slowly rubbed your clothed clit. It was so sensitive that just the slightest touch would cause a small jolt through your body.

(Y/n): “wouldn’t you like to know.”

Ghoejo Sensei: voice message

Pressing play on the voice message, you can hear the rustling of sheets and clothes being thrown around. Your body shivers when his voice begins.

Ghoejo Sensei: “Don’t worry, daddy will come take care of you.”

A soft whimper leaves your lips. Closing your eyes, you imagine your tall, lean sensei standing in the doorway. His head tilted slightly downward, allowing the shadows to conceal his face except for that damn smug smile…

You could feel your face flush, this was so embarrassing… What if someone barged in your room… Especially Itadori, well Sukuna… Burying the thought deep within your head, you lift your phone above your ass again with the camera pointed down and with your other hand you did your best to spread open your delicate asshole. With a snap and a simple click, you send it…

(Y/n): “I’m ready and waiting.”

Gojo was lying on his bed, his pants undone, hand pumping his cock slowly. With each text he would read, his hand would increase its speed.

(Y/n): *image*

When he saw the last photo, his phone was practically crushed by his tight grip. He could feel his balls tighten as precum began to spill from the tip of his thick cock, the veins swollen around it giving it a nice texture. The sight of your tight hole had him biting his lip as the image replayed in his head, and the fact that you were spreading your asshole to reveal it just for him made him cum instantly.

He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling as his cum spurted across his chest. His head was thrown back as he released a strangled groan, “such a naughty little tease”.

Of course he wasn’t tired quite yet, he had the stamina of a god and he became rock hard once again. He already looked at you differently from his other students and now after this he really wasn’t going to be able to look at you as just his student he’s having a fling with again. You were a sexual object to be desired now, someone he wished to keep forever, but at this very moment he would give anything to be the reason your asshole was gapping in this picture or why you were drooling in your first photo.

Ghoejoe: “You should come sneak in my room, again.”

You didn’t obliged, instead you sent a string of photos detailing you fingering your ass and probing your slick pussy with two fingers after. Playing with your breasts, rolling your nipples between your fingers, you even captured yourself throwing your head back as you tugged on one of your nipples, as if you were a cow ready to be milked.

You had to admit to yourself that you loved doing this, spreading your legs like some whore for her sensei… The thought alone sent shivers of pleasure throughout your entire body.

Gojo: *image*

It was a photo of his beautiful cock, the head still a deep red and swollen. His thick shaft was covered in his own cum and a bit of precum. You could feel the juices leaking from your pussy as you stared at the photo.

Grabbing your pink vibrator from your dresser you pressed it into your welcoming pussy, your eyes glued to the photo the entire time. Turning the dial to its max setting, the buzzing could be heard as you slid the toy in and out. Pulling the toy out, you quickly placed the head to your sensitive clit, rolling it around your nub. The thought of his large hands on you again was turning you into a moaning mess, you could feel your juices slip past your toy and onto the sheets, could feel yourself cream around the base of it. Fuck, why couldn’t he be here with you now, you needed your sensei, needed your Satoru to come take care of you.

Your hand was trembling making it hard to hold onto your phone yet you still managed to capture a photo of you mid orgasm. There was a stream of clear liquid in the frame, your face full of shock at having squirted was apparent. You couldn’t believe how dirty you felt, it was intoxicating.

“~Oh baby girl, you’re so filthy! Look at you, you’ve gone and made quite the mess.”

Your phone flung across the room while you made the cutest little yip noise, your legs shutting together at the surprise voice. Gojo appeared in your room, his heavenly blue eyes peering at your from behind his sunglasses. His large hands come to your knees and parted your legs so he can rub between your pussy lips with his thumb…

“S-Sensei… I- Why are you h-here…?” Your voice was so cute to him, you could barely even speak as he rubs your slick entrance. “You know why i’m here, (y/n). Now, why don’t you tell me what a dirty little girl you are, and maybe I won't have to punish you so hard this time, hm? Tell your sensei how much you were enjoying yourself and maybe I'll let you suck on this cock.”

He leaned down, his head between your legs. Goosebumps forming whenever his snowy hair tickles your soft thighs. With no hesitation he sticks his tongue out to licks up your folds, lapping up your arousal from before.

“Mmm… Sensei~♡! I-i'm a dirty girl- A dirty little whore for you~!” His tongue was licking all over, teasing your clit with each swipe. He had one hand keeping your legs apart and the other was gripping the sheets.

“Tell me what you're a whore for, baby girl~.” His hot breath against your wet pussy, the way his nose nudges against your sensitive nub.

“I-I'm a dirty- A dirty little cockwhore, S-sensei~. I want you- Need your cock in my- ah~! in my mou-mouth, in my pus- pussy, my ass~~~♡!!”

The way your hips bucked with every swipe of his tongue, the way your breathing was uneven and shaky. Oh the sounds you were making, the moans, the whimpers. His eyes almost rolled back at the feeling of your juices against his tongue, his lips, “That’s my girl.”

Before you could scream his name you bit down on your lip to silence yourself. You can’t afford to have someone hear this… Not when these walls were so thin… You were finally getting what you wanted tonight, attention from your sensei, Gojo Satoru, and you wanted nothing more than to scream his name… But with Sukuna around, quite literally on the other side of these walls, the price you’d pay would be far greater if he heard you and Gojo going at it…

As your back arches, he moves his hand to press it firmly down on your lower abdomen, a way of trying to pin you down as his tongue delves deeper. You were so close to coming undone, your body was trembling.

Gojo knows he’ll drag this out since it was his favorite form of punishment. And he also knows you hold back your noises so that Sukuna wouldn’t hear, and he knows its for your own safety… However, you had him to protect you, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you.

Pulling back from between your legs, you both make eye contact, your chest rising with every heavy breath you take…

“(y/n), don’t hold it back… Say my name tonight. Let him hear it, let him know who you belong to tonight.”

A blush forms as you realize what he said.

Gojo wants him to hear you tonight, to hear how good you were for him. To know that he had a claim on his favorite little student…

“B-but…”

“Tut tut, no buts my sweet little cinnamon swirl. The only buts i’m allowing is this one.” He squeezes your ass, earning another cute little noise from you.

“Goj-Satoru… You- I.. We ca-can’t get caught by anyone though.” There’s tears in your eyes, he can see you’re genuinely afraid for him, not for you…

“(y/n). Let me handle the higher ups and everyone else.” Looking down, he watches as your pussy glistens with his saliva… His thumb brushing over your skin, “I’ve always wanted a good excuse to piss off the higher ups,” -His features soft- “You’re a good reason to fight them, so let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight, and don’t worry about Sukuna.”

His lips came down onto yours tenderly, as if you had both been lovers for years. Your eyes shut tight as his tongue glides across your bottom lip, requesting permission to enter. Opening your mouth, his tongue delves into the warm cavern and his cock twitches.

“I’m stronger after all.” He sticks his tongue out at you with a wink before thrusting his cock inside of your waiting pussy. You cry out his name, arching your back so far that it hurt, but the pain was forgotten as soon as you felt his hot cock buried deep within your needy pussy.

“Tonight, let me hear you scream my name.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #Gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk satoru #Satoru #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows the risk, he knows the danger, he knows how stupid it is. But the thing is, he's never been good at avoiding risks or not being stupid. So here he is, pressing Ray against the wall of the Hideout, because he's five beers and three tequila shots in, and he wants it, no, he needs it, he needs to feel something to make that gnawing feeling in his chest go away, and Ray is available and willing and honestly not too bad considering the size of the queer dating pool around a town like Hawkins.

'Eddie.' Ray pulls back in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to slow him down. 'We're not at some gay club in Indy, man, you shouldn't –'

'Shouldn't I?' Eddie interrupts him. 'What if I don't care that we're not in Indy?' His lips find Ray's again, and Ray doesn't make any other attempts to cease what they're doing, so he supposes it's all good and presses his whole body as close to Ray's as he possibly can. He's swaying on his feet a little bit and his head is spinning, but Ray's arms around his back are keeping him steady enough – until a sudden blow lands against his shoulder and he finds himself stumbling backwards.

Fuck. He should've known, of course. Something about not taking risks, right?

‘The hell are you doing, freak?’

He blinks rapidly to get the blurry blonde-haired face opposite him into his focus.

‘What does it look like we’re doing?’ he scoffs.

It’s Jason Carver, he now realizes, because of-fucking-course it is. The guy brusquely shoves him against the wall; beside him, he hears Ray utter a scared gasp. He blindly grabs Ray’s wrist, because no matter the haze in his brain, he still thinks he should probably do something to comfort the guy - and he watches Jason’s eyes flick down at the movement before they settle back onto Eddie’s face.

‘Looks like you’re practicing sodomy out in the open,’ Jason breathes out.

Eddie can’t help it - he laughs. ‘You’re about ten years behind, Carver. Nothing illegal ‘bout that anymore.’

‘Tell that to Leviticus 18:22. “Do not have sexual rela-”‘

‘What part of me makes you think I give a single shit about goddamn Leviticus?’

‘Eddie,’ Ray chimes in, with a slightly begging edge to his voice that Eddie has only heard in very different circumstances before. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Jason settles his gaze onto Ray now, loosening his grip on Eddie’s upper arms a little bit. His blue eyes look innocent as ever, but that’s exactly the thing that makes Jason Carver so dangerous - Eddie knows that all too well.

‘No, you’re not going anywhere yet.’ A slight smile is playing around his lips, as if he’s actually enjoying this - which he is, of course, the fucking psycho. ‘I think I’m gonna need to put the fear of God back into you two first.’

His strike is sudden and unexpected despite the build-up; Eddie didn’t actually think he’d have it in him. An involuntary gasp escapes his lips when he witnesses how Ray’s head gets knocked against the wall of the building with a thump that blends right in with the loud bass emerging from the bar.

The alcohol has made Eddie slow - too slow - and Jason catches his wrist before he can punch back properly.

‘Ray -’ Eddie pants.

But Ray is already getting away, running as fast as he can across the parking lot without even once looking back. Jason’s eyes flash quickly back and forth between the two boys, but he seems to decide that going after Ray isn’t quite worth it if he has the superior target - the drunk freak - right in front of him. He twists Eddie’s wrist into a painful angle with his left arm, using his right for a well-aimed blow against Eddie’s jaw.

Eddie tries to aim his knee at Jason’s most vulnerable parts, but he’s too sluggish and Jason too quick on his feet, and before he can really shake off the stars that are dancing around in his vision, he feels another two hits against his face and then one in his stomach, making him gasp for air as he tries to find some support from the building behind him. Before he knows it he’s knocked down to the ground - but then, another pair of legs appears in his vision and when he lifts his head, he sees Jason being knocked back a few steps by someone - no, not just someone - by Steve.

Before Jason can even raise his hand to hit back, Steve grabs his wrist and twists his arm while landing a punch in his face with his free hand. Eddie scrambles to his feet, getting himself out of the way of Steve throwing his whole body into the fight, shoving Jason against the wall; a choked groan escapes from Jason’s mouth when Steve hits him right in his stomach.

Steve catches hold of the other guy’s collar as he presses him against the wall. Jason’s usually meticulously styled hair is hanging over his eyes and his lip is bleeding.

‘You stay the hell away from my friends or the next time we run into each other will do some irreparable damage to that pretty face of yours, Carver. Now get the hell outta here.’ There’s more of the old King Steve in there than Eddie has seen in years, and it’s twisting his stomach in a way that has nothing to do with the punch he received there half a minute ago.

‘Fuck off, Harrington,’ Jason spews out when Steve releases his grip. ‘You’re pathetic. Have fun hanging out with the freaks.’

But words can’t hurt - not when they’re coming out of Jason Carver’s mouth anyway - so Steve gives him a final shove into his back as the guy stumbles away with a limp in his step.

Steve turns around to face Eddie, his chest still heaving.

‘You won a fight!’ Eddie exclaims triumphantly, while making the mental note not to forget any details so he can tell Dustin all about it tomorrow. He strongly doubts how much he’ll remember by the next day, however, and he kinda wishes he hadn’t been drinking this much.

But Steve doesn’t look nearly as victorious as he should; there’s a frown on his face and his lips are pressed tightly together.

‘Jesus, Eddie, what happened?’ His eyes are wide as they wander over Eddie’s face, and this is probably not the moment to think anything along the lines of ‘Holy fucking shit, Steve is worried about me!’ but it’s pretty clear by now that Eddie doesn’t really care about right moments anyway.

‘Nothing to worry about, Stevie.’ He tries to grin, but the movement is hurting his jaw and he has to bite back a groan. ‘Just a good old-fashioned Indiana hate crime.’

The frown on Steve’s face deepens. ‘Did he - did you -’

He doesn’t finish his question, and Eddie merely shrugs in response.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Steve brushes both his hands over his face in an exasperated motion. Then, his expression settles into something softer, more cautious.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Aside from the fact that my hookup fucking left me to be beaten to pulp by the local Christian psychopath and my head feels like it might split in two, yes, never better.’

Steve huffs. ‘Fair enough,’ he mumbles under his breath. ‘Alright, why don’t we go inside and get you cleaned up?’

He holds out his arms to support Eddie, but Eddie stubbornly chooses to ignore that - until he takes the first step and the combined dizziness of the shots and the fight almost immediately sends him crashing to the pavement.

‘Woah, I got you, man.’

Steve’s strong arms keep him steady before he can even blink, and maybe it’s not so bad after all, to feel those warm hands firmly around his arms with every step he takes.

Eddie clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the bass that starts hammering into his skull as soon as they step back inside the bar, and he lets Steve guide him to the restroom without paying attention to any of the staring patrons around them.

Steve lifts Eddie up like he weighs nothing and positions him on the sink, then swiftly turns on the tap and gets himself some paper towels. Eddie notices the blood on his knuckles, but Steve seems to be more worried about Eddie’s face than about his own injuries: he starts carefully dabbing the bruises at Eddie’s temple with the bundle of wet towels in his hand, with a concentrated frown between his brows and his eyes fixed on the damage that has been done. There seems to be a kind of routine to his movements, and something about that kind of makes Eddie want to cry.

‘You gonna tell me what happened exactly?’ Steve asks.

‘You know what happened,’ Eddie replies stiffly. ‘Forgot that this is what happens when you kiss someone.’

The worry on Steve’s face turns into skepticism.

‘So let me get this straight,’ he says, now moving the wet paper towel down over Eddie’s cheek, ‘You decided it was a good idea to have a full-on makeout session with a guy right outside the Hideout for everyone to see and -’

‘So I deserved it?’ Eddie cuts him off, a biting undertone to his voice.

Steve’s gaze flashes away from Eddie’s cheek and settles on his eyes. ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, man,’ he says, warning. ‘I just - I don’t want you to get hurt if you don’t have to. Were you even thinking at all?’

‘Hm. If you put it like that, it really does sound stupid, huh?’

‘Well, I hope it was worth it.’ There it is again, that coldness.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hooking up with some random dude outside a bar. I hope it was worth the punches. Seriously Eddie, why would you even do that?!’

He probably shouldn’t be saying this. No, he really shouldn’t be saying this. But there’s something about the way in which Steve is phrasing all this shit that makes him feel cornered. ‘Because I needed to forget about you.’ He lets it slip out before he can stop it. God-fucking-damnit.

Steve’s hand freezes mid-dab, cloth hovering in the air in front of Eddie’s skin. His mouth opens, the inevitable What?! frozen on his lips.

‘There you have it,’ Eddie says with a stiff shrug. ‘Not only stupid enough to get beaten up while I shoulda known better, but also to fall for my straight friend like the total idiot I so clearly am.’ He can’t even look at Steve anymore, fixes his gaze on a point somewhere behind Steve’s shoulder. ‘You know what, you should go home. I’ll get myself cleaned up; I can walk to Reefer Rick’s and crash there.’

But Steve moves to position himself right in front of Eddie, making it impossible for him to jump off the sink like he was planning to.

‘No, we’re not going anywhere.’

‘Steve, c’mon, this whole shitshow has been embarrassing enough as it is, alright?’ He feels the burning behind his eyes; he knows what’s gonna come next and he doesn’t want Steve to be the witness to that. ‘I don’t wanna talk about it. Just - at least give me the dignity to have my pathetic breakdown in private.’

‘Well, I do wanna talk about it, and you know what, Eddie?’ There’s a certain edge to Steve’s voice that Eddie can’t quite place. ‘You are a total idiot. I don’t know why the hell you would ever assume I’m straight, so honestly, that’s on you, man.’

It takes a good few seconds before Eddie’s hazy brain finally catches up to Steve’s words. Wait, what?!

‘Steve, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me right now...’

‘I wish I was.’ And something about the complete seriousness with which Steve says that, finally makes the penny drop in Eddie’s head.

For a couple of seconds, he can only stare at Steve, frozen in time and in the hundreds of words that are hidden behind that soft brown-eyed gaze of his. Then, he stretches out his hands, wraps them around Steve’s waist, tugging him closer between his legs, reaching -

But Steve doesn’t kiss him. He merely envelops Eddie in his strong arms, tangles his fingers into his hair, rests his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck...

‘Steve...’

‘Not right now, Eddie,’ Steve murmurs into his hair. ‘Not like this. Just let me hold you, okay?’

So he does. He lets Steve hold him. He feels his arms around him, feels his waist pressed against the inside of his thighs, feels the warmth radiating from his body, hears the steady breathing in his ear, smells the scent of hairspray and aftershave and something he never smelled before. And he lets Steve take him home, where he keeps clinging onto him like a koala to a tree - and he doesn’t even mind that nothing else happens while he’s in Steve’s bed for the first time, because he’s there, and Steve’s there with him - and for now, that’s more than enough.

#tw violence #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #fruity ficlet #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #jason carver #stranger things

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Note

Capt’ Mactavish’s wife *running* out the house for her girls night with ‘09 reader because Johnny can’t keep his hands to himself when she’s dressed up.

She’s taken to a squirt bottle. He was kissing on her neck from behind the couch. Mauling her when she whipped it out the first time. He fell back with an ‘ACK!’ and a loud thud and she’s just like ‘that’s what you get for acting like a horny teen!’

“You were tryin’ for a bairne yea? I’ve been reading up on positions! Lemme show you!” And she’s just like- I’m not going to survive this, am I? “I can pick up where we left off hen! Trust!”

I imagine Captain Mactavish went for a woman who is *younger* than himself. She’s a few years older than Soap, but she grew used to her grizzled ol’ guy and his routine! She’s old at heart now! He couldn’t immediately get it up every 3 minutes. But! He would take longer to cum, so the sessions were more intimate.

Soap? God, she’s not used to this! She needs water! They’re going into 5, 6 rounds and she’s blacking out! But, she doesn’t want to because she’s ‘scared’ he’ll keep going!!! She enjoys his enthusiasm, it’s sweet to see this part of her Johnny that she didn’t get to experience much! but, GOD DAMN *sprays squirt bottle*

…”this a subliminal message lass? This your mind trick to tell me you can squirt? Shit lass! Let’s get on that! Lemme figure it out myself!” Just talking you through the entire thing….

He’s totally asking what the baby names you were looking at were, while balls deep. what your registry looked like as he prods your cervix. Do ya’ have a Pinterest board for what ya’ want the nursery to look like? Add him, please? As he shoots his load deep. “You want a girl, or boy lass? What’re we havin’? Tell me what to give ya.” He cooed as he holds your legs up, elevated so it TAKES.

“I can pick up where we left off hen! Trust!” <- foul. foul foul foul i need him.

Captain MacTavish would totally be the sly type. Oh, the words he whispers into the ears of the ladies should be illegal. I believe he had his fun in his youth and was definitely a little older, but then he saw his wife and said, "Gunnae marry that, I am."

Wife doesn't see the similarities in their pursuit of her because one was suave about it. the other just doesn't care about what he looks like in the eyes of others, and she highkey loves that— just won't admit it.

I love love love that Capt. Soap is passionate when they have sex, but reg Soap is like im gonna get you pregnant, money back guarantee.

"Whadye mean tha' ye need a break? We've jus' begun, bonnie..." he says that 5 rounds in. Pussy is swollen, hole is abused, and she's been stuffed with so much cum it's no longer staying inside even at the angle he has her in to keep it in. She makes a mental note to (ask jeeves) if shooting blanks after finishing multiple times back-to-back is a thing.

She finds squirting embarrassing, as does when her cunt gets air inside but Soap??? Living his best life with it.

"Dinnae be embarrassed, hen, i love it when yer pussy talks back to me." <- this is so embarrassing my face is on fire

He definitely tries to get her to squirt, but he loses all patience because 'Ye just feel so good around my fingers, I cannae wait any longer.'

Soap tells her that his family has twins as he pumps her full of cum, and that he already has a list with names if she wants to go over it sometime later today.

He tells her that he's quit drinking, he's always hydrating, and that he takes his daily vitamins just to give his seed a better chance.

#multiverse cod

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damnfandomproblems · 6 months

Text

Fandom Problem #4364:

Literally every anti argument falls apart when actually approached from a rational angle

"This is illegal"

It's literally not. Artistic portrayals of things that are illegal are not themselves illegal. There would have to be an actual victim involved for it to be illegal. Fictional characters are not real.

"This could be used to groom kids"

You know how else kids get groomed? Being given attention and kindness when they aren't getting it anywhere else.

Abuse is the fault of the abuser, no one else, not any books or movies or fanfics they read, don't give them any excuses.

"You're making light of MY trauma"

Sorry, i don't think you're a cartoon character. This doesn't involve you in any way, shape, or form.

You're also assuming you know what sort of trauma the creator does and doesn't have.

"If you ARE doing it out of your own trauma that's an unhealthy coping mechanism, go to therapy"

If you actually went to therapy you'd know that any real therapist wouldn't condemn using fiction to explore dark topics, it's in fact a highly recommended way of confronting trauma.

"Why wouldn't you just write about wholesome positive things instead?"

Because forcing positivity instead of expressing darker emotions in the place that is meant to be safe to express them is just pushing down negative emotions and not confronting them, the thing that therapy tells you NOT to do.

They say art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed, afterall.

"This is triggering to me I don't want to see it"

You have tools to avoid this. Use them. DON'T actively seek out things you know upset you out of some misplaced sense of justice.

"It's still weird though."

You're allowed to think that, but "weird" isn't inherently immoral. You're on the internet, afterall, you'd better get used to the weird.

#ask box submission #fandom problem 4364

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autumnsnuggling · 8 months

Text

"I Have a Room Here"

Thanks to @stargazing-enby for the screaming, @rei382 for the alpha, and @annanother-thing for the beta!

2.5k words. TW: Minor panic attacks. Draco has anxiety.

“I have a room here,” he blurts out.

He’s in the hallway, making his way out of the building when he sees him entering. Sees his eyes widen in recognition. Sees his carefully constructed world set to crumble around him.

“I— I mean I live here. Now. I’m not here illegally, or doing anything dodgy. While I'm—” His leg jigs. “I— I have a room here and I like it and I can't move, please don't make me.”

He frowns, and it's almost convincing, almost makes him believe he's not just a lion lying in the grass, waiting to pounce.

“I'm not here to make you leave. I have a room here too. I moved in last week. Ask the landlord.” He regards Draco for a moment. “I couldn’t make you move if I wanted to, Draco.” He pauses, as though for effect. Draco’s skin crawls. “And I would never want to do that.”

He knows it's a lie, that it’s just a matter of time, but he nods and scarpers anyway, door slamming too loudly behind him.

“Oh.” Draco claps a hand to his mouth, heart pounding when emerald eyes land on him.

“No, wait—” he calls, and Draco curses the way his entire body freezes.

“You don’t have to leave. Just— come and do your laundry. I’m almost done anyway.”

He can’t keep from chewing his cheek whilst loading the machine. And then his change won’t fit in the slot. And then the air, too humid and sweet and dizzying, starts to close in around him.

“Er, Malfoy—”

“Shut up.”

He can feel him staring, can imagine the self-righteous look, can hear the taunt in his voice.

“I just—”

“No.”

His eyes sting, his fists clench, and the stupid coin keeps hitting the steel slot.

“Please, can I—?”

“Just leave.”

He’s wailing and he knows it, but a moment later there’s a sigh and slow footsteps recede, and he finally takes a shaky breath.

On the next try, the coin clunks into the machine.

“You weren’t in so I signed for your parcel,” he says.

Scowling isn’t polite in these situations, but it’s all he can do right now.

“Th—thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he shrugs slightly. Draco fiddles with a bit of brown tape. “You can look at me, you know. I’m not going to burn your retinas with my ugliness.”

The forced lightness in his voice fails to hide a deeper ring of something, and it’s unmooring. He never used to play games like this, and it makes Draco’s hair stand on end.

“If that’s all…”

There's a beat, but then he sighs heavily. “Yeah, that’s all.”

“Hey, Malfoy, you’re okay.”

He’s not okay, how can he be okay? He can’t find his keys and he dropped his change and his coat is too old so rain’s dripping down his back and there were all these kids and where the fuck are his keys—

“Draco.”

He blinks, bright eyes suddenly there while warmth holds his elbows. Which appear to be shaking.

“I’ve got you, breathe with me, okay?”

He can barely swallow, let alone breathe, but he chases that voice regardless, the praise so kind his knees tremble and ungodly noises crawl up his throat.

“Better?”

Too much time has passed when he asks, and now too much tiredness weighs down each slower, steadier breath. Bronze hands still hold him gently, and he squirms at the wetness on his face.

“I— I have to go.”

His smile is tentative yet blinding, and his ‘Hey,’ is low and private, like they’re sharing a secret instead of passing on the stairs.

“I got your note.” He stops, so Draco has to stop too, right on the stain on the carpet. It looks like a hippo from this angle.

“You’re welcome, Draco.”

It sends shivers down his spine, hearing his name like that, and he sounds so real, so genuine, he can’t stop his eyes from flicking back to his. They’re just as dazzling as ever, and happier than should be humanly possible. He feels his cheeks heat.

“I want you to know, I’ll always help you if I can. So, if you need something, just—” he shrugs, “knock on my door.” Then, when Draco’s brow pinches, as it always does, “I mean it, Draco. I’m not going to make you move. You can trust me.”

And when his voice is so gentle, he really wants to believe him.

“Fuck, sorry.”

Footsteps run towards him as he bends to pick up the apple.

“Apparently one of my shopping bags broke, and, well, decided to attack my neighbours with fruit.”

“Maybe they’re trying to escape your horrendous hair.”

His bark of laughter covers Draco's choke at his reckless words, and Draco's stomach does a weird flippy thing at the sound.

“Maybe.” His grin could light up an entire city. “It’s either that or it’s trying to escape the crumble it’s destined for.”

Crumble. His mouth waters, and from the quirk of his lips, it’s far too obvious.

“You could come over for some, if you wanted?”

“Uh— I— I don’t— Um—”

He chuckles softly, and it shouldn’t sound fond.

“Just think about it,” he says, and there’s that soft, too-beautiful-to-be-real smile making his head spin again. “I’ll save you a bit.”

He swallows hard. “I'm returning your bowl.”

“I can see that,” he grins too easily, lounging against his door frame. “Did you enjoy it?”

Too much. “It was pleasantly surprising.”

The answering laugh curls his toes and flips his stomach. “I'm honoured to receive such high praise.”

“Don't get used to it.”

“Oh, no,” he smirks. “Of course not.”

Draco bites his lip as the silence extends, hands too empty, cheeks growing hot.

“I could make some tea, if you'd like?”

It's quieter than the other requests—more gentle. Devoid of all pressure but cushioned by tentative hope, and Draco begins to want.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, tongue too traitorous for his heart. But he gives a light huff, and through his lashes, Draco glimpses that sugar-sweet smile.

“Okay, not yet.” And it's a promise Draco knows he'll have to keep.

The bass drums through the walls, into his skull, and his fingers clench.

'Get some space. Take a break,' his head whispers. But outside is too dark, and his chest tightens.

'It's just a bad night. Just one party.’ He tells himself, trying to stay calm. Then fails when his thoughts run away from him.

His feet landing in his hall tell him he's moved, as do his shoes, now on his feet, and his jacket in his hand, but he can't tell how they got there. Someone knocks on the door before he reaches it.

“Sorry, I didn't want to startle you,” he says, hair wild enough for birds to nest in and just as cozy. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with— this.”

He doesn't mean to whimper, or sway on the spot, but another shriek of laughter lances through him and it's so loud it hurts.

“Obvolvere,” he murmurs, and then it's barely there, just a distant thud beneath his feet, and his eyes flutter closed.

“Thank you.”

He says it before he can think through the lingering buzz, but he can't summon the energy to care.

“It's nothing.” His molten emeralds shine only with concern, and for the first time in months, he feels cared for. “Get some sleep, Draco.”

“Wait—” He blinks, panic hissing at the threat of him leaving. “Um, would— would you like— t—tea?”

A slow smile warms him from the inside out.

“I'd love some.”

—

“You should sleep.”

He knows this. Knows from the way his eyes are heavy and itchy and weeping. Knows the disappointment at the idea of letting him leave, the fear of the noise—the gap between them—returning.

“You're one to talk.”

Potter snickers, and it's unfairly pretty. “I'm not the one falling asleep on his sofa.”

“Hmm.” It's all he can say, eyes drifting closed once again.

“C'mon,” he murmurs, and then there's a hand, solid but gentle, at his elbow. “Bed.”

He stumbles willingly into Potter's solid warmth and sighs. Safe.

“I won't come in,” Potter murmurs, chivalrous to the core. “Just wanted you to get some decent rest.”

“Will you—? Um, I mean, when will—? Can we—?” His brow hurts from wrinkling.

“Can I come see how you slept, tomorrow?”

He shivers at the care in his voice.

“Yes.”

He's always kept his word. Draco knows this—scorned him mercilessly for it in a previous life. Yet still his heart leaps, relieved, when Potter smiles at him as he opens his door.

“Hey,” Potter breathes, and butterflies, beautiful and wild, explode everywhere in Draco's chest.

“Hi.“

“A movie I wanted to watch just came out on video,” Potter says. “Want to watch it together?”

Draco barely knows what movies are. He nods immediately.

Potter’s too-bright smile is impossible not to return, Draco’s stomach jumping like the kernels of corn Potter shoves in the microwave. They smell almost as good as him.

“Okay,” Potter soon sits beside him, remote in one hand, bowl of popcorn in another. He flashes Draco another smile, a hint of nerves hiding in the dimples of his cheeks. “I hope you like it.”

He nods, knowing he won’t be able to focus on anything but the warmth coming from just centimeters away.

The buttery smell emanating from the bowl is too alluring, and after Potter’s crunched on a few mouthfuls, it seems socially appropriate to reach for some popcorn too. His fingers brush Potter’s. Electricity crackles on his skin.

“After you,” Potter murmurs, his smile as sweet as the kernels. Draco thinks kissing him would be even sweeter.

His mouth waters at the scent wafting from the oven, and he bites his nails.

The last three haven’t been right—too burned; too flat; too bland. But this one smells dangerously promising.

He still jumps when the timer dings, despite watching the final seconds tick down, and the heat of the oven takes his breath away. But these lemon cupcakes are golden, springy, and perfectly risen.

He flits from the sofa to read, to the radio, to the bathroom to clean whilst waiting for them to cool, then painstakingly slathers on the lemony icing. Once they’re arranged just so on a plate, he sucks in a deep breath, hesitantly walking up the corridor.

“I made cupcakes,” he blurts as soon as the door starts to open, Potter’s face not yet fully in view. Potter’s kind chuckle threatens his already shaky grip on the plate.

“I can see that. They look amazing.” Potter leans forward, inhaling deeply. Draco curses the heat rushing to his cheeks. “I could make some tea for us both, if you want?”

Heart rabbiting in his chest, he nods once. “Y-yes, please.”

Potter’s beam warms him down to his toes.

Cooler air teases at his cheeks, the first hues of autumn painting the leaves. He burrows further into his thick scarf, letting his eyes fall closed.

“You look so cozy,” Potter audibly smiles as scuffed his trainers crunch on the gravel path.

“Not everyone can be a walking radiator,” he snips, knowing the scarf doesn’t hide his smile at Potter’s chuckle.

“Well excuse me for having good circulation and a bit of meat on my bones.” A shoulder knocks into Draco’s, then stays much closer than before. He has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re not excused.”

Potter’s laugh seems to dance on the breeze, loud, and carefree, and infectious, and Draco wants to bottle the sound; to clutch it close and bask in it. Then the shoulder knocks into him again, and this time long, sure fingers hook around his gloved ones, halting the earth in its path.

“Hmm, what if we get a hot chocolate and a cinnamon bun?” Potter asks, low and private. “Would I be excused then?”

Tentatively intertwining his fingers with Potter’s, Draco forces his voice to stay steady.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”

“I should probably get going,” Harry frowns. “Apparently, I have to be up in the morning.”

“However will you cope?” Draco rolls his eyes, his heart sinking slightly all the same.

“Your kind words support me endlessly, did you know?”

Draco pokes his tongue out. Still, the warmth of Harry’s leg pressed against his disappears, and he rushes to stand too. To delay the inevitable. Harry just smiles, slots their fingers together. Squeezes tight.

“I’ll come round tomorrow? After 3?” he asks, standing in front of the open door but facing Draco, emerald eyes sparkling and kind and reassuring.

“After 3,” Draco nods. “And we’ll make pasta?”

“We will,” Harry promises. “I’ve already got the garlic bread.”

“Good.”

The seconds stretch into more, but his grasp on Harry’s hands never wavers, and neither does Harry’s smile. Then those emerald eyes flicker lower, to Draco’s lips, and Draco’s breath stutters.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco,” Harry murmurs again, lower this time, closer too. Draco’s vision clouds as Potter creeps into his space. Just close enough for soft, plush lips to brush against his.

Draco just stands, still as a statue, barely breathing.

He manages to gulp as Harry leans back, wanting to melt back against Harry’s lips.

“T-tomorrow.”

“Cuppa?” Harry asks over his book. His hair is mussed from lying down on the sofa. Draco wants to run his hands through it.

“Cuppa,” he says, stretching. “I’ll help.”

A hand finds his, warm and soft, guiding him up from his seat and safely into the kitchen. His grasp feels empty when Harry lets go and moves towards the kettle, but he turns to dig out some mugs anyway. Harry always came back.

There are teabags already plucked from the barrel and waiting when he turns around again, and a hand on the centre of his back tells him Harry’s reaching for a teaspoon, while he gets the milk.

“We make a good team,” Harry murmurs close to his ear, an arm snaking around his waist.

“Hmm. Maybe you’ve just been stalking me,” he whispers back, leaning into him.

“Always,” Harry grins, pressing his lips to his temple.

Warmth. Endless warmth is all he knows as he slowly floats into consciousness.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Harry’s sleep-husky voice rumbles in his ear.

“Mm,” he moans into Harry’s chest, purring when fingers stroke through his hair. “Too early.”

He grumbles when Harry snickers, jostling him unfairly, but then the arms holding him in place tighten around him, and maybe he can forgive the indiscretion.

“So I guess I’m not allowed to go to the toilet yet, either?” Harry asks. Draco wraps his legs more firmly around him.

“Message received,” Harry chuckles again, lips close enough to graze his forehead. Draco sighs approvingly when they stay there; a prolonged kiss.

Long seconds, minutes, or hours later, his hand finds Harry’s jaw, thumbing gently over the stubble that’s grown in, then leans up to capture Harry’s lips with his.

“I really like our room,” he murmurs.

Harry smiles against his lips, giving him another sweet kiss back.

“Me too.”

#autumnsnugglingwrites #my writing #drarry #draco x harry #harry x draco #hpdm #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #dmhp #harry potter #draco malfoy

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mishapen-dear · 6 months

Text

rough art tips to learn and then break at your leisure.

the distance between your eyes is roughly one eye. the corners of your mouth dont extend past the middle of each eye. ears are roughly in the middle of the tip of the nose and the eyebrow. the eyes are in the very centre of the head. the neck is just a Little slimmer than the width of the head (varies with fat distribution, but fat tends to build up under the chin). hair is easier to draw when you plot out the hairline and then where it parts. leaving appropriate distance on the side of the face (cheekbone area and back to ear) contributes to making characters look more realistic/hot as hell. i dont know specific tips for that so use reference. an amazing reference/study site is lineofaction.com . if you think of the face in planes it makes it easier to construct (look up tutorials). if you draw a spiral like a tornado it can help you figure out awkward perspective for extended limbs (look up foreshortening coil technique). tangent lines are when two lines intersect and cause visual confusion (when it looks like a line that defines an arm is part of the line that defines a building, for example) and avoiding them makes your art way easier to comprehend. quick trick to good composition: choose a focal point (where you want your viewer to focus), detail that area the most, and make sure various elements of the piece are pointing to that focal point. you can use colours to contrast hue, saturation, and brightness and make certain elements of your drawing stand out. drawing in greyscale can help you figure out values. using black in a piece isn't illegal but you should know what you're doing when you do use it- it desaturates a piece and if used as a shading colour can desaturate and dull whatever youre shading too. if you use almost-black lineart and then add black to darken the very darkest areas it will do a lot to add some nice depth. the tip of your thumb ends just above the start of your index finger- your thumb also has two knuckles and all your other fingers have three. if you see an artist doing something you like (the way they draw noses or eyes or hair or anything else) you can try to copy that and see if you want to incorporate it in your style <- this is ENCOURAGED and how a lot of us learned and developed our styles. there are ways to add wrinkles to faces and bodies without making the character look a million years old, you just have to keep experimenting with it. The smile wrinkles around your muzzle dont connect to your mouth or to your nose; there should be a small space in between smile or nose and the wrinkle line. eyes when viewed in profile are like < aka a little triangle shape. think of the pupil like a disk and apply foreshortening to it (it looks like a line when seen from the side instead of a full round dot). subtle gradients can add a LOT to a piece. texture can also add a LOT. look up Tommy Arnold's work (his murderbot pieces are some of my FAVOURITE) and zoom in. find those random little circles he added and try to figure out why he added them there. light bounces. there's lots of way light bounces. sometimes it even spreads through the skin. i do not know these light tricks yet but i want you to know that they exist. draw a circle to indicate hand placement, draw a straight line between that circle and the shoulder, and then (normally at a right angle) draw a straight line on top of that line to find the placement of the elbow. elbows are normally placed Just above the hip when standing and your arm is at rest. there are no bad colour combos if you're brave enough about it, just fuck with the saturation and brightness until it works. keep playing. try new things. add your own tips to this post if you want or even expand on some ive mentioned here. good luck go ham etc

#look at this post #the sum of almost all of my art knowledge #all that i can remember rn anyway lmaooo #shit i didn't mention the tips for backgrounds that i know #eh that's environment most of this deals with character work anyway #i learned most of this from tutorials and kind artists who like to talk about their work #i would not know NEARLY as much about creative shit as i do if it weren't for the people who were willing to talk about their skills #and their tricks and their observations. id be nothing without them i dont remember most of them but i am so so grateful for that kindness #so ig here ill spread that a little further #if you have any questions go ahead and ask i am a NERD about art okay i do not know everything but i am always willing to talk about what i #do know #art tips #one of the most important things for you to do as an experienced or beginner artist tho #is to PLAY #experiment #figure out what's fun and what looks nice and what looks nice faster and just. whatever the fuck you want to learn #it is SUCH a joy

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

Text

I've been thinking a lot about medieval longbowman Hob,,, and how a modern alternative might be gymbro Hob,,, the kind of gymbro who bulks and gets really strong and is just an absolute unit,,, and so i dug up this ole gym dreamling encounter from discord, and here we are!! The Hob I'm picturing here is an unholy amalgamation of comics!Hob in 1389, and Ferdie. So make of that what you will!

Fuckin' Resolutions

Dream is not the kind of person who makes New Year's resolutions. He's the kind of person who prefers to repeat his mistakes over and over and then yell at everyone who says “I told you so!” But. Dream is now in possession of a membership to his local gym, courtesy of his least favourite sibling. They obviously thought it would be a funny joke. Dream is out to prove them wrong.

And so, kitted out in a brand new pair of shorts (black) and a tank top (also black), as well as new trainers (you guessed it: black), he enters the gym. It is a new year. He can do new things. Maybe going to the gym will be the solution to the puzzling mess that is his life.

Naturally, Dream chooses the foyer area – what seems to be a writhing mass of people to his anxious eyes – in which to embarrass himself.

Scanning the various arrows pointing off in different directions, hoping that one of them might tell him where to go, he loses concentration. It really is quite overwhelming, with a myriad of classes, workout areas, lockers, and even a small snack bar. Dream looks around, wildly lost. And he walks right into something very warm, and very soft.

"Woah!" The warm and soft something says. "You okay there?"

Dream pulls himself backwards like he's been burned. In front of him stands a broad, smiling man, about the same height as himself. He's rather sweaty, and he smells… good.

Dream mumbles something about a yoga class that sounds nonsensical even to his own ears, but the man nods along seriously. He's entirely focused on Dream’s words, and he seems quite absentminded as he pulls the hem of his t-shirt up and uses it to wipe the sweat from his nose.

Dream’s mumbling trails off to a complete stop and he just gazes straight ahead. Hiding beneath the man's inconspicuous t-shirt was, apparently, the most gorgeous, soft, godly stomach. It bounces slightly once freed from the fabric. The rest of his torso is just as thick, and Dream even catches sight of his pecs peeking out. They're the kind of muscley-soft that should absolutely be illegal, if only for the sake of Dream’s sanity. And hairy, too. From his chest to the waistband of his shorts, thick body hair curls lovingly across his skin. It glistens faintly under the bright lighting, drops of sweat looking more like the golden highlights in a painting

The guy raises an eyebrow as Dream continues to stare. "Whoops! T-shirt kind of hides all that, right? Sometimes it's a surprise for me too!"

And what a wonderful surprise, Dream thinks. The guy is still giving him a free view of his belly, apparently unbothered by Dream’s gawping mouth. He can't stop looking at the little spills lovehandle over the waistband of the man's shorts. The man angles himself one way, then the other, like he's showing himself off. He even flexes his chest.

"I'm sorry." Dream stutters. "I think I may be having some kind of sexual awakening?"

The guy laughs – nearly making Dream faint outright as he watches the gentle shaking of his stomach. "You're very sweet. I really didn't mean to flash you like that." Tragically, he pulls the t-shirt down again. But he does offer Dream his hand in recompense.

"I'm Hob. Would it be okay if I show you the way to the yoga class?"

Dream nods dumbly. He isn't so much shaking Hob’s hand as he is holding it. The t-shirt tents over his belly, but the rest of him is still sturdily visible. Thickly muscular arms and thighs, wide shoulders, a warmly smiling mouth. Dream might as well have met Apollo the sun god himself in the middle of the gym. This man is certainly more magnificent than any classical figure.

"I'm Dream." He says, meekly. Hob has started walking, pulling him along by the hand. Dream takes one devastating glance at his arse (it's right in front of him!) and wonders hysterically whether his face is as bright red as it feels. He's never thought to describe another man's arse as pendulous before, but there's something hypnotic in the swaying motion created by all that soft flesh.

Hob turns and offers him another bright smile. "Yes, you are. Very dreamy." He allows Dream to come up right alongside him, and drops his voice to a theatrical whisper. "You know, cute boys at the gym don't usually look at me like that. Not unless they think I'm not looking, anyway."

Dream makes a disbelieving noise.

"I know! They don't know what they're missing. Once you come over to the dark side, you never go back." Hob continues, with a jaunty wink. And Dream feels the tips of his ears begin to sizzle. He must be bright red from head to toe, surely. He squeezes Hob’s hand (which he still, incomprehensibly, holding) in an attempt to convey his agreement. Hob, for whatever reason, squeezes back.

"Well, here we are. Yoga class is in there." They come to stop somewhere along a corridor. Dream hasn't been paying attention and has no idea how he'll find his way out of the building.

"Thank you." He manages, and clears his throat. "I am sorry. If my staring was in any way offensive."

Hob’s eyes twinkle and he plucks at the front of his t-shirt idly, pulling it up an inch or two. Dream gets a glimpse of soft lower belly for his troubles. "Not at all. Feel free to objectify me any time." He leans close, and bumps Dream gently with his hip. "In fact. I'll be very disappointed if you don't have at least three more sexual awakenings when you watch me doing downward dog."

And with that, he enters the yoga class, leaving Dream to stumble after him.

The yoga teacher is a very nice woman called Rachel, and there are at least a dozen people in the class. Dream actually feels quite comfortable hiding towards the back of them. Hob is a row in front of him, and he winks over his shoulder. He's absolutely divine to look at from behind – everything is taunt and muscular from his shoulders to his calves. Except for his arse, which carries a healthy load of fat. Dream has spent most of his life looking at men with lustful intent, but never has he seen a man like Hob. This is a man who could draw a longbow, or heft a battleaxe. He could scoop Dream over his shoulder and carry him like a bag of flour, should the need arise.

And, as it turns out, he is devastatingly flexible. It seems almost unfair. Somewhere along the line, Dream just finds himself staring, transfixed, as Hob contorts into pose after pose. His thighs flex, his shoulders remain steady as ever, and Dream gets another lovely little peep of those sweet lovehandles. After the class, Rachel praises Dream for knowing his limits and not pushing himself too hard. He doesn't have the heart to explain to her why he spent most of class standing with his mouth half open.

Hob is waiting by the door when Dream scurries away from the other class attendees, with his yoga mat strategically positioned in front of his crotch. He smirks, and once again pulls his t-shirt up to wipe his face. He's not even sweating, particularly.

Dream is sweating. A lot.

“I don't suppose you'd fancy a little post-workout drink? You can get a decent protein shake around here.” Hob quirks an eyebrow upwards. “Or I could just help you find the showers?”

“Showers.” Dream breathes out, clutching his mat tighter. “Please. I think you need to make up for the absolute mess you've made of me, this afternoon.”

Hob looks very pleased with himself indeed, and he wraps his arm around Dream’s waist. It's an intimate gesture that makes Dream throb from head to toe. “I may make a mess, but I always clean up after myself.” Hob murmurs.

Dream's hand brushes Hob’s arse is passing as they start walking… and he can really only hope that Hob is telling the truth about cleaning up. If only for the sake of his brand new shorts…

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #nsft #i havent posted anything like a fic for a bit so i hope this makes up for it!

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red1culous · 1 year

Text

Tonight, Tomorrow and Forever

A/N: I did not proofread this. If you find mistakes, you didn't.

“You know that if you keep frowning like that—” you trail off smirking at her as you point to your own forehead, “you’re going to give yourself permanent worry lines.”

Natasha looks up at you and her face softens a little. She huffs a little and removes the pen she had been nibbling on. Shaking her head she rubs her knuckles against her neck trying to massage the knots there.

You chuckle softly and approach her desk. Scrunching your face you take note of the state of her workstation. The table was covered with quite a confused mass of papers, heaped one upon another. Several cardboard boxes, usually crammed full of papers and files, stood on the table, open and empty. The confusion looks too formidable for one person to be dealing with and yet Natasha doesn’t seem the slightest bit phased by it all. She watches you with curiosity as you lift one of the empty boxes to shift it to the floor to make some space for yourself.

“How are you really doing…with all this?” you motion to the mess of papers as you lean your right hip against the table. You tilt your head and glance at her neat handwriting at the bottom of one of her notepads. It’s beautiful but at that particular angle, quite illegible.

She groans aloud and rubs her eyes. “I think if I stop I might actually explode.”

“And I think you might explode anyway if you don’t” you counter and she fixes you a hard glare. “Is there anything I can do to help?” you continue.

She shakes her head.

“Can I try?”

She considers for a moment before nodding.

You straighten up and take a comically deep breath. She smiles and shakes her head at your antics.

“What happened yesterday got me thinking that life is so short—” she cocks a dismissive eyebrow at you, “ah ah just hear me out,” you quickly shush her. “I think that we should put this on pause and go get dinner.”

“Y/N—”

“As a date. Say yes” you add and she genuinely smiles at you.

“Y/N, we discussed this—“ she puts up a fight but inwardly her rapidly shifting emotions flash like a malfunctioning traffic light.

You search her face for the appropriate words. “Ok if you have a problem with the word date then we can call it something else. What about two colleagues getting together after hours to enjoy some food together?” Your lips curl up into a smile. “And we could get to know each other better at the same time. How’s that sound like?”

Natasha tries to keep her emotions off her face. Trying not to smile back at you she asks, “and why would I need to get to know you better?”

Leaning in closer you whisper, “I’ll let you in on a little secret”. She hums in amusement as she mirrors you and moves forward in her chair. “I’m somewhat of a big deal, around here. You’d love to casually date me, I’m 100% certain” you say your eyes sparkling with mischief.

This time she doesn’t hold back. Her laughter is loud and full. She searches your face and is surprised with how much she wants to say yes to you. But how could she? Love was for children. Even entertaining the idea of love was foolish and went against everything she knew. It would prove to be a waste of everyone’s time.

But her protests seemed to die down the longer she looks at you. Her heart wanted to say yes. It was screaming at her to say yes.

You can feel her inner turmoil coming off her in waves. You genuinely smile at her. “Just say yes, Nat. I promise it’s just one date and it’ll be fun.”

She swallows hard, her heart pounding in her ears.

Silently, unable to say it aloud, she nods.

Your face lights up. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Fine. One date.” She seems to have found her voice. “Tonight. Dinner. Just to get our minds off this mess.”

#redfic #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #tonight tomorrow and forever

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