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#But smashing one in these games uh. No
masquenoire · 4 months
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Smash + Pass Robin?
Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.
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The sound of a violent clunk can be heard followed up by the muffled thud of a body hitting the floor. "Do I look like I'm into kids? What a dumb fuck you are." Roman said, his tone uncharacteristically playful compared to the words he'd just uttered. Getting back up to his feet, he raises the baseball bat - laced with rusted barbed wire - lining himself up for another blow. "One sec, missed a spot."
The second c̸l̴u̵n̵k̶ is squashier than the first.
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mikittalabs · 4 months
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i've watched like 45 minutes of palworld gameplay and i think i'm about ready to say i'm the #1 hater of some game i'm probably not going to think about after tomorrow
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patricia-taxxon · 3 months
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Attempting to extend sympathy to my younger self via self insert fiction.
"Hello there!"
I looked up from the lunchbox on my lap towards the source of the sudden loud voice, standing four or so feet away from me was a… dog? He stood on two legs, an eager look on his face. I looked around, none of the other kids were nearby.
"Hello?" I said back, a little confused.
"My name is Paul! What is your name?" The dog replied, both in an oddly formal tone of voice and… loudly, even though he was close enough to grab.
"My name's Bradley." I said, and went back to my PB&J.
"How old are you, Bradley?" asked Paul, in that same babyish but too-formal tone, almost like a robot.
"I'm eleven." I replied, without looking up.
"I'm ten!" He said back. "Nice to meet you!"
Several seconds passed, and he didn't move or look away. I realized he was waiting for me to say something.
"Nice to meet you too, Paul." His tail twitched as I said that, but he quickly moved his paw behind him to hold it in place until it settled. "Sorry," He said, before asking another question. "What do you like to do?"
His awkward storybook-speaking was offputting to me, but no one ever talked to me at recess, especially not completely out of nowhere like this. I answered his question, "I like playing Smash Bros," but I don't know why I thought of that first. I didn't really feel like finishing my lunch, I started to pack it away for later.
"What's that?" He said back. Was that a joke? He looked curious.
"Uh… it's a game, you can play as different Nintendo characters and fight each other." I waited for him to respond, but he was still listening. "You can uh… you can be Sonic."
"That's really cool!" He said. "Can I sit next to you?"
"Hm? Oh, okay, I guess." I replied. The dog's tail instantly sprung to life, and he once again moved his paw to stop it. "Sorry," he said, and moved swiftly to sit on the bench next to me, a bit closer than I thought he would. He looked up towards me like he wanted me to keep talking, or… it looked like he was looking at the top of my head, I wasn't sure.
Instead of explaining Smash Bros anymore, I asked a question myself to take the pressure off. "What do you like to play?" Paul blinked and his ears perked up. "I like Marble Blast Gold!" He almost yelped out, before drawing back. "But… shhh, don't tell anyone. I'm not supposed to talk about it."
That didn't make any sense. "Huh? What does that mean?" I asked.
"It's the best game ever, you like… you roll, and you have to… like, you have to get to the end. Uh." He stammered. "But I'm not… I'm not allowed to play it anymore, my teachers said I'm too obsessed."
"That's bullshit." I spat.
"Yeah!!" He yelled, leaping up onto his haunches, tail wagging up a storm, until he noticed again, and pressed his paw to stop it. "Sorry." he said.
"Why are you doing that?" I asked.
"Doing what?"
"Stopping your tail." I pointed to his butt. "Aren't you like… a dog, or something?"
Paul cocked his head like I asked him a really stupid question. "Yeah? Why." He said, carefully.
We stared at each other for another couple of seconds. I didn't know how to word my questions without sounding awkward. "I've met a lot of… dogs, and wagging tails is pretty normal." I felt insane saying it out loud.
"Well I'm special!" Paul beamed. "I can talk, I can stand on two legs!" He got up and stood upon the bench, barely reaching eye level with me. "I'm in a class for special dogs only." He bumped a fist on his chest.
"Oh… okay." I said, not really understanding. I guess the rules were different for dogs that talk. It felt weird watching him do that though, and saying sorry for it too. "Are special dogs… not supposed to wag?" I asked.
"Yeah. No wagging." He replied. "'Cus humans don't wag."
"But humans don't have tails in the first place." I looked behind myself to check. "So you don't actually know if humans would wag or not, right?" I was getting seriously weirded out by this conversation, but I just kinda kept going. "How'd you learn to talk, anyways?" I asked, Paul looked like he was processing what I said very slowly.
"Like I said, I'm special." Paul repeated. "I'm learning how to make it disappear, like everyone else. First I gotta learn how to keep it still, though, so the magic works."
"Magic?" I said back to him. I mean, it wasn't all that weird compared to meeting a talking dog, but the word still threw me off.
"Yeah, lookit!" The dog hopped off the bench, hunched over with his back facing me, and started screaming like he was about to go super saiyan. I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking at, I was too startled. I might have been imagining things, but I think I saw his tail slowly retracting into his body like a lazy snake.
"Paul! What the fuck are you doing??" I shouted, but instead of responding, Paul just… went silent and flopped onto his side. I quickly rushed over, yelling "Are you okay? What just happened?" I looked over his body, flat on the asphalt. His tail had grown all the way back and… his body shrunk. His head was halfway tucked into his shirt like a turtle. His paws barely poked out of his sleeves, pointing directly forward from his body. He didn't look like a kid anymore, he looked like a dog that someone stuffed into some kid's clothes.
After a second, I thought it wouldn't hurt to poke him. "Paul? Recess is almost over." I poked at his chest, and he rolled onto his back limply. I suddenly felt silly trying to talk to him, like I was trying to reason with a pet. I tried a different approach, I clapped my hands and rapped on my knees. "Hey! Up! Food!"
Paul's eyes shot open, and he sneezed, before wiggling his legs to right himself. He took an instant and a half to realize where he was, and he suddenly cowered, looking straight at me, shivering. "Hey, what's wrong?" I whispered. He looked side to side, back at his own doggish body, and back to me. He blinked, looking like he was about to run away.
"No, no, it's okay." I tried to be reassuring, I'd never had a dog before so I didn't really know what I was doing. I almost forgot that I'd just been talking about Smash Bros with him. "Uh… do you like granola bars?" His ears perked up, and his tail swayed, his new… anatomy making it hard to reach back and stop it this time. I grabbed my backpack from behind me and rummaged through it for leftovers, I got the other of the two bars inside the wrapper, the one I didn't eat, and held it out in front of me. Paul approached me slowly, his nose twitching. "Can you… eat this, even?" I asked, as he sniffed the crumbly rectangle. He licked it soon after, and started nibbling and snarfing after that. I watched carefully, scared to make any sudden moves.
Paul looked up at me again, and I noticed his eyes were a little different. More definition, like I could tell a little more what he was feeling. His new eyes looked concerned, like he was waiting for me to do something bad. He reached up with a paw, it was looking a bit more like a hand now. I let go, and he held the bar himself as he munched away, sitting plainly on his knees.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Maghic." The dog said through a full mouth.
"That was magic?" I replied. "I saw your tail shrink, I'm pretty sure."
Paul swallowed. "How much?"
I thought back, the image was still clear in my head. "Like… barely at all. A couple inches?"
"Aw…" He looked disappointed in himself.
We sat in silence for a bit, but there was a question I wanted to ask. "Why do you want to get rid of your tail? Like… that looked painful."
"Mrs. Millie said I can go to the regular class if I can turn human," the talking dog said, proudly.
"You're pretty bad at that." I chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his ears without thinking. Paul looked like he was about to take it personally, but suddenly lost his train of thought as my hand touched his head. "Bwuhhf…" He woofed under his breath, his tail twitched and his paws lost their thumbs again. I quickly pulled my hand back, "Sorry! I didn't…" Paul's eyes took a second to form together again, and he looked right at me, "That wasn't fair." he whined, but his tail was still wagging.
"You really are a dog!" I said, glancing sneakily behind him. Paul followed my gaze to his own tail, yelped, and quickly pressed it down with both paws.
"Oh, come on, stop it." I joked. "It's psyching me out, it looks like it hurts when you hold your tail in place like that."
Paul turned his head back at me. "It doesn't… hurt," he said, slowly and surely.
"Hm. Whatever you say." I got up and went back on the bench. After I turned around to sit down, Paul was already running towards me. I didn't have any time to think before he bounded into my lap and butted his head into my chest while his tail went crazy. The impact knocked the wind out of me, but he was pretty small, I got it back in just a second. Paul yipped and barked, maybe there were some normal words in there too, but I couldn't understand it. This is where I realized he wasn't a very special dog after all, I think he was just normal.
I scratched behind his head and stroked his back through those baggy clothes, and this time he didn't mind. He might have been crying, it was hard to tell, I didn't really know what dog crying looked like. Eventually, he settled down. I couldn't feel his shoulders anymore, he seemed in danger of falling out of his shorts if he wasn't careful. I had a dog in my lap, an extremely normal dog. He stretched his body up and rested his head on my shoulder. "I like you, Bradley." He said, a little too slowly, and a little too loudly. I didn't know what to say to that, he barely knew me. This was all very weird. "You're a good dog." I said back, just because it felt right.
I could feel Paul's body shaping up into a more human posture again as he regained composure. He let go, turned to the side, and sat down on the bench next to me again, staring at his paws in his lap. I leaned over, "You okay?" I asked. He didn't answer, he just put his paw on my wrist and started twirling the hair under my sleeve.
I quickly jerked my hand away and covered the hairy skin. "Don't look at that!" I snapped.
"You have fur too!" Paul yelled.
"No, no, that's hair. I'm just…" I didn't want to explain, it was too embarrassing. I looked like I had my dad's arms, I hoped that no one would see. "It's a condition."
"Oh. Okay." Paul stared into the distance again. We sat in silence for another couple awkward seconds before the bell rang.
"Bye, Bradley." the dog said, scampering off.
"Bye, Paul." I waved after him, being sure to hold my sleeve up with my other hand.
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angelsrcute · 1 month
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I’ve loved reading through your blog it’s so good!
Would love to request Idia edging his needy s/o with a sex machine while he’s gaming since they won’t leave him alone. They still get his d afterwards, how nice he is just depends on whether he won or lost 😈
DO NOT DISTURB. ౨ৎ
(´∀`*)ε` ) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Idia + Sub!gn!Reader ➜ cws: use of sex toy, degradation, rough sex, spanking (once), Idia accidentally leaves his mic on. ᡴꪫ‎
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Idia was a very busy man. Busy doing his dailies and playing games!! This man planned to not get out of his room today, it was the weekend and what other way to use it than playing games with his online buddy.
You rather were bored because you had nothing to do and thought of visiting your beloved boyfriend. (and maybe get him to touch grass.)
Now, here you were, your hands bound to the bedpost as you squirm around. The dildo pushing into your hole at a fast pace, stretching your insides. It's so damn close to hitting your good spot but Idia keeps on turning off the machine just when you're close. So mean.
A soft whine escapes your lips, all while idia plays on his pc, his mic on. You were teasing him too much, distracting him, ugh. You were sitting on his lap, your hands ghosting over his thighs, prepping light kisses on his neck. You definitely deserve this.
He proceeds to ignore you, talking so normally to his friend. Another loss, the game over screen mocking him. This dude is so frustrated that he could smash his keyboard.
The sex toy thrown on the floor as he fucks you stupid, legs thrown over his shoulders, his dick kissing your sweet spot everytime he thrusts.
“What? Didn't you want me to fuck you, huh? I am, so be a little grateful. I'm not stopping till you learn your lesson.”
Drool falling on the pillow, eyes hazy as you can't even say anything, only moans and whimpers escaping your mouth. One of his hands on your neck, blocking your oxygen supply. You swear you can see stars!
“It's too much? LOL, should've thought about it before disturbing me.”
His other hand keeps you in place. Tears forming at the corner of your eyes, hands clawing at the sheets. Your neck decorated with pretty hickeys given by him. He lands a harsh spank on you ass, making you yelp out his name.
“You're such a slut, liking this, Y/N..”
He presses a rough kiss against your lips, climaxing with a final thrust. His dick twitches as a grunt escapes him, filling you up with his cum. He falls on top of you, panting heavily.
“Oh uh, I'm sorry, I hope that didn't hurt too much, yeah?” He says as he feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Dude, this looks like a straight out of a hentai video!!
You both hear a message notification pop up on Idia's pc.
“Oh, you youngsters are so lively these days, also you forgot to turn off the mic! keke..” – Muscle Red. :3
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gnar-slabdash · 2 years
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I suddenly woke up stupid early on my day off with multiple weird random aches and pains and a revelation about the Leverage chess metaphors.
They’re all wrong.
Look, I obviously adore the white knight/black king motif, and it works really well for that very specific discussion of Nate’s shift in morality and position at the opening of the series. But the show as well as I and other fans have then tried to take that equation and apply it to other jobs and to the crew as a whole. This is fun and awesome, but I believe you’re going to get it wrong every time if you start from the white knight/black king line. 
Because in all other situations, Nate is not the king.
Couple important things about kings in chess: 1. They don’t move much. They can only move one space at a time, and for most of the game they stay in their own little box, well guarded by other pieces. This is because 2. When the king is checkmated (threatened with capture and no possible escape), it’s game over. There is no more hope. This is the sole requirement for losing the game. No matter who else is in play, if the king is down, you lose.
This is NOT how Nate operates. Yeah, he makes the plans, but he doesn’t just hide in the office while everybody else carries them out. He’s almost always right up in there playing the most obnoxious guy you’ve ever met or smashing windows or something. And if Nate gets captured, it’s not game over, in fact, it often isn’t even a PROBLEM. Let’s look at a few times that happens, just for fun: - In The King George Job, Nate’s getting beat up and Eliot slightly panics and is about to run to help, when Sophie says “NOPE, don’t do that, I can fix this without blowing our cover” and saunters in at her leisure. The jig isn’t up and she’s not even particularly concerned about him getting punched. I love it. - In the Maltese Falcon Job, Nate sacrifices himself to save the team. This is a classic thing to do in chess and chess metaphors, but, I cannot stress this enough, you cannot sacrifice your king. That’s just called LOSING. -In The Long Goodbye Job of course the whole con is structured around Nate getting caught. I guess this one kind of makes sense because the whole point is to look like they HAVE completely lost, but then at the end it appears that Nate’s going to secret prison and everyone else is escaping WITH the black book, so they STILL would be losing Nate but winning the job. 
So if Nate isn’t the king, who is?
Hardison.
Let’s look at our points about kings again:
1. Doesn’t move as far or as quickly: Yes, Hardison ALSO gets out there and participates in the cons, everybody does. But Hardison does stay in the background more often, because that’s where his power is. He does the behind the scenes tech stuff and the remote stuff, he can wreck your shop without showing up through the power of the internet. He also does the forgeries of identities and objects, which are also done in his own space. At the same time, he has less physical power and less range -- you don’t want him in a fistfight, or a gunfight, and his grifts are notorious for being a little. . . uh. . . interesting. So he has limited physical range and power but at the same time. . . .
2. The game is over if you lose him. That far-reaching behind the scenes power is absolutely vital for 90% of the jobs. He does the massive amounts of research and hacking legwork needed just to START a job, even before you get to actually completing the job. You are pretty much dead in the water without Hardison. But that’s just from a practical standpoint. Losing Hardison is also a crisis from an emotional standpoint. He’s our moral compass and our sweet baby brother and when Hardison gets in trouble there is no “well he’ll be fine for a few minutes” and no “well he kinda had it coming.” No, when Hardison is in trouble everything else grinds to a halt and everyone comes running. (See: The Experimental Job, The Grave Danger Job, The Long Goodbye Job.)
So like, yes Nate is in charge. But the king isn’t in charge on a chessboard, the king is just a piece with a very unique role, which Hardison fills much better than Nate does. So, now that we have our real king, who are our other pieces?
Queen: Parker. This has nothing to do with her dating Hardison. The thing about the queen is she can do a little bit of everything -- she can move in any direction, making her the most dangerous piece on the board. Parker’s whole character arc is about learning all the different roles and how to access the whole playing field. She’s the only one who plans and executes an entire episode-length job by herself (okay, with a little help from her girlfriend). Plus, the other cool thing about a queen is she has a built-in transformation story -- a pawn that crosses the board can become a queen, which Parker mimics by initially being dismissed as “the crazy one” and ultimately becoming the mastermind.
Knight: Sophie. I know, I wanted Eliot to be the horsie too, but this makes more sense. The knight’s deal is that it’s sneaky -- it’s the only piece that can turn corners -- and it can jump over obstacles. Sophie’s whole philosophy of grifting is that she shouldn’t need to know about safes or security systems, she should be able to bypass (jump over) all that by insinuating herself with the mark (being sneaky by playing a character to get behind enemy lines)
Rook: Eliot. This is the straightforward one -- it goes in a straight line. It also literally represents the castle walls. It’s also so, so fucking helpful to have around, I fucking hate losing my rooks. It’s your solid right hand man, basically. Is this a little reductive of Eliot? Absolutely, but I’m jamming five complex characters into five predetermined boxes, it’s not all gonna be nuanced. And I think Mr. Punchy would like being seen as the fortress that everybody depends on, and to let all the nuance go under the radar. That’s where he likes it. 
Bishop: Finally, here’s where Nate is hiding. While the rook can only go straight (lol), the bishop can only go diagonally. Nothing can be straightforward for the bishop, he always has to come at things from an angle. Like, you know, constantly looking at all the different angles of a situation and finding the right angle to come at a mark from. Also, the bishops sit right in the middle right next to the king and queen. I don’t know that this is historically accurate, but when my dad taught me to play he told me that was because the bishops were important councilors to the rulers, they were the ones who had important wisdom that would tell them the best plan of attack. So the king here isn’t necessarily the one making the plans -- that’s the bishop. And finally, apparently the bishop is called lots of different things in other languages, but we’re operating in English, which means it makes Nate a priest, and that makes me happy.
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fruit-sy · 1 month
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Kaycee's Mod: P03 Edition Comic + Ideas
l. The takeover
What if P03 got the OLD_DATA first instead of Leshy? That's basically the premise of this AU lol
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II. Intro
Kaycee is not impressed with P03's storytelling
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III. Skill Issue
I imagine Kaycee was mainly in charge of Grimora's and maybe partly Leshy's development, and while she was familiar with the other Scrybes' gameplay, she wasn't too good at playing them
May be lore inaccurate as ik Kaycee is a card gamer nerd, but even pros take Ls sometimes :p
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IV. Playing Favourites
Despite not knowing Leshy is also self aware, I like to think Kaycee would still smash from just knowing him from the base game lol.
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V. Broken Fight
Average unfinished boss fight
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This was Inspired by the "P03 in Kaycee's mod" mod 👀
I saw that they updated the mod a couple of months ago so I played it and I got dragged back to a mini Inscryption brainrot again lol- See, brainrots don't die, they lay dormant until they take over your life again asldkfjasdlf
Anyways, the mod's super fun and it consumed my life for a couple of days!! Also idk if they balanced the mod more or if I just got really lucky but I have more success in finishing runs compared to 2 yrs ago where it took abt a week for me to finish ONE run WITHOUT challenges;; regardless, I enjoyed the new additions to the mod :3
I made a post following this same swap AU idea almost 2 years ago, but I felt compelled to put a little bit more effort this time. I didn't take this too seriously so there may be some handwaving in regards to like, the canon because I have a headache trying to follow it too much lmao
but P03 and Kaycee are my faves, so im just having fun making this silly comic :^]
(I have a couple more pages sketched out but idk when I'll finish it. but uh, yeah, I'll probably have another post following this up sometime in the future in case anyone's wondering 👀)
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theminecraftbee · 1 month
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hi its aussie anon again! uh due to needing sleep i was unfortunately not conscious for quite a bit of the stream today. i do plan on binging a vod or supercut or smth, but what did i miss? thanks <3
sure, i can do my best!
joe hills starts streaming early and is the only pov that never stops the entire day, and is the last to finish streaming as well. he starts by logging in on hermitcraft and also hanging out with the in-person hermits, as well as showing us that they're setting up for hot ones.
people start streaming. most of them log onto hermitcraft, where they reveal a two hour donation incentive where, if you donate 50, they'll put your name on a sign on the server, and if you donate 200, that sign will be glowing and you'll have the whole sign for yourself. between that and a generous donor matching donations, the hermits basically IMMEDIATELY smash past 500k, and almost all the way to 600k. the hermits then scramble to keep up with the signs.
hot ones starts! zedaph, tango, impulse, skizz, grian, jimmy, and iskall are the starting contestants, and i recommend impulse, skizz, iskall, jimmy if he was streaming, or tango as povs for this if you want to see the whole thing. later, pearl tags in for grian and joe tags in for jimmy, both of whom end up giving up early. they are both impressively impervious to the spices, which is very funny as especially zedaph and iskall start dying on the spot.
the hermits get past 650k and all get new nerf guns, these ones like, the terrifying automatic rifle nerf guns you were jealous of the one kid that had, and start an all-out war. someone brings up that the event as a whole (not just the hermits but the entire LAN event) is about to hit one million, so zedaph suits up in "protective gear" and the hermits all murder him in a firing squad in celebration. joe's pov is really good for this (he gave us two angles!), as is scar's or tango's i think.
the hermits go back to placing signs, and scar reads donos and hypes up the auction items. scar's stream is probably best for the end of the auction, and he gives a really sweet and heartfelt speech after the end of it. the auction ends on a bang!
the hermits split off to now all play the zedlypmics! i can't tell you much of what happened for this, this is when i left to go take a walk/do pokemon go community day since i recently got back into that/feed my dog/prepare to road trip tomorrow. however it was the zedlympics, i'm sure it was fun! basically everyone joined in on that one.
finally, joe specifically split off at the very end to play some live physical tcg with pearl (and also hit each other with zedaph's milky boppers from yesterday). after a single game they both admit joe is exhausted, and joe ends the stream, sending us to raid one of his favorite pinball streamers who had, i kid you not, four viewers before the ~6k of us showed up. manu was stunned, and i hope everyone who stuck around enjoys that!
and in the end, we raised well over 800k for gamer's outreach, which is a WILD ACHIEVEMENT!
and... yep, that's the highlights! hopefully that gives you an idea of who you should and shouldn't watch! meanwhile, from yesterday, iskall has already put up a video from his pov of guess the build and bingo on his second channel, so i'd go ahead and suspect iskall's going to continue to put highlights there, for anyone waiting for highlights!
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talesofesther · 29 days
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until one of us caves
Rolan x Reader
Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.
A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.
Word count: 3k
Masterlist
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The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.
The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.
From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.
The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.
"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.
You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"
She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.
"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?
"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."
Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.
"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."
"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."
"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.
The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"Oh, I want to see that."
Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.
"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"
You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.
With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.
Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.
The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.
You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.
"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.
He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.
"You can go," he turned away again.
"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.
"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."
You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"
"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.
The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.
You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."
Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"
You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.
His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.
With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.
His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.
Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?
It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.
"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.
Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.
"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.
Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.
Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."
Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?
How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?
There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-
A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.
Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.
There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.
And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.
When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.
"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.
The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.
With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.
Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.
"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.
"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.
You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.
"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."
A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."
"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.
Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.
You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.
The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.
With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.
Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.
"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.
"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.
You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.
"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."
Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.
He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.
Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.
You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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Rolan’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us
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Text
Submission
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You're billionaire Lee Minho's "plaything", but tonight the tables have turned and he let's you dom him.
Approx word count: 3.4k
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WARNINGS: 18+ adult fanfic: NSFW // contains depictions of explicit sexual content // unsafe vagina sex // use of sex toys // light bandage // vaginal fingering // explicit language // nudity // light dom/sub // plaything kink // implied orgasm and ejaculation.
a/n: This story was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams but I'm in the process of moving some of them over here that fit the 'after dark' vibe.
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“Nu uh, Lee Minho. Don’t even think about fighting back. Tonight you are my plaything.” You pushed Minho to sit on the edge of the bed in the run down, seedy hotel room.
The man growled angrily. He hated being in this position. He was born a dom. He ALWAYS dommed. He gave the orders. He was in control.
“This is what you wanted, remember?” You spat into his ear and tugged at his sandy brown hair, pulling his head back hard to reveal his long, slender neck. Fuck, you loved seeing his neck exposed like that. The glow from the neon signs outside the window casting a glow against his skin that changed from blue to red to green.
You bit your lip and climbed onto his lap, and licked along the vein in his neck, tracing it up to his jaw, and then yanked his head back down so you could smash your mouth on his.
Minho met you with the same aggression and gripped your hips, digging his fingers in so hard you yelped.
“So you are going to be bad are you? Hmm?” you said, staring into his dark eyes.
You felt so alive and in control tonight. Normally you were the sub in this… arrangement? Yes, arrangement was the best way to describe this dynamic. You couldn’t call it a relationship because it was only about sex, and the rules were clear. You were billionaire Lee Minho’s “Plaything” for him to do as he pleased. It usually involved him taking care of you first, prepping you, getting you ready for what he had in store, then going absolutely feral on you. He had the perfect balance of tenderness and coldness and you were absolutely addicted.
You knew it was a dangerous game, for your heart, especially when you learned you were the only one. Minho was exclusive with you, and sometimes you wondered what that meant. There were nights you would lay awake and your mind would entertain the forbidden possibility of an actual relationship. You’d berated yourself for it, and reminded yourself of the reality of what this really was. Fucking. Secretly. You were his toy for him to fuck and use. And when he was ready, he was going to toss you aside like garbage.
But there was no way you could break this arrangement off. The sex was too exciting and too good. Minho knew what your body craved, what it could take, and he played with the edges of your limits. It was erotic, delicious, raw and sensual all at once.
But tonight Minho was your “plaything”. Your fuck toy to tease. Taunt. Use.
You were so excited when Minho texted you to meet at the hotel room tonight. You were especially excited when he said he wanted you in your leather corset and stockings “No panties” he’d instructed. This was the outfit he’d bought you so that you could dom him. You had waited weeks for him to finally give you permission to wear it, and you were going to make the most of it. You weren’t sure when you’d get the chance again.
You and Minho used this room every week. In fact, Minho purchased the room, like one would purchase and apartment.
“Do you like it?” he’d asked you when he showed you the first time in the middle of the day, a big grin on his face.
You had run your eyes over the peeling paint, the dirty carpet and flimsy windows. It was the most fucking seedy, nasty place you had ever been in. The view out the window was of equally rundown buildings, a nightclub, and most likely the offices of loan sharks.
It was foul. But it was perfect for what Minho had planned for you both. Even tonight, the ingrained pungent smell of cigarettes still permeated your nostrils, but you didn’t mind. You loved being in this room. Loved feeling dirty.
Minho never attempted to repaint, or make the place comfortable, except for the expensive bed in the middle of the room. The headboard he chose was made for being restrained with vertical wrought iron bars lined up between the end posts.
You planned to tie Minho to it tonight.
“If you’re going to bad, I’ll just stop.” You said bluntly. Minho whined. He never whined. It was usually you.
You slid off of his lap and retreated to the scruffy armchair in the corner of the room. He’d picked that up off the side of the road. Said it would add to the nastiness of the room. It was shit, and torn and smelt like god knows what.
“Strip.” You commanded.
You could see Minho was fighting an internal battle. His face contorted, his mouth pressed in a firm line. He wanted to argue, deny, fight back against you. But he also knew that he wouldn’t get to feel your mouth or pussy around his cock if he misbehaved.
You wondered if he was regretting agreeing to this.
But you were sure he’d be reminding himself of the bigger picture. He just needed to get through this first part. Humour you. Then he’d be able to get his chance to turn the tables and fucking tear up your pussy. You knew this too. It was a game, and in the end Minho will win.
You crossed your legs. You were wet, your bare pussy pressed against the worn out fabric, and you knew that you would be adding to the unidentifiable stains on the chair cushion.
“I said strip, Minho.” You repeated sternly.
The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk before standing up at the foot of the bed.
He glared at you, staring you down thinking it would intimidate you. Sometimes Minho would forget that you had the capability to play games with him.
Slowly his hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, and you licked your lips with anticipation as he discarded the expensive designer garment on the filthy carpet.
You inched your legs apart when his hand went to his belt. Your eyes didn’t leave his as he removed his trousers and boxers. Your mouth hung open in awe as you drank in the sight of a fully naked Lee Minho. A sigh escaped you and you swallowed hard.
He was perfect. Never in your entire life had you seen a man so effortlessly attractive. So perfectly proportioned. So fucking toned. So fucking strong.
You decided you were going to make him wait, torment him somewhat before you allowed him access to your body. You knew that’s what he wanted most in this moment. To devour you.
You threw a leg over each chair arm, exposing yourself to the man you wanted to torture. Minho raised an eyebrow as if to say “you bitch, you’re gonna pay for this”, while he watched your hand slide down between your legs to find your dripping centre and slipping two fingers easily inside yourself.
You moaned, closing your eyes. You knew this would make Minho angry. It turned you on. Your eyes slowly opened and you saw Minho standing there pathetically with his hand around his cock.
“Hands off, Minho.” You removed your glistening fingers and stood up “you know you’re not allowed to touch yourself.” You walked towards him stopping just centimetres in front of him. He could grab you and throw you on the bed if he really wanted to. “Does Minho need to be taught a lesson?” You say shoving your wet fingers into his mouth. “Hands off your dick, put them behind your back.” 
Minho groaned but did as you said. His eyes closed as he licked every last drop from your digits. He was so fucking sexy. You almost wanted him to take control and punish you right then.
“On the bed.” You whispered coldly.
Minho gave you one last long stare, his eyes darkening, a hint of a smirk appearing as he proceeded to look you up and down. He didn’t know you saw a glimmer of excitement in his expression. It made your stomach tighten in the way it did when you thought about Minho as more than a fuck buddy.
Wordlessly, Minho climbed up the bed, laying his head on the pillow. He waited and watched you as you picked up a large briefcase and climbed up to sit beside his legs. You noticed his fat, hard dick was leaking as it rested against his lower abdominals. So tasty, you thought. You pulled out the set of velvet ties that would normally be restraining you and proceeded to straddle Minho. He automatically began to jut his hips up desperately trying to make contact with your pussy, and his hands groped for your tits.
“MINHO!” you growled. “Fucking stop moving, or I’ll leave you here and go find someone else to fuck.”
Minho whined “I just need to feel you, kitten.” He whimpered painfully.
“You’ll feel me when I say you can. If I say you can.” Reminding him who was in control.
Minho grunted, but his protests died down quickly.
“Arms above your head, plaything.” You said, peeling his grip from you and securing it to the bed-frame. “Other hand.” Minho complied and you suddenly found yourself in a position you had never been in before. Minho helpless and bound to the bed.
He started to growl like a caged wild animal when you lifted off him and retreated to sit on the bed between his calves. He yanked at the restraints making the bed shake. His back arched up off the mattress. Sweat began to drip down his brow onto the side of his face, the neon glow hitting the droplets in the most divine way. “Fucking hell, come back.” He demanded. “Just fuck me already.”
Ignoring his protests you reached into the briefcase again. This time to choose your toy. There were two dildos to choose from. The first was obscenely massive. When Minho presented it to you for the first time, you thought he had lost his mind. It was literally twice as thick as Minho himself, and he was extremely well endowed. Your eyes had bulged wide, and it made Minho laugh. “You can take it. I know you can. I promise it’ll feel good”, he’d promised. He seemed to have a kink for seeing how wide he could stretch you. He’d often use it on you, mouth hung open as your pussy slowly stretched around it, taking it in, filling you up. Then after he was done he’d proceed to fuck you with his cock. Minho didn’t seem to feel inadequate or in the slightest bit fazed that he wasn’t able to stretch you as much as that dildo. “Can a dildo slap against the back of your legs when it thrusts into you? Can it pin you to the mattress, or the wall? Can it caress your tits, or ravish your mouth in kisses? Is it human? Does it care? Does it think you’re precious?” So no, he didn’t have any insecurities about that fat, obnoxious dildo.
Tonight you chose the second option. Slimline. Cheap. Barely any vibration power. Yes, if you came on this dildo it was bound to offend the man writhing on the bed.
You wrapped your fingers around the smaller toy and hooked a leg over each of Minho’s shins so that you were once again spread wide open, giving Minho full view of your pussy. The billionaire glared at you with dark eyes. 
You were so wet you didn’t require any extra lubrication, the dildo sliding into your vagina easily. You gasped airily as you began to fuck yourselves with the inanimate object. In front of Minho. Helpless, pathetic Minho. Well, he wasn’t completely helpless. If he wanted to he could use his strong legs to hurtle you on top of him. He was definitely holding back and letting you think you were in control.
You spread your legs a little wider, angling the dildo so that it would massage your g-spot. You moaned low and deep and your hips began to roll forward against it. You were feeling overheated in the leather corset and the perspiration made your skin glisten. You knew you looked sexy. You closed your eyes for a few moments relishing the feeling of bringing yourself pleasure whilst the man who is normally so in control can do nothing but watch.
“Fuck, gorgeous. Look at you.” He jeered. Your eyes flung open to meet Minho’s condescending eyes. “Your so fucking needy that even a flimsy little dildo is making you go dumb. Pathetic.”
You smirked at his attempt at belittling you. “Minho, darling,” you panted. Fuck your were close. “Don’t you think it’s you who looks pathetic?… That I don’t even need your cock to come?” You upped the pace as your desire built and the tension in your pelvis grew stronger.
“How does it make you feel Lee Minho… knowing that this shitty little dildo can take me over the edge?” You ran your gaze over him. His cock was desperately engorged and still leaking pre-cum on his stomach. His muscles tense and the veins in his forearms and neck strained.
“It’s driving me fucking crazy… You know it is” He hissed through clenched teeth. He looked at you with pure need. His eyes begging. His breathing laboured. A pained desperation on his face. This was the face that always made you come undone. It was the face that told you as much as he was a dom, or how much he loved playing games, he actually needed you.
You let out a pornographic moan as you took yourself to the stars, throwing your head back. The bulge of your breasts heaving as you floated back down to earth panting.
“Fuck… you don’t need me do you? All you need is your pretty fingers or some cheap ass toy, and your satisfied.” It wasn’t condescending or malicious. It was more like he was in awe. 
You withdrew the toy from yourself and crawled your way up to Minho, straddling him once again, hovering above him so that he still couldn’t feel you against him.
“Lick.” You whispered offering the dildo to his lips. He obliged, immediately opening his mouth and allowing you to force it deep into his throat. He gagged and his eyes began to water as you roughly fucked his mouth. 
“Come on baby, you should be able to take this… it’s not that big…” 
Minho growled and lifted his head to take more of the toy into his mouth, sucking and licking ferociously. 
“Good boy. You look like such a fucking slut for cock like this you know.” You praised removing the dildo. “So clean” you approved and tossed the toy to the side.
You leaned down to kiss him softly. Minho hummed as you deepened the kiss, and you finally slowly lowered yourself down onto his hips to grind against the length of his cock.
You slipped your tongue inside his mouth, tasting your own juices. You could feel his hips rolling rhythmically against you as your tongues gently caressed each other. You could feel your heart melting, a warmth spreading through your body. Why the fuck did this keep happening? Why did your heart have to get involved.
You pulled away from the kiss and searched Minho’s face, hoping his mean, cold, dark expression would snap you out of it. But that wasn’t the look he gave you. Instead he had soft, hooded eyes, a pink flush to his cheeks and and a look of fucking admiration on his face. His mouth even hung open like an idiot.
You leaned in to kiss him once more, then reached up to untie one of his hands.
That was a mistake.
In less than a second Minho had flipped you on your back, one hand still tied to the bed, his free hand pushing your leg up to your chest allowing him to ram his cock into you aggressively.
“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, teasing me like that.” He growled, slamming himself into you hard. “Neglecting my cock like that.” He withdrew almost the whole way out and hammered into you once more, causing you to cry out.
“Taking care of yourself and not me.” He grunted.
Minho gripped the wrought iron bar with his restrained hand, using it as leverage to thrust into you ferociously, each thrust seemingly harder and rougher than the last. You welcomed it though. This was how Minho liked to fuck. You knew that when he got a chance tonight he’d take it. You just didn’t know which of the chances would take. It felt thrilling having him own you like this. It was as if he had no self control and that he’d go mad if he didn’t get his release. He fucked you hard for at least ten minutes. You didn’t know how he hadn’t come yet. Maybe he was too focused on evening the score or teaching you a lesson.
He slammed in deep hitting your cervix, then paused so he could kiss you sloppily, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He reached up and untied his still restrained hand and brought it down to push the hair off your forehead. He swallowed hard as he gazed at you.
“Minho…” you whimpered.
“What is it little plaything?” he said softly. You didn’t know what you wanted to say. You just felt overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion that was coming over you.
“Wrap your arms around me.” He said “Hold me close.”
You felt confused by his request, but you found yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck as he laid flush on top of you. You could feel his entire torso against yours and the sudden increase in intimacy made you melt. You felt like hot liquid underneath him. Lee Minho could really do anything he wanted with you right now.
And it seemed he wanted to go slow, rolling his hips painfully slowly while his hands caressed your ass, the side of your body, even sliding up to cup your jaw while he made love to you with his tongue.
“Can we take this off?” he swallowed gesturing towards your corset. You nodded in response and Minho made quick work of removing it, still inside you, leaving you now only in your stay up stockings.
“Look at me, gorgeous.” He panted. You opened your eyes and watched the man above you as he continued to take you tenderly. “Is this okay?” he asked between long languid thrusts.
“It… it’s… so good.” You whispered. And it really was.
“Good. Because tonight proved to me just how much I fucking need you.” His eyes looked like they were tearing up. Surely not. It had to be from the strain of holding back his ejaculation, right?
“You saw me…. I can’t function without you. I fucking need you… I think about you the minute I wake up. ” He closed his eyes and a tear escaped, running down his face. He leaned back in to kiss you, perhaps to hide the fact he was getting emotional, and you tenderly kissed him back with as much care and love you could. You wanted him to feel safe enough to show you this vulnerable side of him.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in as close as possible, drawing a husky moan from the man making love to you. He nuzzled his face into your neck, sucking you skin delicately, marking you with damp tears. His body shivered like he had a fever.
“Oh, Minho.” You cried again. The sensations were overwhelming and confusing to you. But you didn’t want this to end. Your sweaty bodies slid together in the most beautiful way. His cock fucked you so carefully and deliciously, and his kisses were full of emotion. It was like he was trying to confess everything he felt for you in the way his lips connected to yours and the way he moved his body inside of you.
In that moment, nothing else existed. The pungent smell of the room, the neon lights, the sirens wailing by, all fell away as you both fell apart together.
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~ Minho ~
He was not supposed to care. He was definitely not supposed to fall in love with you, and he was absolutely not meant to show his feelings in front of you.
But he fucking couldn’t help it could he?
“Lee Minho. You fucking idiot.” He scolded himself. “Why the fuck did you cry in front of her?” He ran his hand through his hair.
“Why did you tell you can’t function without her? That you think about her the moment you wake up?”
You were meant to be his “Plaything”. Merely the person with who he could explore his sexual desires with. He knew you’d be up for it. And you were. You even liked playing games with him.
Minho was the dom and you the sub. But that night in his seedy one bedroom apartment reserved only for sex with you, the night he let you be dom him and he broke down and cried, he let slip his feelings.
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays
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skulla-rxcks · 8 months
Text
Wanna do you.
Paring: Bang Chan, Changbin x fem reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut
Warnings: cre4mpie, unprotected, bl0wj0bs, use of slut and wh0re, degrading
Day 4 of k-tober
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Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28
May have gotten carried away with this :p
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
Sometimes not enough controllers is a good thing..
“You could’ve just bought another controller on your way here if you want to play so badly.” I roll my eyes, my fingers mashing the buttons on my controller as I fight against Chan in smash. “But Chan didn’t have to! It’s YOUR house, YOUR console so YOU should’ve gotten one more for your ‘guest’!” Changbin whines. “..how about after this round we all do something together, and Binnie can choose, yeah?” Chan says, trying to keep the peace in the room.
I nod in response, sighing quietly. And once again the rooms filled with the sound of button mashing, Chan ended up winning this time around, I won earlier though. As I Exit the game I feel Changbin wrapping his hands around my chest, hugging me from behind. I Look at him, “what are you doing?” I whimper out, flustered at the sudden movement. “I’ve decided what we should do next.. wanna do you” he whispers placing a kiss on my neck, causing me to shiver.
Chan clears his throat loudly and we both look at him. “Mind if I join you guys?” Chan asks awkwardly, “It’ll feel weird watching if you uh, go through with it I mean..” Just as Chan finishes talking I’m pulled into my bedroom by Changbin, Chan following shortly after. “I’m taking her mouth.” Binnie mumbles as Chan pushes me against the bed.
“fine by me.. gonna fucking break you..” Chan says, pulling my panties and jeans off in one quick swipe. “Mmm so wet already.” He smirks, licking his lips before unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dick out, rubbing it against my folds. “C-Channie…” I moan, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into my already wet cunt. As I’m paying attention to the feeling Chans giving me I’m startled as Changbin violently thrusts into my mouth, making two dicks on both ends of my body, fucking my holes. “oh god.. what are good girl you are,such a good girl.. being little whore for us to use yeah? handling two cocks stuffing your slutty little holes..mmf so good” Chan chuckles, ripping my shirt open and spanking my tits. “Fuck.. her throat is so tight, it’s literally made for my dick.. ahh..” Changbin groans out.
I try to respond. but nothing comes out other than muffled moans. I can’t even speak due to how deep Binnie is in my throat. I buck my hips forward; trying to get more of Chan’s cock, wanting him deeper, no. I NEED him deeper. Changbins hand wraps around my neck, choking me slightly as he pushes himself deeper into my mouth. Tears begin streaming down my face, I’m filled with pain and pleasure, it’s a wonderful feeling.
“Binnie, pull out real quick. Gonna turn this slut over.” Changbin nods as he does what Chan says, not long after I’m turned over on my hands and knees; taking both of their dicks at once, again. Binnie takes his dick out of my mouth and slaps the side of my face with it playfully. “Oh..f-fuck..” I moan, vibrations flowing through my body as Chan picks up his speed.
“Fuck her harder Chan. Break her.” Changbin smirks before pushing his length back into my mouth. “Want me to cum in your mouth?” He asks. I nod in response, certain that I want my mouth to be used completely. I decide to clench my pussy around Chans cock; eager to hear him degrade me and treat me like a fucktoy, like he was doing with his words. “Fucking.. don’t do that. Don’t you fucking dare clench around me.. you whore.. I’ll spank you if you do that again, yeah?” He growls hotly, clearly annoyed by what I did. “P…please..” I manage to whine out as my throat is still getting violently fucked by Changbin’s cock.
“Slut.” Chan says, spanking my ass, hard. Not just once; a good 10 fucking times, making me whine in pain. “Oh, she likes getting roughed up, huh?” Binnie grins deviously. Grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it upwards, forcing himself deeper down my throat. “‘m gonna cum in your pretty little mouth..” he says, grabbing my head and holding it still as he fills my mouth with his seed. Some spills out and drips down my chin, getting onto my bedsheets, before pulling out of my mouth.
“Chan, switch places with me, I wanna fuck her pussy.” He says. “Let me fill her up first alright? I’m sure this little slut wants my cum. Don’t you, hm?” Chan asks, spanking me once again. “M-mhm yes..” I moan out. “Yes what? What do you want me to do baby girl?” “I want you to fill me like you own me..” I move my body back sightly. “Good girl.” Chan chuckles, I can just imagine the smirk on his face. “Fuck.” He sighs, I feel him finally climax filling me up real good, as he pulls out I can feel his warm cum dripping out of me.
“My turn to use your tight little hole now.” Changbin postions his dick at my entrance and pushes into me, making me gasp. He’s a little shorter than Chan but a bit wider instead. Causing me to whine at the stretch. Chan walks over and pushes into my mouth, pulling my hair way rougher than Binnie did.
“Shit.. her throat is good, you were right.. you gonna be a good girl, swallowing my cock while Binnie stuffs you full?” He smirks, beginning to thrust into my throat. “M-mhm” My eyes roll back, Chan is going way deeper in my mouth than Changbin was, I love it. I love the feeling of getting used by two of my friends at once, it’s pure bliss.
“You feel so good I’m gonna fill you up already… I bet Chan’s close too” Changbin groans, his thrusts getting more and more sloppy as he slowly fills me up with his cum.
“Damn right I am, f-fuck! Cumming!” He moans, pulling my hair harder as he fills my throat. Both of them pull out looking at the mess they’ve made of me. “Mm we really used her good..” Binnie giggles, looking at the mixture of both of their cum dripping down, out of my hole.
“I guess this makes up for not having a third controller, haha” Chan laughs softly.
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
okaaaaaaaaaaay i just the new dialogue prompts so prompt no. 1 with sirius but please feed us with a lovesick fool!sirius <33333
1.”Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”
.
Sirius Black loved to do anything that would piss his mother off and take her a step closer to an early grave. 
Whether it was proudly sitting amongst those who weren’t purebloods or part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or wearing his house colours with pride despite the stain it left on the Black name. Whether it was embracing muggle culture, or picking on every little fight he could when he stayed under her roof. 
Sirius liked to push her buttons. He liked to poke the bear and he liked watching that vein on her forehead look as though it was seconds away from exploding. In fact, it had been another one of her fancy dinners that he attended on a whim in hopes to find a way to piss her off. 
What Sirius hadn’t been expecting was to meet you. And what he certainly wasn’t expecting was to fall head over heels for the girl his mother would ship him off with before he could even blink. 
He had tried to fight his feelings for as long as he could. He reminded himself that you were probably a pureblood elitist like the others in that room, that you were a Slytherin and you probably turned your nose down at people who he considered his closest friends. 
But then he started noticing you around Hogwarts and quickly realised that wasn’t the case. And it became a quick—and borderline pathetic game—for Sirius to find any excuse to be near you, to be on your radar.
He made jokes whenever he knew you were in the room and eagerly sought out your reaction to see if you laughed. He would make funny comments in classes you shared together to see if you’d lift your head from your textbook to notice him. He would throw peas at you during dinner to see if you would turn around to find him in the chaos of the Great Hall. 
His most recent attempt wasn’t even meant to be anything grand. Just a simple question he made up so he would have an excuse to walk over to you during potions and talk to you. 
But then Snape had made a point of kicking his bookbag in Sirius’ path and the wizard didn’t have enough time to catch the movement before he was stumbling forward, crashing down on a table full of potion bottles that smashed around him.
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
Sirius blinked, the blaring lights above slowly being covered by your face as you stared down at him with a concerned expression, eyes glancing over him to make sure there were no physical injuries. 
There was a slightly bitter, citrus-like taste on his lips that he didn’t have a chance to question before he was blurting out the first thought that came to his head when he saw your face in his line of vision. 
“You are really pretty!”
You paused, glancing down at the boy with a slightly surprised expression. “What?”
“Like, genuinely one of the fittest witches I have ever seen in my life,” he kept going, unable to stop himself. “Maybe even the fittest.”
“Thank you?” you said, a little unsure by the bold statement. 
“I think you might actually be the girl of my dreams but you make me nervous to talk to you and I have never had that with a girl before,” he told you, his eyes widening a little at just how easily that confession slipped from his lips. 
Sirius quickly scrambled to sit up, not caring about his soaked uniform or the mess around him as he glanced down at the bottles smashed on the floor. His eyes landed on a certain label and he tried not to let out a string of curse words.
Of course out of all the potions he could have possibly accidentally consumed, it had to be a truth potion.
“You feeling okay there, Black?” you asked cautiously.
“I like the way you say my name!” Sirius blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth. “I—uh, pretend I didn’t say…anything that I just said in the last few minutes.”
However, to his surprise, you smiled and let out a small laugh. “Anything else you like?”
“You!” Sirius said confidently, though his face and ears burned as red as his house tie. “I…fuck. Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what? You’re pretty and smart and you make my heart feel funny.”
“I make your heart feel funny,” you repeated, sounding amused by his confession.
“Yeah, like a good funny,” Sirius continued even if his hands were clenched into fists at his side, nails digging into his sweaty palms. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”
You raised your brows. “Yeah?”
Sirius contemplated if a sinkhole swallowing him up would be too far-fetched to occur right now. “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t need a potion to tell you I wanna kiss you too, Black.”
His eyes widened. “You do?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think,” you told him with a grin. “But it’s cute.” 
Sirius grinned back at you. “So, if I asked you out on a date, you’d say yes?”
“Ask me, Black, and then you’ll see.”
.
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oh-stars · 3 months
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Recognition
Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask.
a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1257 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G
“What time will you be home?” Eddie asks, perched on the couch like a bird, elbows on his  knees and sitting on his heels, toes straining under his weight. He feels like a little gremlin, body needing a way to expel all the energy his boring day off built up while Steve’s been at work. 
Steve sighs and adjusts his tie in the mirror by the door. “If all goes well, eight?” 
Eddie groans and falls back, limbs flailing. “If they expect you to go to school after hours, they should at least pay you,” he says, face squished into the fabric. It’s miserable being on different schedules. He’s been working at the plant until the construction is done on his shop, which means weird hours and being completely off rhythm with Steve. He barely sees the man! 
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Steve huffs as he smooths down his shirt, walking towards him. He carefully bends over to kiss Eddie’s pouting lips, laughing at him. God, Eddie’s so glad this man is his. He’s too precious to let go. “I’d stay if I could,” Steve says softly. “You know I hate going to these things.” 
Eddie sighs, giving him a small smile as he touches up the few strands of Steve’s hair that were betrayed by his hairspray. “I know,” he says. “I could always come with you.” 
Steve shakes his head, cheeks pink. “Thank you, but you, uh, really don’t want to go to a boring PTA meeting. All they’re going to do is fight over which classroom should get the crayons.” 
“I’d go for you, Steve,” Eddie says. He sighs again and pushes Steve away. “Go so you can get back.” 
“I love you,” Steve says, stealing another kiss before he finally stands up. 
“Love you too,” Eddie says, smashing his face back into the couch. “I’ll be here, rotting away until you return, my sweet knight.” 
Steve shakes his head and grabs his wallet and keys off the coffee table. Then he’s gone, with the rumble of the Beemer and the faint sounds of David Bowie announcing his departure. 
Eddie lasts a whole three minutes before he’s shooting up off the couch and pacing around the living room as he thinks of something he could do to occupy his time. He’s done about as much housework as he could manage for the day, he doesn’t think he could practice anymore today or write at all with how depleted his creative juices feel, and he knows nothing good comes on TV on Tuesdays in early January. 
That’s how he ends up piddling about Steve’s desk. Steve keeps all his papers that need to be graded meticulously organized, with the ones that are fair game for anyone to grade (aka the ones with scoresheets) in the blue folder. On days where Eddie’s brain was too much, when he couldn’t even look at his guitar without feeling pain or pick up his pencil to be creative in any fashion, he needed something to do to get the excess brain energy out. Robin’s much the same way, so Steve started setting aside his pop quizzes and multiple choice tests in the blue folder for either of them to grade if they needed. Otherwise, he’d get to it eventually. It’s mindless enough to calm their brains, they feel good helping Steve, and it helps give Steve more time to focus on the essays and presentations that need more time to be graded. It’s a win win all the way around. 
The blue folder isn’t as full as normal, but there are a few worksheets Eddie can take care of for Steve. He reaches for the sticker book and the purple pen (Steve’s signature grading color) in the mug Wayne gave him that’s an apple with a little worm for a handle that he uses as a pencil cup. That’s when he sees the PTA flyer. It’s jam-packed with information and minutes from the last meeting, but in big, bold letters at the bottom of the flyer, Eddie reads:
Join us to honor this year’s Teacher of the Year, Mr. Steve Harrington, eighth grade English. 
Eddie puts down the blue folder, the pen, and the flyer. He’s still for exactly one minute before his body goes into flight or fight mode. Within ten minutes, he’s dressed in his nice date clothes and his hair is tamed back into a tight bun, threatening to snap the band. 
Time crunch or not, he drives like a bat out of hell. He has plenty of time to get to the school, they live close enough, but he needs to make a few stops first. All in all, he gets there right as the principal is starting the meeting. 
He tucks himself in a corner in the back, watching the whole thing patiently. The problem is, he can’t really see Steve. Eddie cranes his neck and bounces on his toes, trying to find a way to make it to one of the seats in the center of the auditorium, closer to the stage. 
His opening comes after the chorus does a performance, when the parents at the front scurry their students away before the meeting can continue. First off, rude, but it works in Eddie’s favor. Steve’s award is next and Eddie isn’t missing this. 
Eddie slips into the front row as the principal starts shifting gears, whispering to the vice principal as the crowd settles. 
She announces Steve to a polite applause, but that’s just not good enough for his Steve. 
His palms ache with how hard he’s clapping, just shy of letting out a loud ‘whoop’ – and he’d do it if it wasn’t for the pretty way Steve’s face and ears are pinkening up. Their eyes meet as Eddie beams. 
“Hi,” he mouths, trying so hard to not vibrate out of the seat. 
Steve’s smile softens as he gives a wave of appreciation to the crowd, eyes darting back to Eddie. As the principal sings Steve’s praise and when she hands over the microphone for Steve to say a few words, Steve’s eyes never leave Eddie’s. It isn’t until a few of his students get up to speak that Steve finally looks toward the speaker, his shy smile turning into one of pride. Eddie knows he could care less about the words themselves (it’ll be later tonight that Steve will have a crisis and finally let the kind words sink in, where he’ll cower into Eddie’s body and panic over how much these kids trust him), but rather seeing how brave his kids are for speaking to a crowd this big and doing it so well. 
The award is the last part of the meeting, so after another round of applause, everyone is dismissed. Eddie jumps up to meet Steve at the bottom of the stage. 
“You didn’t have to come,” Steve says as he jumps down. 
“I wanted to,” Eddie says. “I’m proud of you,” he adds as he bumps their shoulders together. 
“I’m just doing my job–”
“Stop,” Eddie says kindly, “you deserve this.” He grabs Steve’s hand and gently tugs him toward the exit. “C’mon, I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate.”
“What about my car?” 
“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”
Steve’s blush is even stronger up close, but he doesn’t fight Eddie. And it’s an absolute privilege to watch as Steve gets all shy again when Eddie presents him with flowers once they’re at the van, stammering his thanks as Eddie kisses his cheek swiftly. 
--
Ao3 Link
Thank you @lady-lostmind 💜
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delcakoo · 1 year
Note
OMGGG I CANT STOP THINKING ABT JOCK NIKI AND SHY TUTORRRR I NEED MOREEEEEE
WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THE MAKE OUT SESS IN THE LIBRARY I NEED ALL THE DEETS 😍😍
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part 1 lol
PAIRING ! jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader
WC ! 800ish
WARNINGS ! smooching and u and riki being so so cute
a/n: I DIDNT THINK ITD BE THAT EFFECTIVE ON ANYONE HELLO?? IM HONORED OK ENJOY !!
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niki pulls away from the kiss, chuckling proudly at the string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his. his right hand still rests on the back of your neck while the other grips the library table firmly. “and that one?” he inquires again.
you gulp, nervously glancing around the surrounding shelves of books. “it.. it was good..” as you mumble pathetically, you suddenly remember what you’re supposed to be doing. “..will you at least tell me what’s below the catella?”
he bursts into a disbelieving giggle, eyes crinkling into half-moons at your words. “all that and you’re still focused on tutoring me?” when you send him a warning glare (which he wasn’t phased by in the slightest), niki smirks. “the tibia.”
you nod, affirming that he was correct. “good job.” before he can do anything else, you swiftly stand to your feet and throw your belongings into your bag quicker and messier than you’ve ever done in your life. what made it all worse was that along with the piercing, hungry stare you could feel on your back the whole time, the taste of the boy was still fully on your tongue and lips.
“so thats it? gonna pack up and pretend nothing happened like last time?” he spits. you thought the jock was just playing with you — finding ways to make his ‘tutor sessions’ a bit more exciting — but you swear a hint of genuine frustration could be heard coating his sharp accusations.
you grit your teeth either way. “niki, this session ended ten minutes ago.”
tonguing the side of his cheek, he stands up himself while running strong fingers through his bangs. “and? fuck the session, i only care about you anyway.” you freeze. niki seems equally shocked, only realising his confession after another moment of silence passes.
“i..”
“look, i know your standards are too high for some fuck up like me so just- just pretend i didn’t say shit.”
it takes you a few blinks to process niki walking away, textbook and pencilcase tucked securely under his arm for you to hurrily chase after him. you pull the back of his navy hoodie with vigor, not taking another moment of hesitation before smashing your lips on his as soon as he stumbles around to face you.
he was the one to pull away first (which, for the record, had never happened before). “wh.. what- y/n?” niki questioningly stares down at you, a shimmer of hope reflecting in his pupils.
“i care about you too. i mean i- i think i like you, too,” you rush out.
his expression morphs instantly, a small beginning of a smirk forming as he leans against the nearest bookshelf. “i never said i liked you, did i?”
you frown, sending him a harsh glare. “niki.”
“sorry.” it was clear the male didn’t have much experience with such conversation judging by the way he scratched the nape of his neck, glancing off into space shyly. “so like.. i have a basketball game friday..”
“mhm..” you try not to laugh at his sudden change of attitude, edging him on with a nod.
“and if you wanna like- i don’t know, wearmyjerseyandcomewatchme or something.. i wouldn’t mind. and- and we can go eat somewhere after if you’re okay with taking the bus.”
you never imagined nishimura riki could be so cute, but somehow it brings butterflies to your stomach. “yeah, sure. that sounds good, text me the details?”
his eyes widen, mouth stammering as he takes in your response. "oh, uh- yeah, yeah i will.” pushing off the wall, niki only begins to walk away before he's quickly swivelling towards you again, rushing to plant a kiss on your forehead before taking off with promises of a text.
you nearly fail to miss the giddy smile on his face as he exits the library — not that you were any better with cheeks as red as your swollen lips.
one chance niki !!!!!!! ++ reblogs n comments r always appreciated if u enjoyed n want more pspsps
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cxndiedheart · 2 years
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His Golden Girl
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Billy Hargrove x Golden girl! Reader
Imagine big bad Billy Hargrove with a sweet lil’ thang <3
—————————
Billy Hargrove isn’t the nicest guy at Hawkins. From the moment he smashed his black boots onto the concrete of the school parking lot, everyone knew he’d be trouble. On Billy’s first day he had managed to make himself more enemies than he could count on one hand. Billy could be described confrontational, aggressive, but charming, and foxily sly. However, not a soul could describe him as kind.
On the other hand, Y/N L/N is the nicest girl in Hawkins. She’s outgoing, and bubbly, and unnecessarily kind. Within a week of transferring to Hawkins she had made plenty of friends, joined clubs, and even earned a spot on the Hawkins high varsity cheer squad. No one would ever imagine that a good girl like Y/N would look twice at a troublemaker like Billy.
Y/N and Billy stayed separated for a long time. That is, until Billy and she started to leave gym together. It was an odd sight, with Billy’s hair damp from a shower, sticking to his face with Y/N on his arm, looking as if she’d never broken a sweat.
Later, the strolls from gym turned into escorts to class, and then accompaniment to lunch, until finally Billy became Y/N ride to and from school. The change was gradual, but beside the two’s aesthetic differences, they were completely in sync.
Billy and Y/N were never officially an item, at least not to the rest of the school. But typically, they were both interrogated by friends about the matter.
One day… “Y/N!” One of the cheerleaders trudged up to Y/N, pushing through a crowd of students filing into school. “Y/N! Hey girl!” Y/N turned around, smiling. “Hey Macy!” She replied. “Listen, how did you manage to snag a boytoy like Billy?” She giggled. “Oh I uh—“ Y/N was interrupted by Billy, throwing a cigarette down and stomping it into the concrete. “Y/N. Come on, let’s go.” He didn’t say where they were going, he just held out his arm for her with a sly grin to her friend.
It’s clear that Billy doesn’t care about the other girls interested in him, but by the way Macy acts towards Y/N, there is clear indication that Macy took an interest in Billy. “What was that about?” Billy would ask often, usually after overhearing someone question Y/N about their relationship. “Macy really wants to know what’s going on between us..” She bit her lip, squeezing Billy’s bicep as they walked to first period. “Leave her wanting to know more, it’s none of her business.” He grunted.
Billy has a reputation to uphold, but he does tend to act differently than usual when it comes to Y/N. Boys began to take notice from his group, but he’d brush it off. “You’re whipped, man.” Tommy Hagan clapped Billy on the shoulder in the locker room, after Billy had taken his normal speedy shower so he could see Y/N quicker. “Yeah, but Y/N’s a Betty, who wouldn’t be whipped if they got a chance to be with all that!” Another boy commented, smacking Tommy with a wet towel. Billy tended to shake off whatever comments he got, everyone knew that Billy did want he wanted anyway.
Shortly after Y/N and Billy get close, Billy joins the basketball team! Which is great, because the cheer squad and the basketball team usually practiced in the gym together. More often than not however, Y/N tends to get a bit distracted..
Billy’s loudest supporter at basketball games is definitely Y/N! With pom poms waving and high kicks galore, she most definitely gives it her all when Billy is put in to play! But the support goes both ways, because as soon as Billy is benched (which isn’t often) he is sure to cheer her on, cockily announcing “that’s my girl!”
When Billy and Y/N finally made it official, they turned into THE power couple at school. Every guy wanted to be Billy, and every girl wanted to be Y/N. However, it was obvious that they were completely enamored with each other. Y/N is just the one who outwardly shows affection— which is evident by the pink lipstick prints Billy wears like a badge of honor on his cheeks.
Billy doesn’t enjoy it when other guys hit on his girl though, and he’s one to cause a scene. But Y/N being as sweet as she is always tries her best to talk him him down, and it usually works <3 Billy could be in the middle of beating a guy half to death, but as soon as “Billy..” leaves his love’s sweet tender lips, he’s up and shaking hands.
Overall, big and bad Billy Hargrove and his golden girl are the cutest <3 <3
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kinopio-writes · 3 months
Text
Ask: A one-shot with Vox and a Fem!Reader who is an Overlord that deemed a less high position but kept being her chaotic neutral self nonetheless. She and the Vees were playing a game and she won in the worst way possible. (tried to remember all the things @matrixbearer2024 told me so, uh, sorry if this wasn’t what you meant)
A/N: I accidentally posted this completely unfinished and deleted it as soon as possible so I lost the request. Vox is one of the harder characters to write because most of the time he’s on screen, he’s shitting on Alastor. Hopefully he gets more developed in season 2. I used his controlled and controlling characteristics a lot here.
Um, this turned out neither platonic nor romantic. I was focused on establishing their dynamic here, so this might turn into a series. Enjoy! I liked how the story turned out to be (although the pacing might be rough).
Words: 1,569 (edited)
Warnings: Valentino (he’s not acting like how he does around Angel, mostly because Vel’s your friend and you’re not a worker in his studio)
———
Vox x Fem Overlord!Reader who had taken the backseat
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The doors to his office slid open, allowing the bright light from the other room to pour into his TV-adorned space. The light blocked him from seeing the other side of the screens, and the suit-clad demon sitting on his swivel chair jerked back from whatever he was paying close attention to, bringing him back to reality.
“Um, Sir?” A nasally voice piped up from the light.
His boss quietly groaned in irritation, not bothering to turn around to look at him. “What is it?”
“We have a problem.” Of course, there was. Ever since that old prick suddenly came back, things have been not going well for him. Well, it was mostly because he let that piece of shit get to him. “We’ve been receiving numerous complaints about our new voyeur scopes.”
Vox merely waved a dismissive hand, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “That happens all the time. If the protests persist, get someone to start on a new draft.”
His assistant left right after, and as Vox heard the doors close, he let out a heavy sigh, deciding to change the setting of his screens to watch over his district.
“Let’s see what the fuss is all about, shall we?”
•••
You had smashed another one of the flying drones.
You’d been doing that for quite a while, settling that as your first order in business after letting someone take over your district for you, granting you more freedom. There wasn’t much thought in the decision. You had just grown tired of being a leader and gaining more power. You liked being laid-back, but it wasn’t as if you’d settle on the retirement (after)life. Now that would be just plain boring.
VoxTek Enterprises was a brand you were familiar with. Not as a customer, but as a friend to someone who was close to the man behind the title: Vox.
You didn’t have anything against the guy—Vox was a charming fellow when you first met him. When he approached you, you were happy to disclose any questions he had, although you noticed that his left eye started to swirl as you spoke. It went back to normal quickly, however, so you went back to your usual talking pace. He ended the conversation briefly after that, and you were approached by more overlords during that event. (heavily edited this paragraph)
Now, you were hanging out with two of the three Vees. Velvette immediately invited you to chat about your new position after she heard while Valentino was lying on the other couch beside yours, on his phone.
She pried for an answer as to why you’d done what you did. When you gave her the direct answer of simply getting tired of it, she changed the topic to new fashion trends. You agreed to be her temporary model for her newest drafts, and Val piped in if you wanted a photo shoot for a magazine for an entirely different cause. Vel swatted his head away, rejecting his offer for you.
When the chatter had slowed down to silence, you explored around the spacious room as the others scrolled through their phone. You managed to find a video game that was unsurprisingly made by VoxTek. It was quite an old product, but it looked interesting enough, so you called out to the other overlords in the room if they wanted to play. They agreed.
•••
Vox’s eye twitched, snarling as he watched you get all buddy-buddy with Valentino and Velvette. And playing his game, no less? The fucking disrespect!
Initially, Vox liked you the moment he laid his eyes on you. That was one of the reasons why he made conversation with you, even if he had non-amicable intentions. You also had been gaining more power at the time and the other stronger overlords noticed, including him. He speculated on your potential to grow more influential and wanted to be acquainted with you for future use. However, you were instantly on his watchlist when he realized he couldn’t hypnotize you.
During the conversation you two had, he managed to get you to tell him how you got into your position, which didn’t even need much prying. You didn’t like business and politics, you hated forethought, and you didn’t even know there was such a thing as a hierarchy in Hell—you thought everyone just did their thing and be their worst, which was just fucking stupid.
You were reckless, an oversharer, unprofessional, passive, and unpredictable. In other words, you were an uncontrollable freak who had too much power. He didn’t understand how you were still alive.
Vox felt threatened when you made friends with Velvette before she even joined the Vees. He knew he couldn’t convince her to stop being in contact with you, so every time you two hung out, he would watch you two closely from his monitors. So far, he managed to keep you as far away from him as possible.
Until now. You were literally in the same building he was in. You were closer to him than you’ve been in years.
Velvette’s voicemail echoed throughout his office. She wasn’t answering any of his calls.
He cursed out loud. What a pain. It seemed he had to deal with you himself.
•••
“Val! What the fuck are you doing in last place?”
You three were playing Mario Kart (Wii), or at least, the rip-off version of it. It was still pretty decent, though. You all decided that doing all thirty-two races would be a fun way to pass the time until the Vees had to do their separate things.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? The buttons don’t do shit!”
“Use the rocket (Bullet Bill), shithead! Press the arrow key!”
“What the fuck is an arrow key—! Oh, there we go. I’m in second place! Ha! Eat shit, Princess Bitch!”
“Valentino! You blind ass, you’re blocking the screen!”
“I’m winning!”
“Taking my first place, you fucking won’t!”
You ignored their bickering and used two out of your three red shells to hit Rosalina and Toadette, a shit-eating grin on your face as you won first place.
A series of shouts and yells followed right after.
“Wait, what the fuck!”
“Who did that!”
“I did.” The two Vees turned their heads from the screen to see you comfortably lying upside down on the couch, legs hanging on the headrest.
Velvette’s shoulders relaxed. Valentino, on the other hand, flipped…the table. The TV was disconnected from its wires.
“What the—Valentino!” Velvette watched him stomp his way out of the room. “Valentino, where are you going? You better not be thinking about—…”
Velvette’s words fell silent as they both got farther from the room.
You placed the remote on the couch and finally sat upright, examining the space around you as chaos erupted from downstairs. It didn’t seem like they were coming back soon.
Hmm. Now you had the room all to yourself.
•••
You were busy rearranging the snacks and mixing their places into different cupboards when the double doors burst off their hinges and harshly hit the wall. You snapped your head to the entrance to catch a glimpse of a TV head before the doors closed back on themselves.
You snorted, going back to messing with Valentino’s stuff.
A moment of silence passed, and you stopped snooping around to check if Vox was still there, leaning down as you opened one of the two doors slightly. You saw his hands form into fists in front of you, and you immediately stood back to your height with a grin.
“The man himself!” You took a step away and opened both doors entirely, lifting your arms as a gesture of welcome even though he owned the place, and that irked him. “You know, Val and Vel and I played a game. You should’ve joined—”
“I know.”
“Oh, then the two are downstairs causing chaos.” You skipped over to the couch and sat on the headrest, falling back on the seat as you kicked your legs. “Usually that would be my thing, but—”
“I know.”
“And sorry for breaking those drones of yours. It was just—” you curled in yourself as you grabbed at your hands, “—in front of me, y’know—?”
“I know.”
“Wow, you know a lot.” He didn’t know if you meant that sarcastically or not. And that alone pissed him off further. “I’m assuming you also know that I stopped being an overlord?” You heard static in his direction.
“You…stopped being an overlord? No one just…stops being one.”
“Ooh, worded that wrong, huh?” You lifted your upper half to see the TV head still standing in the same spot. “I’m still technically one, I suppose, but I’m more, like, second in command? I’m just letting someone take over for me. The overlord life was too restricting, y’know?”
No, he didn’t know.
“Anyway, good talk.” You raised your legs and pushed them forward to stand up, making your way over to him. “I think I had an appointment with the guy who’s taking over. Thank Vel and Val for letting me hang out here. Actually, maybe go apologize to Val for me; I rearranged his cupboards.”
You patted his shoulder as you walked past. “See you soon, Vox!”
The man in question had his mouth slightly parted, his eyes still glued inside the room.
Shit. He was going to see you a lot often now, wasn’t he?
Fuck his life.
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beneathashadytree · 3 months
Text
MESSING AROUND - JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA X READER
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Warnings : just two teens being in love and all over each other, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : puppy love n fluff <3
Word count : 1.1K words
Additional notes : This came to me in a dream. Love the idea of teenagers being sneaky and lazy teehee
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Masterlist
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They tiredly rubbed at their eyes. What was this, the tenth, or the hundredth time at this? In all cases, it felt like it was a never-ending cycle that they were doomed to stay in.
“Josuke, would it really kill you to study for an hour straight?” Nudging the textbook on the coffee table, they tried to bring his attention back to the long-forgotten syllabus. “We’ve got a quiz in 3 days.”
“Still plenty of time, if you ask me,” he shrugged, not looking away from the television screen where he was trying to beat his high score (again) in one of his video games. “That’s a whole, uh, 72 hours.”
“If you hesitated while doing simple math, then I fear how you’ll face a few calculus problems.” Rolling their eyes, they sidled up to his back. “Come on. Didn’t Miss Tomoko threaten to smash the console if you don’t get at least a B+? With the looks of things, we’ll be lucky if you pass at all.”
Still without looking at them, he scowled. “First off, thanks for your obvious belief in me.” He could be petty when he wanted to, and this seemed like one of the times he wanted to pout and get snarky. “Second of all, she wouldn’t.”
At that, they arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Did you forget that time she threw the television out of the window to keep her word when you flunked that history test?”
A few moments of silence, save for the sound effects coming from his game, and the furious tapping of buttons. “Alright, maybe she will. But still, we have a lot of time to go through the material.”
“Three days. Half of one you’ve already wasted, mind you.” They sighed, carefully wrapping their arms around his midsection and snuggling up to his broad back. A cheap trick, yes, but how else would they grab his attention without outright snatching the controller from his hands? “C’mon, Josuke. Miss Tomoko asked me to come over while she was out for this reason. I don’t wanna let her down, y’know?”
Josuke audibly swallowed, and they had to hold back a smug laugh. They had him right where they wanted him. “H-hey, who are you dating, me or my mom?”
They snorted, teasingly squeezing his waist. “My supposed-boyfriend’s got me right with him, and he’s been practically ignoring me for two hours. I’d say the answer’s currently neither of you.”
Instantly, the controller flew all across the room, landing somewhere unknown as his character on the screen crashed into explosives and died. Bingo, they wickedly thought to themself as Josuke finally turned around in their arms, his handsome face blocking out the ‘GAME OVER!’ flashing behind him.
Heavy eyebrows furrowed and lower lip jutted in a subconscious pout, he leaned in, caging them against the back of the sofa with his arms. “Dirty move.”
“You fell for it, though.” Grinning, they hooked their arms around his neck, tugging him a little closer. “Can’t believe I had to fight for your attention this long.”
“It slipped my mind that we’re finally alone,” he moaned pitifully, nudging their nose with his. “Next time I get distracted from you, punch me in the balls.” At the sinister look he saw in their eyes, he pulled back for a second, alarm on his face. “On second thought, I take that back. Don’t.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Cocking their head to the side, they toyed with a few loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was so rare to see his hair anything other than immaculately styled, so the rare chances that they got to touch the soft strands were deeply cherished—by the both of them, it seemed, if the current redness of Josuke’s cheeks was anything to go by. “Or would you rather I keep my hands on you?”
Their boyfriend buried his face in their neck, partially out of embarrassment, and partially out of a desire to press achingly gentle kisses against their exposed skin. “Mm, I don’t know,” he mumbled, “So long as you’re not too rough with me, I’d prefer that, yeah.”
“Oh? So you like to be treated gently, big guy?” Their voice came out a little breathy as he lightly nipped at that one spot on their neck, and they hoped that it wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had them weak in his arms. Just a little more…
More kisses rained down on them, trailing up to their jaw and sucking at the skin there, just lightly enough to tease them without leaving a mark. A sigh escaped their lips, and their hands trailed down his back, gripping at his yellow tank top in hopes of regaining their sanity. Strong arms embraced them tightly, and arched their back into him.
“Yeah, so what?” he mumbled against the corner of their lips. “Got a problem with that?”
At the very last second before their lips met, they turned their face to the other side and pulled away. “Actually, I do. Because we’re not doing anything at all until you finish studying chapters one through four.”
Groaning, Josuke made to reach out for them as they slipped from his embrace and began to walk off. “Babe, you can’t be serious—“
“I am,” they coolly said, as if they hadn’t been seconds away from pulling him ontop of them. “Would you like me to call your mom and tell her you’re fooling around instead of getting your shit done?”
He shuddered, visibly recoiling at the thought and slumping back in place. “Don’t. She’ll probably put a ban on you ever visiting me when she’s out.”
Still a little shaken up and their nerves slightly tattered by the onslaught of intimacy, they hurried to his room, calling out behind them in a sing-song voice. “Well, these calculus problems aren’t gonna solve themselves!”
Collapsing onto his bed, they muffled a laugh as they heard him swearing and slamming his heavy notebook open, grumbling under his breath the entire time. In the meantime, they curled up into his freshly-made sheets and snuggled their head into his fluffy pillow.
“It smells like him,” they whispered to themself, their face flushed as they squeezed the pillow a little. Somehow, having their boyfriend’s familiar scent surrounding them from everywhere warmed them up to their fingertips, and sent their heart racing in their ribcage. “Wish he’d hurry up and join me before Miss Tomoko gets home…”
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