#I wish my style wasn’t so fucking specific
Note
NSFW request please! Could we get Miguel cockwarming his Spider!fem!S/O while they’re both still in their spider costumes? He couldn’t help it with how great she looked fighting some bad guys!
miguel o’hara x spider!fem! reader
ANON THIS IS SO SEXY. THE SPIDERSUIT IS ALWAYS AN A+ PLUS FOR ANYBODY WEARING IT, LIKE LOOK AT MIGUEL’S ASS LMAO. but anyways, cockwarming, hehe, i love you anon. <3 i added a lil sexual frustration into the mix ; ) cuz i felt like that would be so miguel lolz.
nsfw under the cut
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for as long as he had known you, miguel never had once experience this more intense feeling that he ever felt following the years you two had been together. you were spider-woman, as of many others but you were his spider-woman what mattered. and jesus, he thinks, as he stares at you with this embarrassing bloom inside of his mask whilst you’re swinging and kicking some couple of brutes causing havoc around nueva york. eyes strained solely on you as he merely grips his opponent’s neck tighter, not noticing how he was choking the poor man. the only question in his mind arousing as he tries to shake it off.
why did you have to wear that suit today?
he gulps, watching how you flex your each move as your ass kind of jiggled when you jumped. the tight-skin spider suit you were wearing made it worse as he feels the blood rush down to his trousers— or tights per-say. it was the suit he made specifically for you, similar to his color palette but overall suited your previous style perfectly. and he can’t help it, you just… just looked so fucking good kicking ass when your tits and ass are hugged tightly by your spidey-suit. he lets out a shaky sigh, still gripping the man’s neck not until someone interrupts his oogling.
“ahem! miguel? we got a couple of more coming in! maybe ogle later?” lyla flashes immediately in front of his face, he doesn’t notice the smirk right away from his assistant’s face as he focuses back on the mission, still glancing at you with sudden frustrating feeling clawing at the back of his neck and his crotch. he dodges an incoming bullet as it slightly grazes his shoulder making him wince, annoyed he got lost on focus.
“i know!” miguel grits his teeth as lyla disappears. he gazes hard on you as you suddenly felt your spidey-senses tingle as you glance at miguel, who merely glares again making you wave innocently at him in greeting as you bashed some thug’s head to the ground.
what was with him? you think, a little confused. huh.
•••
there was something definitely going on with him.
“you feel now what you’re doing to me, huh? speak, my love.” he whispers harshly against your ear, both of his arms wrapped around your waist as your body arches when he sinks you deeper on his cock. you gasp out, your mask thrown somewhere, discarded as the bottom piece of your suit was pushed down to your ankles while your top stayed on you uncomfortably. he was a menace when the two of you got back, immediately dragging you with his attitude to meet him in his lab for a ‘briefing’ for the next mission across the multiverse he says… but nope.
this. this certainly wasn’t you were expecting for a briefing. being tortured and cockwarmed for how many minutes you can’t remember since he fucked an orgasm into you roughly a while ago. his spent cum still nestling in you, painting your tight walls and his still hard cock inside you as well. he looked absolutely wrecked and pent-up when he murmured something about you in his suit that he made when he roughly groped your ass when he got his hands on you alone. you weren’t complaining! just that you wished he’d moved right now feeling the tip of his cock hit your cervix making you squirm again uncontrollably.
“miguel, please, it’s—“ you pleaded, moaning as he cups your breasts, massaging them with his big hands as you leaned your head on his big shoulder, whining loudly “‘is not fair.”
“not fair, hermosa? what wasn’t fair was you looking too good in this fucking suit.” he says with a chuckle, kissing your neck, nipping it lightly, fangs grazing your skin as you felt yourself shiver at the feeling of danger on your neck. you moved your hips a little, desperate for the movement of his cock thrusting into you but miguel was relentless. his way of punishing you when you literally think you didn’t do anything wrong! not his fault he couldn’t keep his dick calm around you.
“mhm, nu-uh, mamí. be a good girl for me and warm my cock up.” he slaps your thighs in warning sending shockwaves to your core along with your favorite nickname he has for you. gripping the meat of your thighs harshly as he chuckles when you swear at him with your cock-drunken mind. the feel of his cum in you, making you feel sticky and satiated at the same time was driving you nuts when his huge prick is filling you up to the brim, you can’t help it anymore, you need him.
“miguel, fuck you.” you whine again as he kisses your cheek. you can’t help but grin as you wiggle your hips again as you clench around him to tease him a bit to see what he’ll do. miguel smirks, grabbing your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he sets a final warning for you and your brattiness with a promise of a good fuck later. just that he wants to savor this moment a lil longer when he finally rips your suit to pieces that he can always make one for you after this.
“stay still or you’ll regret it.”
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listen, i wouldn’t mind my cause of 💀 be miguel’s cock— 😽🤭 ALSO MIGUEL CALLING US MAMÍ HAD ME ON MY KNEES RN *pats my shoulder* <3
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara smut#oscar isaac#across the spiderverse#across the spider verse spoilers#fnhrlcllnwrites#eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡
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Also yeah this new Hazbin cast is not it man. I’m sorry. Most of them either sound flat, don’t fit with the character design, or are just not as good as the original. Angel and Alastor I especially don’t like, Alastor sounds so nasally and Amari just can’t top Bosco’s performance, with Bosco not only was he good but when Alastor was threatening, he SOUNDED threatening. I may have made fun of Al’s design, but Bosco’s voice is what made the character interesting and threatening for me. With Amari’s voice he just sounds beyond silly and I can’t take him seriously.
Blake Roman is literally just intimidating Kovach, except this time Angel just sounds forced and awkward. It makes you wonder why Viv just didn’t get Kovach back since it’s obvious she wanted to find someone so similar to him, and then you realize…oh yeah, Kovach wasn’t on Broadway or is a big singer. Micheal was really good at what he did as Angel too as everyone has already said so Viv fumbled the bag SO hard with these two it’s sad. I’m especially pissed about Alastor cause Bosco was the reason he was my favorite character and now he sounds so cringe.
Husk and Vox are played by two very talented actors/singers but their voices just don’t fit with the character design, though I’m not that against Christain Borle as Vox, the voice doesn’t fit the twink design but at the very least they got a man who sounds like a full grown adult playing a full grown adult lmao. Husk is a different story however, because it feels like Keith was picked to play him just because he was famous and nothing else. Back in the pilot, Viv had a specific voice in mind for Husk and she found it, aka Mick. He perfectly came off as an old washed up grumpy alcoholic, and Keith’s voice kinda just…erases all that personality. Sure Keith’s voice sounds cool but that’s it, it’s style over substance.
I wish I could say more about Charlie and Vaggie but I’m not sure what to say other then they kinda sound forced and awkward too, and I hate saying that cause they’re also played by two very talented actresses. Stephanie B played Mirabel from Encanto, she’s had voice acting experience before so I hope she ends up sounding good in the actual show. Erika meanwhile…I hate to say this but other than her singing voice there’s nothing really special about her as Charlie compared to Jill Harris, though even with Jill I never felt any strong feelings towards her performance.
Adam meanwhile, dear GOD I was right about him looking bad in animation form, his design sucks so fucking much. Fans were right, that’s Alex Brightman’s voice, he seems to be using his normal voice but just a tad deeper. He’s the only one who’s a fine choice, though I really wish we got to hear him as Pentious here!
But yeah in terms of the voice cast I’m just disappointed man, really disappointed. It makes you really realize how talented the pilot cast was. They were so good cause they were all chosen for a reason that wasn’t just “they’re famous” and it fucking sucks how bad Viv fumbled everything.
#vivziepop critical#spindlehorse critical#anti vivziepop#Hazbin hotel#hazbin critical#hazbin criticism
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hobie brown dating a mall goth hcs
hobie brown x mall goth!reader
request?: yes
request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can’t wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it’s rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”
requested by: anon
warnings: language, mentions of stealing
a/n: this request made me cackle. mall goths are so iconic lol thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy.
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- OH MY GOD LMAO
- side note i wanted to be a mall goth so bad when i was like 13 lmao
- just launder outside of a hot topic with all my black hot topic merch on
- they shoulda paid mall goths for advertising man lemme just say
- but let’s get into it
- when he first met you
- admittedly he thought you were a poser
- but when he got to know you
- he understood that you were part of a subculture within a subculture
- you weren’t a poser
- you were exactly what you said you were
- and he respected it
- and he respected you
- okay so he wouldn’t hate all of your music
- most of it?
- yes
- he did not enjoy listening to quite a bit
- but omg every time he wasn’t immediately put off by a song
- you add it to your LISTEN AROUND HOBIE playlist
- his only rule when it comes to listening to your music is NO M*RILYN M*NSON
- and if you don’t know what that means
- good, you don’t need to
- wish i didn’t
- but he will always
- and i mean always
- sit and listen to whatever you wanna show him
- he’ll never outwardly say a song sucks to you
- only that it isn’t his style of music
- of course, sometimes you ask him to explain further
- just so you know what songs to play and not play for him
- “Why don’t you like it?”
“Just not my style, love.”
“You always say that. What about this song don’t you like? I won’t be upset, I just am curious.”
“Fine, with this specific song i ‘ate the lyrics. Too… emo? I guess? Not in the mood to be sad about m’sef.”
- he just loves seeing you vibing to your songs
- so he isn’t really gonna shit on you for liking any of it
- that’s what they want him to do
- he isn’t gonna >:(
- in fact
- he can, will, and has gone to shows with you
- it’s not his music and he can acknowledge that
- but again
- you like it
- and he loves watching you be happy
- something he actually does very heavily fuck with about your mall goth ways
- is your clothes
- he could do without the various band merch
- mainly because he doesn’t like the bands all that much
- but the rest of it?
- he actually likes
- he enjoys that you do have some splashes of color in your style every now and again
- and that there are loud patterns clashing with each other sometimes
- he can also really appreciate all the spikes and studs and chains on your clothes, too
- he also likes that he knows exactly what to get you as gifts
- does he buy the shit you talk about?
- absolutely not
- steal it?
- now you’re onto something
- he’s gotten you like 7 Jack Skellington plushies
- all different
- and each time you love them
- and sometimes
- sometimes
- he will even go hang out at the mall with you
- but it’s not often
- he’s usually too preoccupied with the Spider-Man gig
- or his shows
- but sometimes he likes to surprise you
- and show up when you’re with your friends
- but yeah
- he overall doesn’t like the music, necessarily
- but he also doesn’t give a fuck about labels
- you can call yourself whatever you want
- he likes you as a person
- and that’s all that matters to him
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#hobie brown hcs#hobie brown headcanons#spiderpunk headcanons#spiderverse headcanons#hobie brown#spiderpunk#spiderverse
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Tuned Out
Oh gosh it's been uh. Almost a month since I've written something??? Well, I hope you enjoy this one! I loved the idea of a sick L/uc/ifer spiraling, and being broken out of it by A/la/stor's radio show because I'm weak to the idea-- though it can be interpreted as both platonic and Ra//di//o//A//pple.
And here's a quick heads-up: Though this is still the usual fluffy fic, the spiral paragraph itself is a bit rough. So I'm going to put a trigger warning below and in the summary when I add this fic to the list. If intrusive thoughts and vague thoughts of self-harm are too much, please skip the italicized second paragraph. You can still read the fic without needing to include this part, so don't feel ANY pressure to do so if you aren't/will never be ready. Please, pleeeassseee take care of yourselves!
Otherwise, enjoy!
TW: Intrusive thoughts, vague thoughts of self-harm
---
Burning. His skin felt like it was burning him alive. That was the only sensation Lucifer could feel. His tired eyes stared up at the canopy of his bed, face glowing softly with fever. Its flush spread gold across the embedded pearls above, making them sparkle like stars. He sighed, crackling sparks floating from his lips as thoughts poked and prodded at his overheated mind.
Fuck. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? Can’t move, can’t get up, can’t get a glass of water, eat dinner, call Charlie– call. Charlie? Oh, poor Charlie. She must be so disappointed in him. He chuckled weakly, What would she even say to him that she hasn’t already thought? He could imagine it. He really could. ‘Seriously, Lucifer?! I literally meant nothing to you for years and now suddenly you waltz into my life? And instead of actually spending time with me, you’re calling from a room that could’ve gone to someone who truly needed it, ordering me to wait on you hand and foot like I’m your butler? Like our entire relationship meant nothing? You threw me away, and now you’re going to do it again?! You know what? You deserve this! You deserve to rot in your bed! Get as starving and sick as you want! At least now the inside will match the outside! You’re terrible! I hate you! No. No, you know what? I wish you got your second shot at Heaven. I wish you had at least a week of laughter, fun, and fucking fireworks so they could tear off your wings andyoucanFallalloveragai–’
A burst of static pierced the air, shattering the constricting spiral just before it could break him again– and replaced it with a new form of dread.
“Why hello there all you wayward sinners! Welcome once again to tonight’s show with your host: The Radio Demon!”
“Uuugh!” Lucifer groaned dramatically, snatching one of his many pillows to press over his head.
Right. The stupid fucking radio. From under the shadows, the sickly demon couldn't help but glare daggers at the piece of junk resting on his nightstand. Alastor had requested those old, outdated mortal inventions for every hotel room– specifically from the 1920’s era because apparently he preferred style and substance. Whatever that meant.
Regardless. He insisted that it was needed for announcements, communication, and entertainment. In other words– somewhere, somehow, Alastor was currently studying him and him alone with invisible eyes. Surgically scanning him at the seams for the slightest rip. The slightest tear. As if his prey wasn't the most powerful being here. Dramatic bastard.
“And how are you doing this fine evening, Your Majesty?” The radio sung.
“Go away.” The lump of fluff grumbled.
"Of course not! It is my duty as your hotelier to take note of every little detail of my building, no matter how tiny and insignificant. And I am ever-so-glad I have! It is quite the rare sight to watch our King of Hell lose face to a simple case of the sniffles. Truly a headline for the ages!"
An angry red blush painted over the king’s golden cheeks, immediately pushing himself upright. Towering wings puffed, pillows and blankets tossed about the bed as he went. "Now see here! Sinners get sick. Overlords get sick. Hell, Charlie and Lilith can get sick! Me? I’m just rehhh…Snff! Ugh, resti'g…"
"Resting. Of course. I suppose I will believe you for convenience’s sake--"
"Hhheh…! Het'shiew!"
"--oh! Bless you."
"Het'shhhiew!"
"Bless y--"
"Hep'shhhh! 'Etshhh! 'Tshhh! 'Tshhh-'tshh-'tch! ...HhhhehhHH...! HEH'TSSHHHIEW!"
"My goodness, bless! You sound absolutely miserable. Shall I fetch you a glass of water? Or another blanket, perhaps?"
"Nhhh– no." Lucifer protested between hitching breaths, conjuring a handkerchief with the flick of the wrist, "N-no thahhh...hhhah! Hhhh...”
He finally lowered the cloth when the tickle finally fizzled out, heaving a sigh of relief. “Ndo thadk you. Snff!" He took a deep breath before letting loose a mucky blow into the fabric, "It's fine. I'm fine."
A pause. "Ah."
"What? What is it now?"
"Oh nothing, nothing! I’ll let you get back to your rest. But before I go, could I mention one more thing?”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s just. Well, I had my first impressions, but I assumed that the King of Hell wouldn't be so cowardly."
"Cowardly?!" Lucifer repeated incredulously, spitting a plume of smoke.
"I see your hearing is as sharp as your wit."
"I'll show you cowardly you…y-you…hhh-!" The demon’s nose twitched desperately, and he cursed between hitching gasps as it tried again and again to just get. The damned itch. Out.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that."
"You…you self-important…hehhh…p-pompous…!"
"How flattering of you to notice my worth! And would you believe it? You're absolutely right! I am the fundraiser for this humble project, after all. The guide for these poor, misguided souls. Ones such as yourself."
"Oh, please! We both know you’re...you're no behhh...better than…hhhH–!" Lucifer's handkerchief raised to his face.
"Trying to use your infamous silver tongue through a sneeze? My word! Charlie had told me you were stubborn. But this?"
"Eshhh! Et'SCHHH! HEH'ETSCHH'HHHIEW!" He quickly twisted his head away to let loose a breath of flame, barely singeing the well-abused cloth.
"Poor, poor Lucifer Morningstar.” Alastor teased, his voice as soft and careful as a snake in the grass. The smattering of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, circling the bed. “Always choosing your own heavenly guilt over the needs of everyone else."
"HEH'ESCHH'HHHIU! Hehh! Hhh…hghh…"
"Which is a shame, considering the ill resident who requires attention. Trapped in their own feverish mind. Alone while their partner is away. Unable to move or think or even ask for help properly. But I’m sure you wouldn’t know how it feels for them, considering how indestructible you are."
"...There is?" Lucifer finally croaked, cringing to himself at another gurgling nose blow.
"Of course! While you were hiding in your room with your wings tucked between your legs, I'm afraid you've missed someone very important. Someone close to you."
Lucifer froze. He didn't mean.
"Mmm. Let's see." As the radio host thought stubby knobs spun on their own, playing flickers of songs diluted by time. "Rosy cheeks. Blonde hair. Red eyes that sparkle so damn brightly one could go blind."
Oh no.
"Puffy bow tie. Black fingernails."
Did. Did he get his little girl sick? Please, please don't let that be the case.
"The most spell-binding singing voice."
He thought back to breakfast. How Charlie had eaten less than normal. How she sniffled once or twice at the table. Wait, did her face look pale? Maybe the light didn’t catch it?
A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.
"Wh-where is she-- they, um! That. Resident right now?"
"Oh, performing the usual suffering patient routine. Lying in bed. Being miserable. Quite adament about sleeping the bug off. Reminds me of the ol’ picture books that star wealthy socialites and their sickly Victorian children. The ones who die due to their parents' neglect and mistreatment."
"I could help her." The fallen angel mumbled anxiously as he pushed himself upright. "I could help her right– …now..."
The second he dared to stand he nearly fainted, stumbling dizzily to grab the bedpost for support. From beneath a small string of black tentacles sprouted from the ground, nudging him back into place and under the covers as The Radio Demon tutted disapprovingly.
"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can't partake in the complex act of resting, then what good are you to our dear, sweet Charlie?"
"Shut. Up." Lucifer hissed, "I am a grown adult--"
"--debatable--"
"--and I choose what to do with my free time! And it's my jo-- koff koff! j-job to help my daughter when she needs it!" A shaky finger waved at all six radios. Or were there seven?
"To be quite honest Sire, I would prefer to do my tasks without your meddling. Actually, I would prefer not to perceive your existence at all, thank you very much. Unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless you'd rather call her yourself. But I know you won't." A mocking tone laced with static, “You c̴̨̮͊o̶̗̤̿ẇ̷̙á̴̼̖ȑ̶͉̕d̶̙͚͗̕.”
“I– wh–” Lucifer laughed in sheer disbelief, snatching up his phone. “Y-you’re– you’re joking, right? I’m not some– some godforsaken hermit!"
"Then by all means, prove it."
"I am!"
“I’m waiting."
"Oh, I’ll do it! I’ll do such a good call. It’ll be the– snff! goodest caller you’ve ever seen.” The King of Hell pouted like a child as he moved his claws.
“Ugh. Lord knows how he’ll act if he gets worse.” The radio mumbled quietly.
“Whassat?”
“My apologies, Your Majesty! I forgot that your company as of late are less of the civilized and more the rubber duck variety.”
"Of all the– if you weren't stuck to Charlie like a parasite I would take the sharpest end of my tail and shove it up your--"
Click!
"Dad?" A voice croaked.
"Charlie!" Lucifer's venom turned saccharine sweet, flipping on a dime. "Hey! Hi! H-how are ya, sweetie?"
"Mmrgh...what time is it?"
"It's. Um. Evening…time? Look, that doesn't matter right now. Are you feeling alright, kiddo?"
"Am I feeling alright?" His patient echoed sleepily.
"Yeah! I uh. IIIII just wanted to check in. See if you were okay."
"Oh. Um, I'm okay." A bit of rustling and a pause. "Are you okay?"
"Snff! Me?"
"Yes, you! You looked so tired at breakfast this morning, a-and you didn’t eat anything which never happens! And you were kinda glowing? It kinda seemed bad but I didn’t want to ask because maybe it was a personal thing and– wait, your voice is…are you crying?!" Rustling turned into the shuffle of pacing slippers.
"What? No! Nonononono! I just--" Lucifer froze, feeling another itch start to build, handkerchief nowhere to be found under the sea of fabric. "Jhhh-just excuse mbe for– snff! For a seggond. Keebp t-talki’g…!"
He quickly pressed his hand against the speaker, stifling into his shoulder until the scratchy wool felt damp. "Hh'ntt! Hh’ngk! Hhh’TCH! ‘TCH! Hhhhh...HT'CHNXT'hiew! Guhh..."
"Sure. A-anyway, you called me pretty early in the morning and after all that and this. Soooo…is there anything I can do to help?"
Desperate claws scrambled to craft a new handkerchief and wipe his streaming face. "N-no! No, no-- snff! absolutely not! Worry about yourself Char-Char, I'm fi--....f-fihh...!"
Hang up, pinch your nose shut, do anything but--
"HET'SHHH'HIEW!" Lucifer doubled over.
–sneeze.
"Oh geez, that sounded terrible!” Charlie gasped, “Is that why you've been in your room all day? Are you sick?"
A sudden, very obvious realization hit him. Silently the fallen king sunk into his mattress, wishing he could be swallowed by his comforter. His cheeks burned. The familiar description. The taunting.
“Can I. Call you back, Stardust?”
“What? Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re not finished here–” With a final monotone beep, the call ended.
"You.” Lucifer clenched his fangs.
“Yes?” Alastor hummed non-chalantly.
“YOU.”
“Gracious! No need to shout. Even The Devil Himself should know that a sickly patient musn’t raise his voice, lest it get worse than it already is!”
“Watch your back, bellhop. Next time I see you, no ring of Hell will compare to what I-- koff! I’ll–" The threat died with a wheeze, breaking into another ill-timed fit.
"And that's all for tonight, folks!" The radio suddenly hopped back to life, "Tomorrow's show may be a little dicey schedule wise, as our guest star is feeling quite unwell. Will he finally exit his literal and proverbial cave of sorrows for once in his miserable life? Or, much like his saintly past, will pride once again be his downfall--"
"Dad! Are you– eep!"
Charlie's entrance was suddenly interrupted when a black fist rained down on the damned noise box, breaking in a fit of bouncing springs and wooden splinters. The room stilled until a meek, nervous chuckle finally broke the spell.
"Charlie, dear?"
"Y…yeah?"
"Um. Could. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?"
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Theo's free use feat. Keeho (灬º‿º灬)♡
exhibitionism, swallowing, Keeho's in charge, Taeyang is called princess
wc : 948
Taeyang was half asleep as he got his makeup done. He was happy to keep his eyes closed as his stylist worked on his eyeshadow, though he worried he’d actually fall asleep.
Evidently, he wouldn’t have to worry. A hand landed on his shoulder, and wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it hadn't slid down his arm to squeeze his bicep. His heartbeat picked up, now intrigued. He kept his eyes closed because they were still being worked on.
The hand slipped back up and settled at the base of his neck, at his collar bones. The stylist must want to play. Taeyang didn’t mind, he never did, but was already embarrassed by being out in the open like this. The dressing room just had the group members and their staff, who all knew about Taeyang’s specific state of affairs, but the amount of people here still made him shy.
Taeyang sat straighter when it moved to his chest, the thumb on his nipple. If he didn’t already have concealer and foundation on, his blushed cheeks would’ve been obvious. Blood also flushed his cock. He was still embarrassed, but let whatever happen, happen.
His chair was turned and the stylist knelt a leg on it, in between his thighs. The knee pressed close to his bulge. Taeyang shifted. He wondered if he was allowed to grind on it. Or maybe he was supposed to. The hand that had been applying his eyeshadow grasped his jaw and thumbed at his lips. Taeyang obediently opened his mouth.
“You’re so good for us. Always are.”
Taeyang’s body bloomed hot at the voice. He opened his eyes to see Keeho in front of him, the makeup artist out of sight. His blush deepened. Keeho smirked at him. Taeyang was fine with this, even preferred this, but it was still surprising. He wanted to know at what point it was Keeho touching him, not the stylist.
“Did you mess up my makeup?” Taeyang managed to speak.
Keeho chuckled. He bent and pecked Taeyang’s lips, barely there, probably to avoid transferring his lipstick. “You have such little faith in me. Come.” He said, moving towards the door.
Taeyang avoided eye contact as he followed Keeho out of the room. Shuffling down the hallway behind Keeho, he held his hands in front of his crotch to hide his hard-on. Keeho didn't seem to be concerned with his problem. They ducked into a bathroom and Keeho pulled him into a stall.
Keeho pushed him to the wall, albeit gently, and got his hands underneath his shirt. He went up to his chest and cupped his pecs, his thumbs rubbing his nipples. Taeyang's breath hitched.
“When was it you?” Taeyang whispered. “You and not her?”
Keeho smirked. “Does it matter?”
Taeyang watched Keeho’s hands slide down his stomach and push into his pants, tugging them and his underwear down. He wrapped his hand around Taeyang’s hard cock. Taeyang was glad they were doing this before the performance—he didn’t want to be distracted on stage.
“I was the one touching your chest.” Keeho told him.
That meant the stylist had started it. She had felt his arm and the base of his neck. The thought made Taeyang shiver. While he saw her almost every day, he wasn’t close with her, and Taeyang was in love with the fact that a near stranger could, and did, touch him like that. His hips pushed into Keeho’s hand.
Keeho grinned, amused. “You can jerk off while you blow me, yeah?”
Taeyang nodded. He got to his knees before Keeho even had his dick out. And Keeho stepped away to lean against the other wall, so Taeyang had to crawl to him. Keeho guided Taeyang to his cock with a hand on the back of his head and a smug smile.
Taeyang took him down his throat. He momentarily worried about getting his knees dirty on the bathroom floor, but didn't exactly care—his pants were dark, anyway. He held Keeho's hips and bobbed his head on him. Keeho pet his hair lightly, minding the styling. Taeyang wished he would grip his hair and fuck his face, but he’d settle for what he could get. It was for the best, anyway; he needed his throat in good condition.
Keeho seemed to have the same thought. “Feels good, princess, but be careful. Gotta sound pretty later, yeah?”
Taeyang nodded. He sucked on his cockhead and pumped his length.
“Are you touching yourself?”
Taeyang shook his head, looking up at him.
“Why not?”
Taeyang blushed. He'd forgotten Keeho told him to do that. He pumped his cock. He looked at Keeho, eyes wide and hopeful. Keeho smiled. He guided him back to his dick.
Taeyang got Keeho off first, and stayed on his knees to finish jerking himself off. He accidentally came on Keeho’s shoes, and Keeho wasn’t mad, but he had Taeyang wipe it off himself with some toilet paper. Then Taeyang stood and Keeho kissed him a few more times. Even with how this all started, Taeyang felt loved and appreciated.
“Good, princess?” Keeho asked, cupping Taeyang’s face.
Taeyang nodded. He took Keeho’s hand and kissed the palm of it, wishing they could do more. Maybe they could continue once home.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re gonna make me want to miss the performance just to keep kissing you.”
Taeyang grinned. Keeho rolled his eyes, kissed him one more time, then took them back to the dressing room. Taeyang was shy walking into the room, but Keeho wasn’t, so he tried to be like him. Their makeup was touched up and then Taeyang had to perform like nothing just happened.
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Heyyyyy! You can totally ignore this 🙏🏻 but as someone who’s now read most of what you wrote for Joel and enjoyed (!) it, I was wondering if you ever had to justify to yourself the topics you are writing about. I know it’s a fantasy that doesn’t reflect supporting those narratives irl. But do the topics affect you in any way while writing or do you not let it have any hold of you? I’m sorry this is so serious but you are the first fic writer dealing with this stuff that I actively read (after roughly 15 years of reading/writing fanfic) so I’m asking in good spirits and mean no harm or negativity. All the best and I wish you many more successful stories 🙏🏻🌻 ty for the great reads!!
Okay, I’m nervous to answer this one. I hope the answer doesn't upset you because that's not at all my intent. I'm only gonna answer a Q like this once, so fuck it we ball . Only read this if you're comfortable with all of my work.
A few weeks ago, I was talking to my personal trainer about this, and it just so happens that his husband is a sex therapist. Kink friendly, and I know they swing, so that put me at ease and I got in touch with him. Also drug friendly which is good because I had to get high before my first appointment bc I was nervous lol. Random, but when I got there, I found out he also shares a waiting room with a massage parlor, so that's kinda cool too.
First Appointment: Idk how many waivers I had to sign but I didn't read a word of them. Let’s call him Dr. Rock for short - When Dr. Rock came out to get me, I shouldn't have been surprised given his husband is a PT, but this guy was super imposing, like muscles making his arms stick out from his body. At the first appointment, he wanted to know some of my specific characters and stories, which I didn't expect. I was a little shy about that at first, but he kinda coaxed it out of me and listened really attentively. He even took a few notes which made me nervous at first, but he didn't ask any judgmental questions. I felt good when I left, but the next week I was still a little nervous to come back just in case he was waiting until the second session to spring any "concern" on me.
Second Appointment: When I showed up for the second session, he didn't come get me from the waiting room. I was the last appointment of the day and he was running behind, catching up on paperwork, and the receptionist said I could go on back. I walked into his office and it reeked of weed. And he had already taken off his shirt and was wearing a tight undershirt. Okay, Dr. Rock is cool. He invited me to sit at his desk that time instead of the sofa, and I worried it was a bad sign, but it turned out that’s just where the ashtray was. Dr. Rock lit up an actual joint, took a puff, then tried to hand it to me. I declined, I guess I was just flustered. Kinda smoothed my skirt then sat back down. He put the joint down in the ashtray, I thought that’s that.
Then he lunged across his desk, took my head in both his hands, and brought his mouth about an inch away from mine. I opened my mouth, totally frozen, and he exhaled into it. Yeah, Dr. Rock shotgunned me. Then I looked down, and what was he wearing with that tight-ass shirt? PJ pants. Coincidence? Wasn’t sure, until he said “yeah, there’s my bad girl. You couldn’t sign those waivers fast enough, could ya?” He slid across his desk, Saved by the Bell style, I stood up to not get knocked over. He walked over and double-locked his office door. I must've been beet red. Like almost too mortified to be turned on, until he got right up against me and he was hard. I walked backwards to the couch and he pinned me on it.
I was like, “Uh, is J (husband) cool with -”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout him..” He started gnawing at my neck. Shoved his hand between my legs. And yes, yes I was. He was like “Ohh yeah, you know you want it. Let’s see how depraved you can be.” He took off my panties, pulled down his waistband, railed me. At first, I was kinda distracted thinking about if he was gonna ask me questions at the end and stuff, but he was actually really good and well equipped and I forgot all about it after a minute. He was like “Yeah, you want this cock, that’s why you came here in the first place. Hell, J prolly told ya how to get it.” I was speechless. When he was close, he said “Lemme see those filthy fingers you’re always typin’ with.” Then he came into both my hands.
-
Third Appointment: Next time I came in, I was expecting to have a traditional appointment and have to talk about my feelings in the previous experience and stuff. I was really nervous. Once again, he didn’t come get me from the waiting room, and I was told to go back to his office. But that time, he wasn’t at his desk or even in his office. I sat on the couch - felt less like I was invading his Dr. space that way. I was sitting there in his office, picking lint off my skirt, and out of the corner of my eye I saw someone his size lumber through the door.
I did a double take - blue mechanic suit, popped collar. Triple take - Michael Myers mask, WHAT? My heart was beating out of my chest. I stood up as a reflex. He stood there wiggling his fingers at his sides almost imperceptibly. Then he pulled a knife out! He wrapped his hand around my throat, walked me into the wall, and just stood there. He put the knife up to my throat and I kind of whimpered, and maybe he realized he went too far, because he threw the knife to the floor. Then he just stood there holding me against the wall. I was like, “Should I.. what do you want me to do?” And he just tilted his head at me. I looked down and sure enough there was a huge bulge in his jumpsuit. So I went for it, I unzipped him. He breathed heavily in the mask, then aggressively lifted up my dress and ripped open my stockings. Then he railed me up against the wall. Didn't say a word the whole time. Finished, left me there, didn't come back.
-
Fourth Appointment: This was gonna be a little awkward because I had an appointment at the gym with J. right after my appointment with Dr. Rock. I didn’t know how much Dr. Rock shared with J. Dr. Rock was running behind again and I started getting nervous about making it to the gym in time to work out with J. I texted J. to tell him I was running late, and he didn’t respond. After waiting for like 30 minutes, I decided to leave because I didn’t want to miss my training session.
I got to my car, started to unlock it, then heard, "Don't you fuckin' dare." I turned around, and Dr. Rock was pointing a rifle at me?? My heart almost stopped. I think this was an actual rifle. I live in Texas so I wouldn't be surprised. It was slung over his back with a strap and all. I looked down and he was wearing boots and TACTICAL fucking JEGGINGS. He put me over his shoulder at first and started back toward the building and I was so nervous about the rifle swaying right next to my head.
I said, "please, I can walk."
"Alright, sweet pea but you better move those pretty legs."
He put me down and manhandled me inside, NOT into his office, but into the massage parlor and threw me down on a DIRTY old massage table. Here's the kicker - there were clients in this room. A bunch of depraved men waiting for their happy ending. He unbuckled his belt while making me pull down my pants and choose where I wanted him. Then he pounded me from behind and pulled me up against his chest. He lifted my shirt and bra up so all the clients could see and degraded them while he fucked me. Like, "yeah this is what y'all came for innit? Buncha sickos. Well she's not workin'. Not this one. You won't fuckin see her again. Better jack it now while ya have the chance." He made the whole room of clients jerk off. Then, when Dr. Rock was about to come, he pulled out, pumped himself, walked over to the nearest table, and came all over the client, who started sobbing. Then Dr. Rock came back to my table and said "you did good, sweet pea" and left.
When I got back to my car, I had a text from J. that said, “Get a good enough workout?”
-
Sorry for answering your sincere ask this way, but thanks for the perfect opportunity to apply this concept. Hopefully an entertaining way of declining to get serious?
#meta#sorry#dr. rock#night walks!joel#michael myers#raider!joel#ask box#toxicanonymity writer's room#dark!joel#raider!joel miller#dr. rockhard#tw: dubcon#tw: drugs#roleplay#might have more#cw discourse#i guess
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please please write a jealous jake lockley fic where he’s either jealous of always being in the shadow while marc and steven get reader’s attention or maybe he’s jealous of someone from her work (sfw or nsfw if you want). TY IN ADVANCE!!
Damsel in Distress (Moon Knight Boys/Female Reader)
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this fic! I kinda tried to combine both of the things requested and I hope you like the direction I took! This was super fun to write as well as to dust off my smut writing skills! I could definitely see myself writing a part 2 to this so let me know if that's something y'all are interested in.
Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39540033
Content Warnings/General Themes: ⚠ 18+ content: by reading this you affirm you are over the age of 18 years or over the age of maturity as stated in your regional or local guidelines. jealousy, unwanted advances, lots of swearing (mainly from Jake because he’s Jake), Marc/Steven/Jake all making appearances, established relationships, violence (pretty minor, only one instance), one mention of blood, allusions to prior sexual actvities, oh boy here comes the good stuff, semi-public sexual activities, museum sex, spit kink (like A LOT, I’m sorry), mouth spitting, handjob, oral (m recieving), face-fucking, hair-pulling, degradation (including use of demeaning terms), praise kink, facial, “Sir” kink, allusions to Dom/Sub relationship dynamic, mentions of choking, Jake having a filthy mouth (as he should).
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4,071
“Absolutely not.”
Your boyfriend’s voice drew your attention away from the mirror you had been anxiously eyeing yourself in. You had been getting ready for what felt like hours, doing everything you could to pass the time rather than anxiously pacing around your shared apartment. You had been invited to a fancy gala at the museum you and Steven worked at together, and much to his and Marcs’ dismay–apparently–you had chosen one of your more revealing cocktail dresses for the occasion.
You turned to your boyfriend, with a mock frown on your face. “What, you don’t like it?”
He rolled his eyes after not so subtly taking your form in. “Baby…I already have to stay on the back burner tonight…and now you’re going to be wearing that all night? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Maybe not kill you, just make you suffer internally for a bit,” you said, with a cheeky wink. “And I am definitely wearing this dress, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, Marc.” You had already been hyped up by your friends and coworkers to wear this particular outfit, as well as by yourself, and there was no way you were going to change because of how one of your boyfriends was feeling about it.
It wasn’t like Marc was dressed particularly conservative either–the way his tailored suit and perfectly styled hair looked together had you weak at the knees. You wished that you could take him as your plus one, but you and Steven had specifically been invited, and people would surely be raising some eyebrows if he suddenly started speaking with an American accent. Not to mention the completely different manner in which Marc carried himself, and the fact that he worked for a mummified bird for a living. That probably wouldn’t fly well around the historians and archeologists and whoever the hell else attended these types of things.
“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Marc said in response to you. He also took the opportunity to kiss you on the cheek and pull you in by the hips, which made you practically melt in place.
“Yeah…but I’m your brat,” you practically whined out, trying to look as innocent as possible. You could tell Marc knew you were just fucking with him, but you had to admit it was fun to push his buttons every once in a while.
You could sense a shift within the man in front of you.
“Surely you mean our brat right, love?” he asked, nose crinkling as he enunciated each word with his distinct accent.
You knew Steven was going to make an appearance sooner rather than later, as he could be a bit of a control freak when the two of you had a place to be. You honestly preferred it at times though, especially when compared to Marc’s tendency to spontaneously propose things for the two of you to do. You asked Marc on one of your heat-of-the-moment dates why he wasn’t a fan of making plans ahead of time, and he simply responded by telling you he had a lot he wanted to make up for in a relatively short amount of time, so he wanted to make the most of it. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart at his confession, knowing about his past and the very reason for Steven’s existence. From that moment on, the love you felt for Marc–and Steven–increased exponentially, and you vowed to love each of them for who they are–even if that involves having to rush out the door for one of the escapades Marc took you on.
As if he could hear your thoughts, Steven glanced at his–or rather, Marc’s– watch, and reached for your hand. “I don’t mean to rush you, love, but we should really get going if we want to make it on time. Or, we could be fashionably late, but I don’t know if we are cool enough to pull that off.”
You couldn't help but giggle at that. If there’s one thing you could count on with Steven, it’s him making light of what would have certainly been a source of anxiety for you. You dreaded going to these work events, having to get all dolled up just to meet a bunch of stuck-up rich people who you would forget about the moment you step out of the event. Your boss, Donna, wanted the two of you there to ‘represent the museum’–which basically meant to stand there and look pretty while the rich folk had the night to gawk at the various artifacts and collections that you and Steven had so tirelessly fussed over. But hey, at least you were getting paid for showing up to this thing.
You had to nearly fight Donna to get her to allow Steven to venture out of the gift shop and work in other positions at the museum, which then resulted in the two of you rotating between working the shop as well as in the various exhibit halls. For some reason, Donna had taken a liking to you from the moment you first started working at the museum. Whether it was because you were generally pretty productive, or if she was simply happy to see more women working in this industry, you didn’t know, but you were certainly glad that you didn’t have her constantly breathing down your neck whenever something went wrong. You wished that you could say the same for Steven, but you liked to think that your presence did something to soften her up around him, especially when you were both on the same schedule.
You pulled yourself back to reality and glanced at the time yourself, realizing that Steven was indeed right in hurrying you along. You looked back in the mirror one more time, swiping your chosen lipstick across your lips once more, and upon interlocking Steven’s outstretched hand with your own, the two of you were off.
~
You were about two hours into the event when you started to get…fussy. That was the best way you could describe how you were feeling after hours of mingling and chowing on whatever appetizers were floating around in the various exhibit halls. Thankfully, you and Steven technically didn’t have to work, but it certainly felt like you each had become some type of designated spokesperson for the museum with the interactions you were having with the guests. You had attended some of these events in the past, and you were required to wear your nametag for security and identification purposes, so it seemed that any time someone had a question about literally anything you and Steven were the ones to come to. You didn’t mind the various questions about the artifacts or historical figures represented in the exhibits, but you were getting seriously tired of telling one person after another where the nearest restroom was.
You had taken a bit of a break from the event, finding an unoccupied table away from others where you could sit and eat some ‘real food’ that had been offered buffet-style in addition to the hors d'oeuvres going around. You could see Steven from where you were sitting, who upon glancing at the lack of vegan options, decided he would opt for a bite to eat later at the flat. He was currently telling an elderly couple about the history of gods know what. You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about the things he was interested in, and how he could articulate information in such a succinct manner. You found it to be incredibly attractive, especially when he was going down on–
“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said, drawing you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your coworker, J.B., with a cocky smirk on his face.
You rolled your eyes and tried to visibly ignore him by angling yourself away from him, making it clear that you weren’t interested. Like, at all. J.B. had been nothing but a dick to both you and Steven the entire time you had collectively worked at the museum, and his crude remarks and tasteless flirtations were usually easy to brush off, especially after a long day at work. Now, however, you had zero tolerance for this kind of behavior.
But still, he somehow found a way to see through that.
“C’mon sweetheart. You wanna get out of here? Or are you too busy gawking over that freak over there?”
You immediately snapped your head back towards him. “Excuse me?! You, of all people, don’t get to call him that.” Upon seeing him roll his eyes, you continued on. “You wish you could ever mean as much to me as he does.” You knew you didn’t have to add the last part in order to get a rise out of him, but sometimes you just loved to see the world burn.
And make entitled pricks angry.
J.B. made a show of slapping the table in front of you out of anger at your statement, luckily not gaining the attention of anyone in your immediate area. You tried to glance around him to send Steven a look of ‘what-in-the-actual-hell-is-this-dude-doing-right-now,’ but he was too obscured by the stupidity that was unfolding in front of you.
Speaking of just that, J.B. reached his hand out and gestured for yours, clearly desperate. “I’m not gonna ask again.” He said, and you almost humored him and leaned in his direction to give him a piece of your mind, but after hearing distinct footsteps coming your way from behind him, you refrained.
“That’s enough.” The voice from behind J.B sounded familiar to you yet also…off. He certainly sounded like Steven, and was presenting himself as such, but you couldn’t help but think that one of your other boyfriends may be making an appearance. Well, rather, faking a British accent and attempting to act like Steven–if you could call that an appearance. You’ve dealt with enough of their shenanigans in the past to know when something was up; and to also know that Steven is pretty much the complete opposite of the confrontational type, further leading you to believe that he wasn’t who you were seeing right now.
J.B. turned around–dramatically of course–giving Steven(?) a death stare. “Here comes the freak to save the day. I knew she was that patheti-”
J.B. was promptly cut off by your boyfriend’s fist colliding with his face, as well as your shameless chuckle when J.B. looked between the two of you with wide eyes. “Donna’s gonna have a fucking field day with this, you’ll see,” he said, wiping some blood from his nostril.
It was you who spoke next. “Yeah, she would love to hear about how you tried to harass her star-worker. Oh, and that you made my boyfriend–who she already isn’t quite fond of–get into more trouble. Yeah, I’m sure that would go over well.”
J.B. was once again taken aback, clearly frustrated but attempting to keep his rage at bay out of the fear of being put in his place again. He opened his mouth to say something, but upon making eye contact with you and the other man once more decided just to smack the table again and walk away. What a fucking man-baby.
You turned your attention to the man in front of you, whose hand came up to cradle your cheek. “You know, as much as I hate the trope of the guy swooping in and saving the damsel in distress, I have to say, I’m grateful that my boyfriend knows how to throw a punch.”
The cocky smirk on your boyfriend's face completely gave him away, and you were soothed by the velvety voice that accompanied his relaxed demeanor. “Princesa, we both know that you would be the one rescuing me in that scenario, no?” A visibly exuberated Jake said, likely feeling the effects of adrenaline from the tussle he had gotten himself into. Well, actually, Steven into– technically. You’d seen each of the boys’ reactions after a fight before, and while Steven and Marc were able to keep the rush from the fight in their pants, Jake was…different. The first time you saw him get like this you were nearly scared of him, but more dumbfounded by how excited someone could get after literally fighting people only seconds ago.
You smiled at his words, nodding your head to agree with him. He swiped his thumb over your lips, before looking around to judge if the other party-goers were winding down for the night or not. He didn’t particularly care how people would react to the two of you slipping out early or not, but he knew you certainly would; which is why he was pleased to see that no one seemed in dire need of hearing the history of whatever ancient civilization was of interest to them, or to know when dessert would be served.
“Let’s get out of here, eh? Mi amor?” He asked, a twinkle in his eyes. He reached his arm out for you to take, and he was quick to give you a kiss on the back of your hand and then tuck your arm into his elbow when you reached your hand out. Sure, Jake could be a bit unhinged at times, but at least he was a gentleman. Usually.
You glanced around to ensure no one was watching as the two of you made your way towards the exit, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you were pulled into a small room that you and Steven generally took inventory in. There were shelves full of museum merchandise, as well as a few seasonal posters and displays.
“Jake, what the hell?” You asked, honestly just wanting to get back home to your comfy bed.
“Sorry, cariño, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, his hands going straight to your curves. “From the moment I saw you in this dress and saw what that fucking cabrón was trying to do…I just…I wanted you so bad .”
You chuckled at how possessive he was being. For such a big, bad mercenary, you would expect the man to have at least some restraint but alas, Jake was simply built different.
“Aww, Jakey, don’t worry. The feeling is mutual,” you said, in a rather teasing manner.
Jake rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Open your mouth,” he said, nearly out of the blue, looking at you through hooded eyes.
You obeyed, not trying to dig yourself an even deeper hole. He made a show of reaching his hand up and pressing it against your throat, tilting your head back so he could angle himself above you. You closed your eyes, knowing what was to come, and nearly moaned when he spit into your mouth.
He used his index finger to collect some of the spit that had hit your outer lip and cheek, and brought it back to your tongue. “Swallow” he commanded, a devious look in his eyes. You obeyed him again, clenching your thighs together as you swallowed nice and slowly, his hand still resting on your throat.
“Good girl. Now get on your knees and show me what a good fucking slut you are for me, hmm?” He said, and if you weren’t already so willing to comply, his words alone would have made your knees weak anyways.
You sunk down to your knees, making your dress ride up in the process. There was no way you were going to let it get ripped in this new position after seeing what it did to each of your boys, so you didn’t care to straighten it out or fix it. You looked up innocently at Jake, and you weren’t surprised that he was looking exactly where you had just been thinking of. You went to pull the material down out of the fear that he may make you cover up, but you stopped your actions when his hands gripped your shoulders.
“Keep it like that, princesa. Reminds me how filthy you can be for me. For us .” He exaggerated the last word with a knowing smirk, recalling back to the occasions when he would watch in on the things you would do with the other two men he shared a body with. He mentally reminded himself to thank you for the floor length mirror you brought home to the flat one day, telling Steven that it was just for you to ‘give yourself a once-over before venturing out’, but that certainly didn’t explain why it had only ever rested against the wall directly next to the bed.
“Take my cock out,” Jake said, and you felt your pussy clench at his words. You forgot how unfiltered he could be when he got like this–you loved it.
“Yes Sir,” you replied, smirking as you used the title. Ever since you jokingly used the word to refer to him after a joyride in his limo one day, you had become aware of the effect it had on him. You used it a couple other times to tease him, all of which lead to some intense lovemaking (if you could even call it that after some of the sinful things you’ve let him do to you).
You made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, slowly drawing the zipper down. Once the material was opened, and you had a clear view of his hard cock in his boxers, you took the liberty of lightly stroking your fingers up his easily distinguishable shaft.
Jake inhaled sharply at that, and grabbed your wrist to stop your actions. “I gave you an order, baby. Now’s not the time to tease.” He released pressure on your wrist, tucking your hair that had fallen forward behind your ear before leaning down to it. “Do I need to remind you that we are still in public? Huh?”
“No.”
“No, what?” He asked, a shit eating grin forming on his lips.
“No, Sir,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Good girl,” he praised, loving the sound of the title on your lips. “Now make me cum like a good little whore.”
You clenched your thighs together at that, sure that you were soaking through your underwear at this point. The vulnerability and filthiness of it all should’ve turned you off, but the chokehold that Jake had on you–sometimes literally–was no doubt the cause of many feelings you had yet to fully dissect. But hey, ignorance is bliss.
Not wanting to stall any longer, for both his and your sake, you reached into his boxers and took his cock into your hands. You used your dominant hand to stroke up and down the shaft, using the pre-cum that had already begun collecting there as slick to aid your actions. Your other hand went to his full balls that were surely aching from the lack of contact.
Just as you found yourself getting into a good rhythm, you were shocked to feel Jake removing your non-dominant hand and angling it up towards his face. He leant down slightly, looking directly into your eyes, and then spit twice into your palm. “Use both hands up here, cariño,” he said, gesturing to his shaft. “I want to see how they look on my cock.”
You obeyed, gliding the hand with his spit in it along the entire length before bringing both hands up to the shaft and jerking him off. Your hands could barely fit around the girth of his dick, adding to the sinfulness of it all. That, combined with the wet sounds that the action made, seemed to be only amplified by the fact that you were in a relatively confined room at your place of work. You tried to focus on pleasuring Jake with your hands, but you couldn’t think straight with the swollen tip of his cock barely an inch from your face.
In other situations, you may have been a bit more hesitant about acting without permission, but you could tell that Jake was nearing his peak as you kept stroking. You knew how much he loved your mouth on him, so you closed the distance between your mouth and his cock, swirling your tongue around what you could fit in your mouth. You were immediately met with a moan from the man above you, who had to bite down on his knuckles to stifle any other noises. From the way he was breathing, you could tell he was definitely trying to hold back, both physically and vocally, so as not to reveal your location to the others outside the door. You were honestly beyond the point of caring, so you picked up the pace a bit, removing your tongue from the equation and settling to suck hard on his tip.
That seemed to really do something to Jake, provoking him to reach up and grab your hair in his fists.
“Fuck! Such a good girl for me,” he praised, allowing his hips to thrust in order to match your tempo. You could feel his balls hardening as they came in contact with your skin, and you knew he was close.
“Does my pretty princess wanna make me cum? Hmm?” He asked. “Right here, while your coworkers are in the other room?” He added, raising his eyebrow at your eagerness.
You nodded as a response, removing one of your hands to play with his balls once again and to allow him deeper into your mouth. The combination of your willingness to take him, as well as his eager thrusts caused him to nearly hit the back of your throat.
With a few more deep thrusts, Jake was removing his hands from your hair, and using them to angle your face towards him how he wanted. You removed your hands out of instinct, opting to place them on either side of his hips instead.
“Stick out your tongue,” he demanded, furiously stroking his length in front of you.
“I want your cum so bad, Jake” you said, before doing what he asked.
At that, he leaned down one last time and spit in your mouth again and you smiled with your mouth open, knowing he couldn’t resist.
“Ready for it, baby?” He asked, bringing his cock back to your open mouth.
You nodded frantically, closing your eyes when you could tell he was about to orgasm. You felt his cum hit your tongue and lips, the warm liquid tasting salty and distinctly like Jake. You nearly came with him at the sensation, as well as when he cupped your chin with one of his large hands to admire his work.
When he released you, you made a show of swallowing the liquid and licking off what didn’t make it inside with your tongue. You made eye contact with Jake while doing so, who you could tell was in a state of complete bliss. You leaned forward to lick up any of the cum left on his tip, then tucked him into his boxers and pants. He offered you a hand to help you stand up, letting you get used to being bipedal once more as he replaced his belt.
“Maybe I should play the role of damsel in distress more often, huh?” You asked, giving Jake a quick kiss as he adjusted his clothes and hair. You figured you should probably do the same, hiking your skirt back down and running a hand through your own hair.
“And maybe I should take you out of here and fuck you in the back of my limo to remind you who you belong to?” He responded, clearly still jazzed from everything that had gone on over the course of the night.
“Jakey, you know me so well!” You took his hand in yours, linking arms and allowing him to guide you out of the room and building with a hand on the small of your back.
As the two of you walked out together, you could’ve sworn you saw J.B. staring at you with wide eyes before looking between you and the security camera terminal.
Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on them being installed in the storage room.
~
taglist: @verexi
#marc spector x reader#jake lockely x reader#steven grant x reader#moonknight x you#moon knight smut#jake lockley smut
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I don't know, but can I request a threesome between namjoon, hoseok and the female reader with “i’ve dreamt about this.”? looooove here ❤
Ooh, yes ma'am, you made a good choice there 😛
• Pairing: Namjoon x (F)Reader x Hoseok
• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Roommates to Lovers, Polyamory
• Rating: 18+
• Words: 8.2k
• Summary: Looks like dreams do come true.
• Prompt: #4 “I’ve dreamt about this.” (fluff)
• Warnings/themes: “And they were roommates!”, pining, love confessions, threesome, polyamory, soft dom!Namjoon, soft dom!Hoseok, dirty talk, unprotected sex (Use. Protection.), doggy style, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjobs, slight anal play, mentions of double penetration, accidental cumshot, creampie, plot twist at the end 🤔
• Notes: So. I was pretty happy to finally get a request for Mr. Hobi but not only that but with my hubby too??? Imagine actually being in between these two fine men...I don’t think I’d make it out alive but it would be worth it 😌 I also got lucky enough that this coincided with my “Threesome” square for the @bangtanwritingbingo ! 💕 Crossposted to AO3.
• Taglist: @parkdatjimin @jimilter @joontied @highly-functioning-mitochondria @swweetnightt
Some people dreamed of being rich. Some dreamed of eternal beauty. And some dreamed of unconditional love. Well, that last one was kind of what you desired, but not by one person.
No, you wanted the love of two men, specifically your wonderful roommates.
And you were currently receiving it in the form of being sandwiched between them on the ripped leather couch, Namjoon pounding into you from behind while your mouth was stuffed full of Hoseok’s cock.
“Mmm—“
Hoseok raised a brow at your muffled moan, pushing the rest of your hair out of your face as he panted, “Doing alright down there, sweetheart?”
Namjoon scoffed lightly, readjusting his hands on your hips. “Hobi, relax, Y/N is in heaven right now—“ He gave a stronger thrust and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Aren’t you, babygirl?”
All you could do was make a louder sound as an answer, body quivering and eyelids fluttering.
He wasn’t wrong; you were in heaven right now.
“So what did you want to talk to us about, babygirl?”
You straightened up at Namjoon’s curious tone, biting your lip as you continued to stare at your clasped hands.
“Um…”
Hoseok’s voice sounded to the right of you, “Why the nervous expression, sweetheart? Did you back the tub up again?”
“No, no, Hobi, that’s not it…”
You wished it were something as trivial as that.
The truth was that you were going to confess your feelings for your two roommates, Namjoon and Hoseok.
How your love for the both of them extended beyond platonic yet was equal.
But would this go well?
It was so fucking risky to be telling them this in the first place. What reaction were you even expecting? Shock? Outrage? Disgust? Complete acceptance?
That last one almost made you laugh.
“Well, what then?” One of Hoseok’s hands landed on your entwined ones. “You look like you’re about to throw up, sweetheart.”
Swallowing hard, you forced the trembling to stop now that he was touching you. Looking up at Hoseok, your heart melted at the sunny smile he gave you, his heart-shaped lips curling.
Then you felt a hand wrap around to rest on your shoulder.
“Yeah Y/N, relax. Take your time but whatever you have to say, we want to hear it.”
And now you turned your head, heart dissolving completely at Namjoon’s dimpled smile, full lips twisting up.
“Joonie, Hobi…”
You didn’t know whether to consider yourself lucky or unlucky that you ended up bonding with these two men.
Last year, you needed a new place to live, desperate to distance yourself from your unstable roommate who often had screaming matches with her on-again, off-again partner. The only options you could find were a crappy, overpriced studio apartment and a three-bedroom place with two occupants for a decent price. Obviously, the latter sounded like the better option but there was a catch.
The occupants were male.
Living with the opposite gender wasn’t something you were completely opposed to but it was more a concern of safety than anything. So you enlisted one of your good friends to come with you for the tour and interview. The listing had mentioned that the men were around your age but you weren’t expecting much.
Which is why you were blown away when you met them.
Both were incredibly handsome, enough that you paused for a bit before shaking their hands. But the two were distinguishable from each other in their own ways.
Hoseok carried himself with a playful air, present in his silvery lavender hair and colorful outfit. His grin was wide and toothy, giving you a warmth in your chest that made you give your brightest smile back as well. And his speech and tone were chipper, easing your nerves the longer you conversed with him.
Namjoon was almost the complete opposite. His demeanor was warm with a sense of calm underneath, further lowering your guard down. But while his smile revealed just as much teeth as his roommate’s, you couldn’t help but notice the dimples sitting outside it. And the sheer baritone of his voice and the articulation of his words had you reeling every time he opened his mouth.
But it was interesting to see how well the two men meshed together despite their differences. It was clear that they were close and had known each other for a while, making jokes at each other’s expenses or slyly revealing their not-so-fun living habits. The longer you spoke to them, the more your mind was being made up.
Three weeks later and you were moving your stuff into their empty third room.
It didn’t take long for you to get settled in, thanks to the guys’ help. Between helping you set up your furniture and cooking or ordering takeout, everything was where you liked it to be and the apartment began feeling like home in no time. You could also credit your roommates themselves.
On the days that you were full of energy and needed to work it out, you would seek out Hoseok for help. Whether it was dancing, playing video games or walking around town looking for new places to visit, you could count on the joyful man to show you a good time. As long as the two of you came back in time (he was strict about his beauty sleep), he’d take you anywhere you would want to go.
And on the days where you felt frazzled, Namjoon was your source of comfort. All you had to do was give him that look and he would be patting the spot next to him with a warm smile. Either the two of you watched a movie or documentary or he would read you whatever book had caught his current interest. Sometimes you could retain the story but other times, you weren’t paying close attention to what character A did to character B. All you could focus on was his soothing, deep voice that lulled you into peace.
If Hoseok was the sun, then Namjoon was your moon.
Fourteen months of this bliss. And yet you couldn’t pinpoint when exactly you fell in love with both Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok.
But the realization hit you out of nowhere one day.
You were preparing a salad for dinner and letting your thoughts run as always. Somehow, you ended up thinking about your roommates, even though they were on the other side of the room setting the table. The two of them had to leave town for the weekend so you all decided to have a nice meal together before splitting up. When you thought about it, just two days away was nothing but when you were all used to seeing each other every single day, it could feel like an eternity.
It didn’t help that both of them invited you to come along to their respective hometowns. You wished you could split yourself up in two and keep them company but it just wasn’t possible. On top of that, one of your childhood friends was passing through on a business trip and wanted to spend some time with you. Being the understanding people that they were, Namjoon and Hoseok gave you a smile and a tight hug while telling you not to worry about it. The three of you had plenty of time to make up for it when they returned.
But it wasn’t that that caused the revelation.
It was the daydreaming of doing all sorts of activities with them when you went to their hometowns. Meeting their family and friends. Having them show you the spots they used to frequent as they were growing up. And falling asleep in their arms at the end of the night, despite the promise to their parents that you would sleep in separate rooms.
And the fact that you couldn’t designate it to just one of them. No.
The both of them were in your fantasies.
It was enough to make you gasp and drop your salad tossers, the sound alerting Namjoon and Hoseok. They called out to ask if you were okay, prompting you to reassure them with a peppy voice. Thank goodness they were too far to see the way your hands trembled when you picked up the dirty utensils.
The rest of the night went smoothly but by the next morning, after the guys said goodbye and left you all alone, you were an anxious wreck. How could you have feelings for not one, but two men? And your roommates, at that?
Maybe you were just confused and going through something with your hormones. Being in such close proximity to attractive men was sure to make them go haywire, right? And even if you did have feelings, maybe you felt stronger about one more than the other and needed some time to work it out. Or even a pros and cons list to help decide!
But it was futile.
After weeks of observing your relationships with the guys and writing down an incredibly long list (the pros ended up longer than the cons), you found that your emotions didn’t wane for either of them. In fact, they grew a little more, day by day, for one reason or another.
You were stuck in a corner and ended up on your laptop in the middle of the night one day, searching the web on articles for a term that you had come across in your travels.
Polyamory.
The practice of engaging in multiple romantic (and typically sexual) relationships, with the consent of all the people involved.
Which fit your current dilemma to a T.
While a tiny part of you was happy to find a name for it, the rest of you despaired. You lived in a society that valued monogamous relationships (at least on a surface level but that was a rant for another day) and would look at you with disgust if you even dared to venture outside of the norm. But you could care less about what others would think.
What would Hoseok and Namjoon say if you ever told them?
Would they laugh in your face? Would they call you a greedy slut? Would they ask you to move out because you made them uncomfortable?
All of those thoughts led to you silently crying yourself to sleep.
Your roommates weren’t the judgmental and unforgiving kind so you weren’t sure why you assumed that they would have such a negative reaction to your feelings. These were the same guys who gently reminded you whenever you left your load in the washing machine or that it was your night to wash dishes. But those paled in comparison to your roommate being in love with both you and your friend.
After some time, you couldn’t stay silent anymore.
“I’m gonna come, babygirl…” Namjoon’s bass rumbled out, self-restraint keeping him from going through on his declaration.
You whimpered around Hoseok’s cock and pulled off, strings of spit connecting until you rasped out, “Not yet, Joon—“
Thinking that you didn’t want him to finish inside, he was surprised when you looked back at him with a sweet smile .
“I want Hobi now.”
Namjoon chuckled at your request, giving your bottom a pat. “Oh yeah?” He looked over to Hoseok. “Think you can handle her, Hobi?”
Hoseok scoffed. “Of course I can. C’mere, sweetheart.”
With the invite, Namjoon slowly pulled out of you, your walls weeping for something to fill them up again. Crawling up closer to Hoseok, you squeaked when he picked you up and sat you on his lower stomach while pulling you down for a deep kiss. You moaned as his tongue pressed past your lips to tangle against your own. He pulled away too soon, smirking at how you whimpered.
“I would love to kiss you more, baby, but you need to take care of Joon while I’m fucking you.”
You looked up to see said man standing next to the couch now, slowly stroking his cock, using your wetness to slide up and down the sizable length. Licking your lips at the sight, you batted your lashes. “What do you want me to do, Namjoon?”
“Hmph, I want to get a taste of your mouth, babygirl. Can’t let Hoseok have all the fun.”
A small moan couldn’t help but escape at his statement, wasting no time in nodding. “Yes, Joonie.”
Namjoon grinned and reached down with his free hand to brush some hair out of your heated face. “That’s my Y/N.”
You returned the look at the praise, only for your eyes to widen when you felt something pressing against your entrance. Looking down, you spotted Hoseok holding up his cock to align with you, raising a brow. “Ready for me, Y/N?”
“Yes Hobi, please...”
Grinning at your begging, Hoseok slowly pushed his hips up to begin entering you, swearing under his breath as you engulfed him. Namjoon had opened you up a bit from earlier but it didn’t mitigate the heat and slick that coated his dick. Once he bottomed out, his head tipped back into the couch. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart—”
You licked your lips at his reaction while you heard Namjoon give a short laugh. “She feels amazing, doesn’t she?”
“Fuck, yes she does—” Hoseok brought his head back up after collecting himself, eyes nearly black now. “How the fuck did you have the strength to pull out of this?”
“I can’t be selfish, Hoseok, gotta let you have your turn also.”
You piped in, doing your best not to squeeze instinctively, “Exactly. Besides, I would have yelled at Namjoon if he didn’t let you.”
The three of you laughed at your quip, sure that you would go through on your promise if the circumstances ever came up.
“That’s our Y/N, yeah?”
“Yes it is.”
Your smile nearly took over half of your face at the kisses you got on your forehead and cheek from the respective men.
How did you get so lucky?
“Okay...Namjoon. Hoseok.”
You looked at both men when you said their names.
“You...you two are wonderful, you know that?”
Both of their cheeks pinked as shy smiles formed.
“Babygirl, I think we should be saying that about you.”
“Yeah Y/N, we’re just two idiots compared to you.”
“No you’re not! You’re both so amazing...” A grin peeked despite your nerves. “I’m so lucky to have met you guys. My life’s gotten a little brighter since I moved in, honestly. To think I would have missed out on this if I didn’t see that ad...”
Namjoon and Hoseok felt their hearts skip at your words, looking at each other for a couple of seconds before returning their gazes to you.
“Y/N, we’re glad you decided to live with us too. We didn’t expect to get this close with you, honestly.”
“Mhm.” Namjoon chuckled, running a hand through his dark gray strands. “You’re leagues above our last couple of roommates, that’s for sure.”
Hoseok gave one of his sunny grins. “And way cuter, too!”
“Hobi!” You playfully pushed him as he laughed at your embarrassment.
“What, it’s true! Right Joon?”
Namjoon made a slight sound of disapproval. “I don’t know, man—” Now he grinned mischievously. “I don’t think cute is enough to describe her. Maybe stunning? Beautiful? Gorgeous?”
“Guys!”
Now the two of them laughed, leaving you to bury your overheated face in your hands. You didn’t even have to ask them for compliments like that, they just said it without a thought. And with such sincerity...
No wonder you fell for them.
The thought brought you back to focus on what you were supposed to be saying in the first place, your smile dropping as your stomach began twisting again. Bringing your hands back down, you took in a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm yourself. “Guys...sorry, but I need to tell you something important.”
From the tone of your voice, Hoseok and Namjoon’s smiles dropped as well, fearing the worst. Were you sick? Did something happen to a loved one? Were you planning on moving out? All of those options were bad but that last one nearly drove a knife into their hearts.
“What is it, babygirl? Is everything okay?”
“I...”
This was it. Maybe you should look them both in the eyes while you said this. You decided to stand up from the couch and turn towards the men, gripping tight onto your pants while your eyes darted between the two.
“Hoseok...Namjoon. I...”
You had to stop to get rid of the solid lump lodged in your throat.
“I...love you. Like, really love you. I mean, I’m in love with you. The both of you. But...” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I can’t help but feel like it’s so wrong of me to...to feel that way. There’s people who are in this same situation who said it’s normal, as long as everyone is treated equally—”
You had to pause to take in a shaking breath.
“But then, that’s a minority. Most don’t have romantic feelings for two people at the same time but, haha, it’s happening to me right now!”
Namjoon and Hoseok, despite their shock, frowned at the uneasy laugh you let out.
“The crazy thing is, I don’t know when this could have happened...it’s like I just woke up one day and realized ‘hey, I’m in love with both of my roommates!’. And I tried, I tried so hard to...” Your grip tightened as tears started filling your eyes. “To see if maybe my feelings skewed towards one more than the other but—”
You shook your head. “They didn’t.”
“The more I thought about it, the more I knew that I loved the both of you equally. Even on the days where I was annoyed or upset with either one of you. Now…”
It was incredibly difficult not to turn into a blubbering mess but you had these last few words to say.
“I-I don’t expect you guys to feel the same way. I know you love me but if it’s just as a friend t-then…”
You looked each of them in the eye, the smile on your lips wobbling while a tear escaped.
“Then I c-can live with that. I just don’t want you two to hate me for feeling this way…”
The air in the room was heavy and silent. So silent a pin dropping could be heard. You didn’t want to say anymore, ready yet dreading to see Hoseok and Namjoon’s reactions.
“Y/N.”
Namjoon’s voice came out softly, prompting you to gaze at his gentle expression.
“Come here, babygirl.” His built arms stretched out towards you. “Sit with us.”
Nodding shyly, you walked back over to the couch, letting him pull you down into your previous spot. As soon as you were fully seated, Namjoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder once more. “So you love us?”
“M-Mhm…”
Hoseok scooted closer and reached up to carefully stroke the back of your hair. “Sweetheart, we could never hate you for that. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
All you were capable of was nodding, preparing yourself for the rejection.
“Actually…we’re glad you said something first.”
It took a couple of seconds for you to understand what Namjoon said but once it hit, you peered at him with confusion.
“Y-You are?”
“Yeah—“ The usually steadfast man had an odd yet endearing look of bashfulness on his face. “Hoseok and I, we…we actually had a little talk a couple of weeks ago. A-About you.”
At your sound of surprise, Hoseok jumped in now, sounding just as shy as his friend. “Y/N, Namjoon, he…he came up to me one day when you were out and said he had to talk to me about something important. Wanna know what he said?”
“What did he say?”
Hoseok chuckled, giving the other man a teasing grin as his cheeks reddened.
“He said ‘I think I’m in love with Y/N’.”
Those seven words almost caused your heartbeat to cease.
Your head swung over to gape at Namjoon, barely able to keep full eye contact with you now. “N-Namjoon, you…”
“Yeah, babygirl. But there’s something else you need to know too.” With a jerk of your chin, he continued. “When I told Hoseok that, he got this odd look on his face. I asked him what was up and well—“
Now he smirked at the other, who looked up at the ceiling light like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“He fessed up too.”
“Too? Hobi, do you mean…?”
Hoseok brought his eyes back onto you, nodding firmly despite his darkened cheeks. “Yes sweetheart…I’m in love with you also.”
Was this a dream? How could both Namjoon and Hoseok be in love with you too?
But there was still a major problem that the three of you needed to discuss.
“Guys...I-I’m still trying to process this but I need to know something else.”
“What is it?”
“Well...” You chewed on your lip as you contemplated how to word this. “How...how are we going to go about this now? I mean—” You brought your hands up in a mild shrug. “I don’t know how you guys feel about what I mentioned earlier...”
“About...being in a relationship with both of us?”
“Yes...”
This was the part where you were expecting them to say that they weren’t on board with that, wanting to just get their feelings out in the open to ease your anxiety.
But then you felt each of your roommates take a respective hand in theirs, giving you a snug yet comforting grip.
“Y/N.”
Both Namjoon and Hoseok shifted their bodies so you could see them both at the same time, their expressions determined.
“Would you really want to be involved with both of us?”
It didn’t take you long to respond.
“Yes, I would. But only if the two of you are comfortable with it.” Your gaze hardened to show how serious you were. “It wouldn’t be fair to force you guys into something that you don’t want to do.”
For a while, the living room was silent as you awaited for Namjoon and Hoseok’s response. You averted your eyes for now, not wanting to make them feel pressured. This wasn’t a decision that you could make on a whim.
After some time, a broad hand took each of yours into its grip, prompting you to redirect your gaze on the objects of your affections. Their dark brown eyes housed nothing but devotion as they gave you tender smiles.
“Y/N, we’re fine with it.”
Your eyes widened and your posture perked at Hoseok’s approval. “R-Really? Are you sure?”
“Yes babygirl—” Namjoon let out a low chuckle. “You know, this actually came up when Hobi and I fessed up to each other.”
With a tilt of your head, the other man took over and continued, “Yeah, he asked ‘but what if she, in some way, ends up returning both of our feelings? What do we do?’.” Hoseok gave his friend a grin. “I couldn’t bring myself to screw over my guy like that so I brought up, well, this.”
Namjoon shook his head, rubbing the back of your hand with a thumb. “I thought he was messing with me so I got mad until I saw how serious he was. We considered it and well, we weren’t really against it. In a way, we were feeling kind of selfish—” That dimpled smile of his returned. “Better to have the two of us than to see you with someone else.”
Each word that came out of their mouths only escalated your elation, your lips curling up more and more until most of your teeth were showing. Words alone couldn’t express how joyful you were right now. You let go of their hands to pull their bodies towards yours in a group hug, wrapping your arms around as much of their torsos as you could. As their respective arms curved around your back, you whispered out, “I love you guys. So much.”
Namjoon pressed his full lips to one of your ears. “I love you too, Y/N.”
Hoseok brushed his own against the other one. “And I love you just as much, Y/N.”
“Shit, that’s it—“ Hoseok chuckled deeply at how enthusiastically you moved on him, lewd noises from your connected bodies like music to his ears. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N, taking our cocks so well, mnh—“
“M-Mhh—”
You would’ve loved to thank him if it wasn’t for Namjoon’s cock sitting in your mouth.
“Fuck, babygirl...” He panted as he watched your head bob on him, some drool starting to leak out. “You sure know how to work that pretty mouth of yours, ngh—”
Now Hoseok’s gaze went back up to what his friend mentioned, licking his lips as he remembered how it felt to be inside it earlier. It wasn’t as gratifying as your pussy, of course, but the way you swirled your tongue on him and tightened your lips had him understanding the heaven Namjoon was in right now.
“She does, doesn’t she? You been thinking about having us like this for a while, Y/N?”
Another muffled moan was what Hoseok received, making the man standing tsk and reach down to hold your hair, carefully easing you off of his length. “Answer him, baby.”
You almost pouted up at Namjoon in withdrawal but those dragon eyes fixed you with a fierce stare that urged you to follow through.
“M-Mhm...for too long.”
Both men twitched at your admission, eyes lidding even further.
“Oh yeah? Do you touch yourself when you think about us, darling?” Hoseok slid his hands down to grope your ass, grunting at how you clenched on him. “Do you work that little pussy over until you come?”
“O-Oh— Yes Hobi...”
“Fuck— I thought I heard suspicious noises coming from your room at night...” Namjoon reached down for your hand, guiding it to wrap around his cock. “Wish we knew what the deal was, we would have shown you just what we’ve been wanting to do to you, baby.”
A whimper fell from your lips at his words as you started stroking his slick skin. “J-Joonie...”
Namjoon grunted at the friction, moving his hips in time. “If only you knew how much we wanted you, Y/N...we would’ve let you do anything to us.”
“Fuck, guys— I would’ve let you do the same too, ah!”
Hoseok groaned as he thrusted hard in response. “Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so considerate, so caring...”
You were distracted by all of the other sensations and jolted when you felt the tip of a long finger circling your puckered hole.
“H-Hobi!”
He sat up and let a sensual chuckle out against your ear. “I wonder if you’d be able to take one of us back here one of these days? Would you be into that, sweetheart?”
At that, the thought of having either of their cocks filling you up in an area that had never been explored before made you whimper and tighten on Hoseok.
“Shit, really, babygirl?” Namjoon reached down to hold your chin and tip your face up towards him. “You’d let us fuck that tight ass of yours?”
“Y-Yes Joonie...ngh—”
The man standing next to you smirked and let out a short laugh, wiping away some of the spit on your lips with his thumb. “So dirty...but it’s only for us, right?”
“Yes Namjoon, only for you and Hobi, ah!”
Hoseok seemed to like that as he gave a harder thrust while pulling your hips down with a growl. “Damn straight. Maybe you’d even let us have you at the same time?”
Now the seed he was planting began making your mind go haywire, willing to try the suggestion. You loved these two to death. Had it been anyone else, you would have recoiled at the idea but you trusted Namjoon and Hoseok to take good care of you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible before even attempting such an act.
“Yes Hoseok...I would—! God, I love you two so much...”
Both men felt their hearts skip and their groins tighten at your passionate words, prompting the one under you to take your mouth into a deep kiss before the other did the same the second you were released.
Only for them you would be like this.
The three of you stayed in the embrace for what felt like a lifetime, just enjoying the touch and trying to calm the butterflies lingering in your stomachs. You were the one to break the hold though, because of something that you wanted to do.
As you sat back, you eyed both of them with your lip caught between your teeth.
“What is it, Y/N?”
“I...well—” Your face warmed at what you were about to say. “I want to kiss the both of you but...”
Hoseok’s lips quirked. “But you don’t know who to kiss first?”
All you could do was nod shyly. Amazing how they could read you like a book.
Namjoon chuckled. “It’s up to you, babygirl. I won’t get jealous.”
Hoseok reflected the sentiment, leaving you to look between the two until you made your decision.
“Namjoon...”
The gray-haired man cocked his head until you motioned him to come closer. It was adorable how his eyes widened as he looked at Hoseok first in disbelief, receiving a sunny grin and a thumbs up in encouragement. Once his gaze returned to you, Namjoon jumped a bit at how close you were to him now. He could almost feel the heat of your soft breaths on him.
But as soon as you gave him that gorgeous smile of yours, his nerves swept away.
The second his eyes relaxed, you began leaning in and closed your eyes along the way. Namjoon did the same, making a soft sound when your lips finally touched and moved against each other’s. A warmth blossomed in your chests at the kiss, spreading throughout both of your bodies and making your heads a bit dizzy. But before the two of you could get too carried away, he pulled back, running his tongue over his full lips.
“Mm...that felt so nice, Y/N...”
You shared the feeling with the same move, noticing how Namjoon’s eyes followed your tongue.
Then you felt a weight on your shoulder before a whisper sounded in your ear. “Don’t forget about me, darling.”
Turning around, you were now face to face with Hoseok, looking at you with a barely held back grin. Shooting him your own smile as well, you leaned in and saw darkness as your mouth pressed against his. His felt different from the other’s yet was just as enjoyable, especially with the low noise he let out in the middle of it. You had to force yourself to move away from this kiss too, biting your lip at the adoring gaze Hoseok gave you.
“Wow...”
A giggle escaped you at his breathless exclamation.
“Yeah...”
Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle at the display in front of him but he couldn’t shake this feeling that started building in his chest from having you kiss him. He knew what he wanted and hoped he wasn’t being too greedy with what he was about to ask.
“Y/N...” When you looked back at him, your stomach flipped at the needy look on his face. “Can you kiss me again?”
While your body was ready to fulfill his wish, your brain told you to remember that he wasn’t the only other person in the room. You looked at Hoseok with a questioning gaze. He wasted no time in nodding, speaking with a modest grin, “Only if you promise to kiss me again too.”
And with that, you indulged the both of them with endless kisses.
But the longer you kissed, the more intense they became with strokes of tongues and lip bites. These actions left a shock traveling down your spine each time, manifesting into an uncomfortable heat between your thighs. Having two pairs of lips constantly touching yours and feeling their hands occasionally roaming on your waist and hips had you feeling incredibly turned on.
“Y/N...”
Opening your eyes as you pulled back from Hoseok’s kiss, your breath hitched at how the mood in his dark eyes shifted into something less innocent. “Yes Hobi?”
“You’re really liking this right now, aren’t you?”
With that, he peered down to your thighs subtly rubbing together for friction.
“Y-Yeah...”
You heard Namjoon take in a sharp inhale as he scooted closer from behind, resting his chin on your left shoulder as he looked down at your legs. “You keep squirming, babygirl...are you wet, too?”
You held back a whimper at how his voice lowered even further with his question. “I am, Namjoon...sorry, I can’t help it.”
The two men let out an incredulous laugh at your apology before Hoseok took your right hand and pressed it to the stiffness lying underneath his pants. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize for a damn thing.”
As if your face wasn’t hot enough from palming his erection, Namjoon held your other one and brought it behind you to lie on top of his own, chuckling at the soft gasp you let out. “Yeah, you think we’re not just as turned on?”
Now your underwear received a fresh wave of wetness at what laid under your palms, glad to know you weren’t the only one being affected by the kissing. But now you wondered whether anything would happen to help the situation.
“Joonie, Hobi...” The groans they let out when you gave them a squeeze was like music to your ears. “Do you...do you think we should do something about it?”
Hoseok and Namjoon looked at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. It took a minute before the former responded to you.
“Sweetheart...if you’re okay with it, then yes.”
“Yeah, don’t feel pressured, you’re not obligated to do anything. Just know that we want you just as bad and we’ll understand if you say no.”
But that was the thing; your answer was nowhere near that.
“Namjoon. Hoseok.”
The two looked at you, prompting you to give each of them a flustered gaze.
“I’ve dreamt about this for so long...I want it. I want to know what the both of you feel like.”
With your words lingering with desire, both men nodded and leant in, ready to give you what you wanted.
For a while, you didn’t know exactly what was going on.
All you could feel was skin, wandering hands, wet lips and strong grips.
All you could hear were whispers, groans and moans of your name.
This was a dream come true.
Namjoon found his end getting closer and closer with each second that passed, the visual of you helping it speed up.
Even his wildest dreams couldn’t conjure up the exact image of your lips wrapped around his cock and the feel of your moans as you bounced on Hoseok’s lap.
Hoseok was in the same dilemma, the sounds from his mouth becoming more frequent and harsh.
You kept squeezing his cock every moment and coated it with your arousal, leaving a bit of a mess between your hips while he watched you suck off Namjoon up above.
And as for you, you weren’t faring much better.
The knot in your lower stomach was tightening more and more as the men pleasured you, giving praises and encouragement that brought you closer to the edge.
Forcing yourself to pull off of Namjoon’s dick, you quickly made up for the absence by wrapping your hand around him, stroking with enough force and speed to keep those groans falling from his lips still.
“Sh-Shit, guys, I-I’m...”
With your whine, the two of them twitched and got to work with helping you out, Hoseok with his sudden change in pace and Namjoon with his gruff words.
“That’s it, beautiful, keep going— Let us see that pretty face of yours when you come...”
“H-Hah, Namjoon...”
“You’re fucking amazing, Y/N—” Hoseok grinned deviously at the sharp cry you let out a certain thrust he gave. “You’ve been treating us so well, you deserve a reward...wanna feel this pussy squeezing me—”
Their dirty talk helped immensely but it still wasn’t enough. You just kept letting them speak to you, making sure to keep your hand moving on Namjoon until a deep thrust from Hoseok made you yelp and pull a little too hard. Immediately, you heard a long groan rip from Namjoon’s mouth.
“O-Oh fuck, Y/N—!”
Too focused on the way Hoseok was pounding into you, you let out a startled gasp when you felt something warm and wet splash on your face repeatedly. You didn’t get the chance to look and see what it was when the man underneath you gasped and dug his fingers into your hips as he buried his cock inside of you.
“S-Shit, sweetheart, I— Ah!”
And then you felt something of the same consistency filling up your pussy, moaning shakily at the heat coating your walls.
“O-Oh Hobi...ah...”
For the next minute, you remained steady with a palm on Hoseok’s chest while your other hand was loosely wrapped around Namjoon’s cock still. You could feel the muscles underneath you heaving while the length between your fingers gave minuscule twitches. But your eyes darted between both of their faces, glowing with sweat and relief, lips parted as harsh breaths escaped.
“Fuck, Namjoon, did you have to do that on her face?”
“I-I didn’t mean to! Shit, I’m so sorry, babygirl, are you okay?”
Namjoon took your chin into one of his large hands, an embarrassed and apologetic look on his face as his eyes ran over the trails of his come. “Really, it was an accident, your hand pulled too hard and I-I just lost it— Here, let me get you a tissue.”
He let go of your head and turned to grab the box on the coffee table, only to swear when he realized it was empty. Namjoon ran off to the kitchen instead (but not before bumping his shin into the corner of the table) in search of something to clean you with. Which left you alone with Hoseok.
“Pft, I can’t believe he came on your face.”
You looked down to see the lavender-haired man giving you an amused smile, eyeing the mess with a shaking head.
“Neither can I...I mean, it was an accident but I wasn’t expecting that.”
Hoseok chuckled weakly. “Good ol’ clumsy Joon.”
You failed to hold back your giggle as you smacked his chest with the back of your hand. “Hobi, be nice. You think you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position?”
“I wouldn’t have. But...” His teeth flashed as he smirked up at you. “You do look pretty with come all over your face, bet it’d look even better with mine on it too.”
The thought of it made your throbbing walls give a clench around his softening dick, pulling a grunt from him.
“Fuck, you didn’t come yet, did you?”
Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. Hoseok was about to respond when Namjoon returned, a paper towel in his hand. He bent down and carefully cleaned up your face, giving you a dimpled smile when he was done.
“There, all better.”
You giggled and reached up to give his short hair a ruffle. “Thank you Joonie.”
Namjoon nodded and tossed the soiled sheet into the nearby trashcan. He took notice of the odd look on Hoseok’s face, still looking at your face in thought.
“What’s up, Hobi?”
Hoseok gave the other a stern look. “She didn’t come yet.”
Namjoon’s eyes widened, realizing that he was right. Even if he didn’t say anything, he could tell by the way your body trembled and your hips kept shifting.
“Shit...babygirl, we’ve gotta take care of you now.”
You couldn’t hold back the shakiness of your voice as you pleaded, “Please guys, I need to come, please!”
The emotion you gave only solidified their resolve, prompting Hoseok to take action first.
“Namjoon, sit behind her.”
Namjoon didn’t question his friend, trusting him and obliging as he sat down on the couch. The second he was down, Hoseok held your hips and lifted you off of him, making you whine at the loss until it turned into a squeak when he nearly tossed you to recline against Namjoon’s muscled body. Before you could ask him what that was for, the man behind you leaned down and cooed in your ear, “Shh, baby, just sit back and relax.”
His words effectively shut you up, along with Hoseok spreading your legs as far as possible. The lavender-haired man kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his head down to be eye level with your entrance, watching as his come slowly leaked out of it.
“I don’t know which would look better, my come dripping out of you or painted on your beautiful face.”
You felt Namjoon chuckle. “I’m sure they’re both amazing sights.”
“Hmph, true. But enough talking—”
You couldn’t brace yourself enough for Hoseok’s mouth latching onto you, pulling a cry from your throat.
“H-Hoseok—!”
“Shh, shh—” Now Namjoon brought his hands up to begin playing with your breasts, running over them in the way you liked. “It feels good, doesn’t it, babygirl?”
“Y-Yes—”
You wanted to watch Hoseok’s head moving between your shaking legs and Namjoon’s broad hands rolling your nipples but this was all just too much.
All you could do was lie back, close your eyes and let your lovers take care of you.
Everything they were doing was leading up to the orgasm that had kept escaping you, causing your body to writhe between theirs, moans and cries filling the living room.
“I-I’m going t-to, a-ah—!”
“Y/N—”
You heard Hoseok’s raspy voice sound when he pulled off of you for a second.
“H-Hoseok...”
“Y/N—”
You then heard Namjoon’s gruff voice in your right ear as he gave your breasts a strong grope.
“N-Namjoon!”
You were so close.
“Y/N—”
“Y/N, Y/N, wake up!”
Your eyes flew open at the almost frantic delivery of your name but instead of seeing Namjoon and Hoseok’s faces filled with lust, you saw them filled with worry.
“H-Huh?”
Namjoon let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, you woke up.”
Hoseok nodded, heart-shaped lips downturned. “Yeah, I was about to go get some ice water to throw on you!”
Woke up? But you didn’t fall asleep on them, not when you were so close to a mind-blowing orgasm. What were they talking about?
You shifted yourself, about to sit up, until your hand brushed against something soft and fuzzy. Looking down, you saw one of your stuffed animals lying right next to you. What was Mr. Peachy doing out here on the couch?
Pouting, you noticed that Ms. Pon Pon was also here, lying on the familiar light-colored blanket as well.
…wait.
Light-colored blanket? But the couch was dark leather.
Now you really opened your eyes, looking around to see that you were not on the living room couch but in the comfort of your own bed.
…wait.
Was it all a dream?!
Judging by the fact that your roommates were still fully clothed and eyeing you with concern (mixed with something else) and your panties were still on and uncomfortably soaked, yes.
It was all a dream.
You could cry right now.
But instead of doing that and alarming the two men further, you let out a whining groan before starfishing on the bed. “God-fucking-dammit.”
“Uh, Y/N…?”
“S-Sorry guys...I, um, was having an...interesting dream.”
Hoseok raised a brow. “It sounded interesting...we could hear you from outside your door.”
Remembering just what you were saying before you had a rude awakening, your head darted up to look between the two men with slight worry. “What, um, what did you hear?”
Now they became flustered, refusing to look anywhere but your face. Namjoon got the courage to speak first, scratching the back of his head.
“We heard you, well, saying our names...”
“More like moaning them...”
“Hoseok!” Namjoon hissed at the other, smacking him on the arm. “We agreed we weren’t going to say anything to embarrass her!”
“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! I just...” Hoseok’s face reddened in the light of your lamp. “Never heard you say them like that before.”
You were looking at the lavender-haired man while he explained, biting your lip at the way his eyes seemed to darken now.
“Oh...I’m sorry guys, I...you must feel really uncomfortable right now.”
You expected them to tease you or laugh it off but all you got was silence. Which prompted you to look between the two, breath catching at their expressions.
Hoseok still had that look on his face, his gaze often landing between your pressed together thighs with an intensity that made you wetter. Namjoon had a little more restraint but it couldn’t conceal the way his eyes lidded, lingering on your breasts and the pebbled nipples poking through your sleep shirt.
“Guys?”
Your call made them both jump, eyes widening.
“O-Oh, uh...”
Wanting to leave this awkward situation (and provide some relief to yourself), you clambered off the bed and stood to give them a shaky smile. “I-I’m gonna go take a shower and head back to bed. Thanks for checking up on me!”
But before you could take more than two steps forward, Namjoon and Hoseok blocked you off.
“Y/N.”
Looking up at their faces in confusion, you gasped quietly at the lustful expressions on them.
“J-Joonie? H-Hobi?”
“Were you dreaming about us?”
Your jaw could have fallen off with how much it dropped at Namjoon’s question.
“Wh-What? Why would you—”
“Don’t lie, sweetheart.” Hoseok stepped around to stand behind you, barely a centimeter between your bodies as he leaned down to husk in your ear. “You were moaning our names like we were making you feel good.”
“Yeah—” Namjoon moved in to hold your chin, tilting it up so you could look directly into his dragon eyes. “And we can see how wet you are, you’re soaking through your damn shorts.”
...so that wasn’t your imagination.
“I...”
“Answer us, babygirl.”
They didn’t seem to be angry at the possibility so you gathered your courage and nodded in his grip.
“Yeah...I was dreaming about you two.”
You could hear the both of them take in a sharp breath at your confession.
“Fuck, Y/N...you want us too?”
“Too? You mean...?”
“Yes baby...” Namjoon leaned down to hover his face in front of yours. “Has it not been obvious?”
Was it? You just assigned their affection as platonic, not wanting to set yourself up for inevitable disappointment. But judging by the way they were pressed against you right now...
“I...I was never sure.”
Hoseok laughed behind you, sensual instead of his usual rowdy one. “I guess we should have been a little more clearer, eh Joon?”
“Yeah, to think our poor Y/N has been missing out all this time—” Those dimples couldn’t soften the sharpness of his smirk. “We’re not very considerate roommates, are we?”
You felt the fire of your arousal rekindling as they spoke alongside sparks lighting in your chest at the acknowledgment that yes, Namjoon and Hoseok really did feel the same.
“Then...can you two help me? I...” You rested your hands on Namjoon’s firm chest while you pushed your ass back against Hoseok’s crotch. “I can’t take it anymore, it hurts so much.”
Two groans were your reward, along with hands grabbing your hips and another set cupping your face.
“Of course, Y/N.”
“Why don’t you show us exactly what we were doing in your little dream, darling?”
With a grin, you motioned the two to get on your bed, ready to relay each and every detail to them.
All you knew was that if this was yet another dream, Mr. Sandman better let you come before he brought you back to reality.
©bangtanintotheroom, 2022. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.
#drabble request#kim namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x you#kim namjoon x y/n#rm x reader#rm x you#rm x y/n#jung hoseok x reader#jung hoseok x you#jung hoseok x y/n#jhope x reader#jhope x you#jhope x y/n#namseok#bts#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#kim namjoon smut#kim namjoon angst#kim namjoon fluff#jung hoseok smut#jung hoseok angst#jung hoseok fluff#btshoneyhive#btswritersclub#btsdreamcourt
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My Review on the Miraculous Movie
I’ve divided the review into sections with a final personal statement on it at the end. Spoilers ahead!!! Obviously.
Animation: 10/10
Absolutely gorgeous. Probably the most stunning animated film I’ve ever seen. The glow, the mist, the kwamis, the setting, fucking exceptional. Chloe’s hair especially was gorgeous. The sheer amount of detail that went into every frame is admirable. Everyone who worked on the animation deserves a massive raise.
Character Designs: 9/10
Of course most of the characters remained the same, besides the change in animation style. Like I mentioned above, I adored Chloe’s hair. Her dress at the end of the movie was also so glamorous. Marinette’s ladybug themed dress suited her so well, she looked beautiful.
The Mime and the Magician are also worth mentioning. Mime was so buff? Definitely gonna end up on thirst edits on TikTok. The magician too… very thicc…
Gabriel all disheveled waiting for Adrien to come home was so weird to see. But I liked it. His Hawkmoth suit as well was so refreshing. I couldn’t stand Shadowmoth and Monarch in seasons 4 and 5. Nice to see him again. The wings on the final fight too, mesmerising.
Emilie looked extremely different from her version in the show. I’m not sure which version I prefer. I loved her curly ponytail when she was on the stage.
Characters dialogue/actions: 6/10
Unfortunately I did have some problems with some of the minor behaviour changes in some of the characters. Specifically Adrien and Plagg. Plagg was funny in some parts (didn’t know Kwami’s could get gassy) but in others he was a bit of a dick? I can’t really explain it but there was just an off vibe with him.
Adrien also was slightly different. I actually loved seeing him stand up to Gabriel. Very much needed. I didn’t really like how distant he was with Marinette for most of the film. The Adrien we know and love from the series finds her awkwardness funny and I quote, “charming”. This was less so implied in the film. He was weirded out.
Chat Noir being extra cocky when he first met Ladybug was fucking hilarious though, I loved it. Made me giggle.
Pacing: 7/10
The pacing was mostly good… aside from the Adrienette scenes. They felt rushed. That’s all I really have to comment on this part. The film wasn’t slow though, which is a massive problem in the industry these days. I like how you were just thrown straight into it, no waiting around. As someone who zones out a fair bit, and very easily, I didn’t find the film drawn out.
Voice acting: 10/10
Exceptional. The voice actors never fail to disappoint. Especially Bryce Papenbrook and Keith Silverstein. Bryce singing “Cat Noir” in the Notre Dame scene was so funny.
And I’m sorry, Keith Silverstein’s fucking singing? I’m gonna dedicate a section to the singing but come on, worth mentioning here too.
The ending where he finds out his son is Chat Noir, made me sob. It was so well animated and acted, that I was uncontrollably sobbing.
Christina Vee also never fails to amaze me.
Chloe did sound different in this film, but it was somewhat refreshing. Her tone was less whiney like it became in season 4 and 5 of the show (I blame the writing for that though).
Songs/Singing: 7/10
I feel slightly conflicted on this subject.
Yes, the singing is good. The songs didn’t make me cringe like most musicals do. Will definitely be listening to Hawkmoth’s song again.
However… the drastic change between Marinette’s dialogue and her singing was hard to take seriously. I wish they voice matched her a little better. Adrien’s sounded different too, but it was more believable than Marinette’s. I had Monster High flashbacks from …that… film.
ANYWAY Keith FUCKING Silverstein? My jaw DROPPED. Fucking amazing.
Same with Tikki! Her singing parts were so enjoyable.
Story: 8/10
Overall, the story is good. There are some tweaks I would personally make. But I definitely prefer Jeremy ZAG’s version over Astruc’s. While there are some beautiful plots and stories lurking about in Astruc’s version, if I had to choose, I would pick ZAG’s take on it.
I will make a likes and dislikes list on some of the changes.
Likes:
- Adrien actually says “my mum died”. In the show he always just says “disappeared” or “went away”. I’m not sure if that’s just some odd Disney censorship though. But in this version, he actually says she’s dead.
- Chloe. Just Chloe. She was kind of iconic. Wasn’t over the top like she is in the show.
- Subtle hints of Nino’s feelings for Alya. They weren’t completely subtle obviously, but I like the simplicity.
- Gabriel having a fucking bob, HAHAHSHAH.
- Emilie Agrest being a stage actor
- “Watermelon”.
- Plagg being gassy
- Adrien having balls and yelling at his dad
- The way the butterfly miraculous was portrayed
- Careless whisper
- Gabriel finding out his son his Chat Noir. Like, that is the best. His reaction was beautiful, in a way? I don’t like how in the show he got off basically scot-free, and never found out his son was the hero he was fighting against, and vice versa.
Dislikes:
- Marinette having 0 friends… not even Rose, Juleka and Mylene. Sick of the loser hero trope.
- Plagg being a little condescending towards Adrien
- Adrien rejecting Marinette after Ladybug rejected him - like bestie go for the opportunity to discover new things with someone else
Overall rating: 7.5/10
Felt like 7 was too low, but 8 was too high. Don’t get me wrong, I love this film. I’ve already watched it multiple times by the time I’ve written this. Now I look at films with two different perspectives: average viewer and critic. So my final ratings always have a fair balance. If the film has a good premise, I usually enjoy it. It’s the execution of it that really matters however.
I’ve always thought miraculous has a good premise. The execution in the show… is another review I can make. In the film, it’s certainly improved. Not perfect, but improved. What made the film so great came down to the animation, songs, and character interactions. The changes made impacted the film massively, and I love most of them.
The ending where Adrien and Marinette go to kiss and then it cuts to “the end” was very rage inducing. Personally I can’t stand those types of teasing. However the next scene with Nathalie, made up for that. Having the film end on sort of a cliffhanger was unexpected I must say. I knew they’d tease at Emilie being under the Agrest mansion, but not in the way they did. Plus, she was wearing the peacock miraculous. I loved that. Even with the reveal of identities they’ve still left room for a sequel. For this franchise, I don’t think a sequel to the movie will hurt. It can’t be nowhere near as messy as the series, as the film has already proved it is not.
To anyone, in or out of the fandom, I recommend you watch the film. Definitely worth it.
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous the movie#miraculous awakening#tales of ladybug and cat noir#movie review#miraculous movie review#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#gabriel agreste#chat noir#ladybug#ladynoir#adrienette#miraculous spoilers
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Missed Target
Steve Harrington x Reader (Part I)
Synopsis: After having a crush on Steve for so long, you decide to confess after everything is sorted with Vecna, but fate doesn’t seem to be on your side this time around
Warning: Angsty at first but has a happy ending
•~•
“Fucking hell, Robin be careful” I screech just as Robin nearly toppled over a specifically branchy part of the upside down forest. We can’t exactly have her attracting any wild sort of beasts while we make our way to the Creel house
“Sorry sorry- where’s Steve and Nancy?” She asked me, peering over my shoulder. Looking back as well, I curse when I realize that the pair wasn’t behind us anymore
“Stay here, I’ll try to walk back and look for them” Walking back to the way we came from, I can’t help but get worried. Whether or not it was because Steve was alone with Nancy or if it was because they were somewhere in the upside down; I don’t know. All I know is that I’m worried.
My unrequited crush on Steve was no secret- to everyone but Steve and Nancy at least. Even Munson immediately found out about my crush on him after just being around us for a few days! And it really didn’t help that he and Robin seem to see the same thing I did- which was that a old burnt out spark between Steve and Nancy was possibly being lit up again.
“Shit” I mutter when I nearly tripped over a branch, shushing myself immediately when I hear voices. Following the sound of the familiar soothing voice, I find myself spying on Steve and Nancy’s conversation. I know I should’ve walked away or maybe broke it apart, but I couldn’t. Not when he was professing his love and dream of six kids and a white fenced house with the perfect girl.
He was literally the definition of ‘If it isn’t with you then I don’t want it’ which usually would make my heart throb, but in this case it did nothing but bring me pain. In fact, if you listen close enough, you could hear the small pieces of my heart shattering to pieces.
I wasn’t like Nancy, that much was obvious. I took good care of my grades and stuff and had my own share of big dream, but I didn’t style my hair every single day or dressed up in skirts and dresses, making sure I looked the utmost best in every day - no, I was just me. Plain old me, so it really wouldn’t - or rather shouldn’t shock me if Steve still loves Nancy
“Guys!” I hear Robin pant “Where were you? Y/n was just-”
“I’m here!” I shouted, making myself look like I had been walking for a while. I don’t miss the slightly annoyed look that Steve had on his face for Robin ruining the moment between them. And for once, I’m glad that she came at the wrong times.
“Let’s do this”
•~•
Everything was a blur after Vecna’s vines closed around our neck. All I know is that when I opened my eyes, I was back in Hawkins at the school. I was wearing the same old outfit I used to wear when I was class president. Walking through the halls of the buzzling high school, I run to solitude in the girls bathroom when I freeze.
Giggling. I heard giggling, but not just any normal giggling. This was Steve and Nancy in the bathroom together. Running out of there immediately, I slow down when I realized that the school was now empty and... dark.
“Y/n” I heard a deep voice drawl from somewhere in the halls of the school and I make a run for it “Why would you wish for Steve and Nancy to break up when she was your friend?”
I run faster when the voice became louder and louder, it starting to morph into Steve’s voice
“Why would you want me to leave the love of my life Y/n? Don’t you love me?”
“Go away!” I scream, seeing the exit of the school and pushing my legs to run faster
“It’s your time Y/n. You can’t run from your fate”
“Go to hell, you no nosed freak!” I shout, rattling the doors open, but they just wouldn’t budge “No! Fuck you!” I scream and shake when I felt myself getting lifted and turned. When I open my eyes once more, I am no longer alone in the safety net of my school, but instead I’m facing the monster we were here to kill.
“You and your little friends thought Max was the only one I’m after” Vecna cackled “That was the first mistake in your already flawed plan to kill me”
“No,” I struggled as vines wrapped themselves around my body “Stop it! Please!” His hand came closer to my head, tilting it back as I slowly felt my bones begin to shake and my eyes black out. Was this really the end for me? Was I never truly meant for happy endings? Maybe this was for the best, but what about Steve? And Dustin?
I feel liquid starting to drip from my eyes and feel as my bones begin to get dislocated. All I can hope now is that the group is able to defeat this clock obsessed weirdo. One casualty for the sake of the many
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things oneshot#steve harrington x reader oneshot#steve harrington x y/n#angst#fluff#steve harrington angst#nancy wheeler#vecna#hawkins#stranger things steve
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Sneak Peak for HSY Ch 9
Hey folks! As expected, the past month has been particularly challenging. To quote one of my favorite song at the moment, "I'm on my last fucking leg." I hope you enjoy this snippet of the chapter to come!
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Luo Binghe held Shen Yuan’s hand as they entered the throne room. The cavernous space went instantly silent as his husband, Empress, beloved and equal stood beside him, powerful and precious and unique. He had been sure to dress them in imperial colors but conceded to Shen Yuan’s preference for his usual style of robes rather than anything more complicated. But diamonds and rubies surrounded the rare black heart stone of the Hidden Desert Tar Dragon which decorated his husband’s hair. He had slain the beast specifically for the centerpiece of his Empress’ crown and the result in his moonlit hair was breathtaking.
Black fan decorated with red lotus’ held at his waist, Shen Yuan held his head high as he looked over his subjects for the first time. Luo Binghe led him to their dais and twin thrones, awed and so very proud to be his husband, to be able to give him this. Whether he wanted it or not, Shen Yuan deserved a kingdom of his own. Should not all who swore loyalty to Luo Binghe bend a knee to the man he loved above all? To the one who had supported the realm without knowing and who carried its heir?
Binghe was the most powerful being in this world, and he was weak to the man beside him. There was no higher honor for him than to be Shen Yuan’s husband and father of his child.
The court knew well enough what was expected of it. The last few weeks had been busy for Luo Binghe as he announced his impending wedding and dissolution of his harem. He had hoped to have it be a surprise for when Shen Yuan finally arrived here, but his younger counterpart had pushed him to reveal it sooner than he had wanted. He had no need of the women he had married, and most of them had no need of him outside of financial and physical security. He gave them all stipends and the ones who were loyal and wished to serve the realm were welcome to join his administration.
There were exceptions, of course. The Little Palace Mistress was not amenable to being divorced or there being an Empress who was not her. He asked her if she would attempt to harm his Empress and she immediately said yes.
It wasn’t his fault she was too much of a fool to understand he would kill her for that.
She had been one of his “favorite” wives (whatever that meant now), so her death set an example to others. They bowed out gracefully, while others were eager to learn what they could actually do rather than sit around and look pretty.
The most competent of them would be the first to greet their Empress, with the exception of Mobei-Jun. His general was elsewhere at the moment.
Shen Yuan fanned himself lightly and said, silently with their ongoing communication spell, “Do they know I’m pregnant?”
“No,” he promised him. “I wished to wait until you wanted to make the announcement.”
Shen Yuan didn’t respond to that beyond lightly squeezing Binghe’s fingers. He led them up the few necessary stairs to their thrones and then stopped in front of them, with Shen Yuan standing to his right.
He turned to the assembled demon and human nobles and grinned. “This Lord is proud to present Empress Shen Qingqiu to his court. He is this Lord’s first and only husband, his equal. An insult to him is an insult to this Lord, and will be less tolerated. His word is law. He is sovereign here and all are expected to swear an oath of fealty to him.
“Now, greet your Empress.”
Most of the room got to their knees and kowtowed to the throne, intoning, “Greetings, Empress Shen.”
But a few did not. The most powerful of Luo Binghe’s vassals, even one of his governors recalled for the occasion, did not bow to Shen Yuan.
And that enraged him.
“You dare?” He said quietly, his voice carrying enough malice to make people shiver in fear despite the low volume.
“Husband.” Luo Binghe looked at Shen Yuan who seemed contemplative.
“Yes?”
“These are the ones who you conquered by force, yes?” He, rather impressively, listed the names of the lords standing and their kingdoms accurately. “They only obeyed when forced, correct?”
“My Empress is wise,” he said, just a bit intimidated by Shen Yuan’s ability to recall details considering that he had never spoken in detail about every principality and dominion represented by the still standing demons.
“Hmm,” Shen Yuan closed his fan and tapped it against his chin for a moment, eyes surveying the court. Then, astonishingly, he said lightly, “Which of them is the least useful to us at the moment?”
A ripple of unease went through the room as Luo Binghe thought through the question, trusting Shen Yuan to know what he was doing. It took a moment, but Luo Binghe landed on saying, “Donghai-Jun.”
Luo Binghe had kept a close eye on the trade in the east after conquering the sea-faring clan, knowing their loyalty changed with the shifting tides. Once he understood who Shen Yuan would be to him, he worked to secretly undermine their dominance of control in the region, needing to be able to wipe them out in a moment if they proved troublesome.
Now, their presence in court was at his pleasure. They were aware of a decrease in local business but not the extent to which Luo Binghe had trapped them in their own web of lies and loyalties. He could make use of others, but them? A liability in waiting but one he would let survive as long as they stayed in line.
Refusing to bow to his Empress was not what he considered obedient.
“Very well. This Lord challenges Donghai-Jun to a duel.”
What.
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The end of this Skype meeting from hell was rapidly approaching, and Shiro was so close to relief he could taste it.
The team was attempting alliance negotiations with a new planet, but the entire planet was so incredibly toxic to Alteans that they felt it may be best to just have their meeting over a video communications link. Was it as shitty quality as a Skype call? God, no. The quality was incredible, Shiro could probably count every visible pore on the Queen’s face. But the plastic smiles and unbearable tension known of office-style Skype calls were evident, so Shiro was going to continue calling it a Skype in his head. The ‘from hell’ part of the description was due to the discomfort crawling up everyone’s throat — this Queen in particular was known to be temperamental and easy to offend, so everyone was walking on eggshells.
“Well, I believe that everything is in order,” said the Queen. Finally.
Some of the tension bled from Allura’s shoulders, and her smile turned genuine.
“Excellent! I’ll send you the forms —”
“One last thing,” interrupted the Queen. Allura’s smile froze, and her eye twitched. There was quite possibly nothing she hated more than being interrupted, and there wasn’t even anything she could do about it.
“Of course,” Allura replied through gritted teeth.
“Wonderful,” went the Queen, equally as passive aggressive.
Not for the first time, Shiro wished Adam was here. He was the master of passive aggression. He would have this bitch beat in minutes.
“Paladin Hunk,” continued the Queen, turning her gaze on the Yellow Paladin, who jumped slightly upon being called so abruptly but schooled his expression into a pleasant one.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I’ve heard you are quite the culinary master. Many of my people had the pleasure of tasting your food at Vrepit Sal’s, and have spoken endlessly of how you turned his food from failed embarrassments to pure edible pleasure.”
Hunk smiled, clearly pleased that his efforts were so widely recognized. Some of the wariness lifted from his features. “That’s very kind of them to say.”
The Queen nodded. “Yes. I figured since you are so knowledgeable, you may be able to help me with a problem of mine. My —” her lip curled — “stepson has insisted that we each take turns cooking ‘family’ dinners ourselves instead of hiring a cook. I can’t fathom why the foolish child would ever want such a thing, but my husband insists we indulge him, and I’ve never had to bother with such petty tasks myself before, so my first attempt was a disaster,” she huffs, shaking her head. “I had to force the ingrate to eat it because he insisted on me making it, but he complained the whole time it was too salty. And so my question for you: how can I fix a dish when it is too salty?”
Hunk’s face had completely soured, and his wasn’t the only one. Hearing this already entitled and rude Queen speak so horribly about her young stepson was hard to hear, and made it very difficult to want to help her or her planet.
Hunk paused before answering, face flat and judgemental. “Start over,” he said drily.
Shiro choked. The Queen’s — now furious — face whipped towards him, and Shiro clapped a hand in front of his mouth.
Fuck fuck fuck. Think of unfunny things. Uh, Iverson’s constant stories of his summer in Italy when he was 14. Nuclear physics. Literally anything but the sound of Lance losing his shit or you’re going to lose it too. You have a reputation, dingus, please please focus.
With the strength of a thousand suns, Shiro managed to choke down his laughter, despite the shaking shoulders and rapidly reddening faces of the rest of the team.
“So sorry about that,” Shiro said, voice shaking. “Tickle, in my throat. Ahem. Shall we send you the forms?”
The Queen glared at them, taking a moment to glare at Hunk specifically. He looked entirely unbothered, pretending to check his nails. Lance was a mess of desperately held-in giggles on the floor next to him. Keith was turning purple with the attempt to keep his mouth shut. Pidge had completely given up and turned so her back faced the Queen, fist shoved in her mouth.
“Fine,” the Queen spat. “I’ve tired of Voltron’s blatant disregard for professionalism, anyway. And to think the maturity and grace of that Black Paladin is talked about at every interplanetary gala. Phooey. Send the forms to my handmaidens.”
The Skype ended.
There was a beat of silence.
Shiro glanced at Allura. Their eyes met for one half second.
Shiro lost it. Completely bent over at the waist, wheezing, barely able to breathe. Over the sound of his own laughter he heard Allura giggling as well, along with the rest of the team. Hunk surveyed them all, smirking like the cat that got the cream.
Shiro doesn’t know what he’s gonna do with these damn kids.
———
more of shiro being a loveable loser here
#i think this is funny so#vld#voltron#shiro#takashi shirogane#hunk#hunk garrett#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#allura#princess allura#pidge#pidge holt#space dad shiro#dad shiro#big brother shiro#humour#team shenanigans#team as family#my writing#fic fragment
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Stand-up shows I’ve seen in the last few days:
David O’Doherty – hour-long set at Access Festival 2024
This was lovely, as I’d expected and looked forward to. I don’t think it matched any particular Edinburgh show he did, as it was a mix of old and new material. Or at least, it was a mix of stuff by him that I knew already and stuff I didn’t. I don’t know how new the stuff I didn’t recognize was, because I haven’t found a recording of any of his stand-up since 2020. So this had some stuff from his 2020 album (which was meant to be his 2020 tour show, but then wasn’t, because of you know, the thing) and some stuff from some general time more recent than that.
I enjoyed it so much. I think DO’D’s style, of being just easygoing and open and warm and all those other nice words (but there is an edge and a depth to a lot of his stuff, and almost none of what he does can accurately be called “whimsical”, as I’d like to tell some of the people who review him), is pretty nicely suited to Zoom gigs. Comedy shows that are just one person performing to a camera are often fucking awkward, but DO’D seems so comfortable with what he’s doing that it’s really easy to forget about the awkwardness of it and just feel like you’re sitting in his living room listening to his stories. It gives me the same feeling that I get when I listen to all his comedy albums, which is that something about the way DO’D talks make it impossible to have your guard up when you listen to him. You just relax and enjoy it, and sometimes he uses that to make it more of a surprise when he turns up the tension, and to create that effect he must be doing all kinds of things that I can’t even recognize but I enjoy it so much.
This show had a mix of things. He did his History of Ireland routine that he also did on that one Bugle episode and is excellent. Some stuff about his father that I’d heard before, but also some stuff that I hadn’t heard before, so that was interesting. A sprinkling of references to a breakup, but only a sprinkling. That mouse song from his 2020 album. I think my favourite part of it that I’d not heard before was a song about things being inconvenient that started out mundane and then went pretty dark and climate change-y, progressing at a DO’D-esque pace. A little bit of musing on cultural toxic masculinity stuff. A new one to add to his rolodex of stories about the weirdly specific level of fame he has and what it’s like to get sort of recognized sometimes. And closed with the beefs song, as usual. Classic DO’D.
He's one whom I really, really hope does week 1 in Edinburgh this year, as that’s when I’ll be there. Very high on my list of people I’d most like to see live. But in the meantime, I wish he’d do more recorded gigs because he really is good at it. Just sitting comfortably and making it feel like he’s chatting with the audience, as opposed to a lot of comedians who talk really awkwardly into the camera during Zoom gigs like this is the weirdest thing in the world (to be fair, it is the weirdest thing it the world, I can’t blame most people for not having DO’D’s level of charm). Not to mention any specific names of people who do that or anything, but this week I did also watch:
The guys from Crizards split an hour, each did 30 minutes of individual material while staring really awkwardly into their respective cameras – Access Festival 2024:
It was all right. They were both all right. I like the Crizards show on YouTube and would watch another if they put it up but don’t need to go looking for more of their solo stuff.
Sarah Keyworth – Access Festival 2024
They did their 2024 show, which they’ve been working on for the last few months, and it was fucking great, I highly recommend anyone who likes this sort of thing to check it out. They filmed this the same way as last year’s Access Festival gig, and with the same sort of intense energy. Not the DO’D ease with the webcam, but not the awkwardness of a lot of other comedians either, their strategy seemed to just be really earnest and acknowledge the circumstances get the audience on their side, and it worked well both times I’ve seen them do it (Access Festival 2023 and 2024).
I’d heard bits of the material from this show before, in more disjointed forms, and it had all made me laugh a lot on its own. But at the Access Festival they did the full hour, where they tied it together and gave it a bit more of a structure and ended on some really nice callbacks, and it was just great. Really consistently funny, all the way through.
The hour covers a bunch of topics: stuff about their parents and siblings, growing up, top surgery, family stuff, coming out as non-binary, ADHD, bit of culture war stuff but dealt with in a non-tiresome way, lesbian foursomes, a number of other things. They managed to connect almost all of it to these nice themes about acceptance and what individual identity means within a community, it builds to an ending that was really nice. It’s just great. Also their whole presence is really engaging and hard to look away from, even though the awkwardness of a Zoom gig, it’s pretty good that they could have that much stage presence while sitting alone in a room talking to a webcam (I really do mean… genuinely, it’s their captivating stage presence that I’m complimenting when I say they’re a performer that’s hard to look away from, the fact that they’re extremely attractive is a separate issue).
Jessica Fostekew – Wench (2022 show that was just released by 800 Pound Gorilla)
I wrote the other day about the giant comedy folder that lives on my external hard drive, and how I can judge how much I like a comedian by how many files are in their dedicated sub-folder. I also said this rule doesn’t apply every time, and Jessica Fostekew is an example of where it really, really doesn’t. Because I only have three files in her folder: her 2018 show Silence of the Nans, her 2019 show Hench, and now her 2022 show Wench. But they were all fucking fantastic. She has to be one of the comedians with the highest ratio of how few things I have in her folder, to how much I like the things that are there. I should really check out more of her stuff.
I think Wench is my favourite show of the three, which is saying something because the other two were great. This is the first show I’ve heard her do since coming out as queer, so that’s fun, and Wench has a fair bit about that in there. Both in the form of just domestic stories about her female fiancée, and some stuff about queer identity labels and coming out and dealing with blatant homophobia as well as well-meaning ignorance.
Oh, and she did a bunch of jokes on a topic that I happen to always find hilarious, which is people asking “How do lesbians have sex?” I’m not sure if that’s still as common a question as it used to be, but in my early twenties, I used to get asked that question so often that it happened three separate times within a few years that someone asked me “Can I ask you, as a gay woman, a question?” and I, having heard this many times before and knowing what it leads to, said “I can save you the trouble of asking, the answer is with their fingers” and on two of the three times I had, in fact, correctly predicted what the question was going to be. Which I thought was the funniest thing in the world. Oh, that was also the time when it was a really common meme, at least in lesbian corners of the internet (by which I mean the Autostraddle and After Ellen websites), to take any screenshot of any two women interacting with each other in any slightly weird way and caption it “This is how lesbians have sex”. Which I also think is one of the funniest memes to cross the internet in my life so far. I don’t why I’ve always found that such a funny topic, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard jokes about it (probably because the world’s gotten more progressive and people don’t feel as comfortable asking gay women that question anymore, which is good and all, but it’s a shame it had to come at the expense of queer women getting to make jokes about the daftness of that question), so I enjoyed Jessica Fostekew bringing it back.
Anyway. The comedy show was great. She is so sharp, so incisive, can jump so fast from jokes about spraying cats with water to jokes about sex to jokes about horrifically homophobic politicians, from funny stories about her neighbours to angry rally-crying feminist screeds, and I enjoy every bit of it. Her ability to jump from one of those things to another is a bit Kiri-Pritchard McLean-esque, I think, and I mean that as high praise. It all came together nicely, it was a great hour.
Christopher McArthur Boyd – Oh No (2022 show that was just released by 800 Pound Gorilla)
To be honest, I think I went into this one with expectations that were too high, because I’d read that he was really really good, so I was a bit disappointed when the beginning of this show was fairly mundane. But it picked up once I got into it, and I liked the second half a lot better than the first. None of it made me actually laugh out loud, but he hit on some good topics and said some funny things and I see why he’s doing well. I’m definitely interested in seeing more things he’s done.
By the way, to make it a very Glasgow day, I happened to watch MacArthur Boyd just after listening to Susie McCabe’s episode of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, which just came out the other day and it was great. She’s excellent, I could listen to her talk all day and I wish she’d released more of her stand-up.
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✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)
🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?
🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?
🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?
🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?
🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?
🍭why did you start writing?
💎why is writing important to you?
I'm sorry for asking so many questions 😆🫣
No worries, I’ll tackle them! 😉 (and I’ll go with reylo answers if it’s for specific fics)
✨& 🌈- I’m combining these two questions because I think I want to say Slow Dancing in a Burning Room for both. I did work hard on this plot, including little nods to canon along with feels and angst and then bringing the whole thing full circle at the end in a way that (at least imo) was nice and satisfying. I feel like it’s one of my better reylo multi chapters but others of mine definitely did better. Idk, I kinda wonder what made that one less appealing. 🤷♀️
🍉- my short and honest answer to this is that it hasn’t. I love writing and it’s a healthy hobby for me, but it’s still not what helps me navigate the big and scary parts of life.
🎈- I tend to think my style doesn’t change. Idk how I’d describe my style, but I do usually focus mostly on what’s going on inside character’s heads and on dialogue.
🤍- I guess maybe I’d have to say I’m Ready to be Heartbroken, which is a longer one shot. It was a modern au inspired by the movie P.S. I Love You. I won’t get into the whole movie, but iykyk. It’s very bittersweet. 😭 I felt like I got the au right, and even though it wasn’t a fic that “fixed” the loss of Ben, it was meant to be cathartic and satisfying despite the tragedy. I get that’s not for everyone.
🕯️- I think I’d have to say no.
🍭- I guess it was just… in me? 😆 If you’re a natural writer I think those plots and ideas are forming from a very young age. Everything you see and read and hear gives a drive to create instead of simply entertaining you. So it was only a matter of time before the words went to paper.
💎- again, I think it’s just cuz it’s something that’s in me and it’s satisfying to use be able to enjoy it. I don’t have a ton of creative outlets, so I make the most of writing. I think it keeps my mind active too, and it can’t hurt to have a hobby like that, seeing as I’m rapidly approaching Middle Age lol.
Thanks for asking!
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stan + kyle + kenny for the character ask game!! :)
Oooooh, this is going to be a long one.. I always thought that my view of the South Park characters were pretty boring so here are my first impressions:
Kyle broflovski
Sexuality Headcanon: I personally think he’s straight, I feel like I’ll get a lot of shame because of this but I never really saw him as a bisexual man let alone a gay man😭 I’m so sorry. But on one hand I do kind of see him being a Demisexual? I don’t know if there is really that much evidence to it but I feel like him being Demisexual. I can also see Asexual Kyle too? I think he’s straight but definitely not allo.
Gender Headcanon: I think he’s a cis man, but trans boy Kyle sounds like a good headcanon? It mostly rooted from Cartman’s sexist jokes but it sounds pretty cool, I’m down for more trans rep! Even if it’s from canonically cis characters..
A ship I have with said character: Kybecca is so fuckwg cute !!!!!!! The way Kyle guides her into relationships was adorable. I also like the dynamic of a shy awkward inexperienced-in-relationships girl and a nice (a genuinely nice) guy who helps her out when it comes to relationships!!! Fucking blorbos.. I want to hold them around like 2 little kittens :( I also really see the potential in Kychole and I wish it got more recognition, it would’ve been an actually great chance for him to get a girlfriend, fuck you Cartman, like honestly.
A BROTP I have with said character: It’s probably going to be Style, of course. Their friendship is honestly very cute to watch, but it can also get a bit sad at times (ex: assburgers). I also like Tokyle, Kyutters, and Kybe as a brotp. Tolkien and Kyle being mom best friends, looking over at their insane children fighting like little chihuahuas, while talking about mom things.. hwoedhsj. And also Kyle and Bebe being best friends gossiping to each other and spilling the tea (this wasn’t my idea though). I’m a bit stuck towards Kyutters though, cause I only thought of it just now.
A NOTP I have with said character: I used to like this ship A LOT, but now I have to say it’s Kyman. I can still see the potential in One sided Kyman and I always saw it being a thing somehow, but that’s as far as I’ll go for this ship nowadays. Kyman just feels weird, and all it took was a couple of callout posts for me to eventually lose interest in it.
A random headcanon: Kyle is the most simplest guy EVER. His music taste isn’t a specific genre and it all goes down to “well I like music as long as it sounds good”. He doesn’t like a specific type of food and is just like “I like any food as long as it’s good”. He’s the least fashionable and most distasteful guy in town, and his friends (the main 4 ofc) attempted to try and get him into fashion and introduce him to different kinds of genres (whether it be music, movies, or whatever) to see which one he’d consider to be his favorite. But it NEVER worked out, he’s just that boring. (Yeah, I’m projecting onto him, what about it)?
General Opinion over said character: He’s honestly such a well developed character, he’s not exactly my fave but I can definitely understand his popularity and place in this fandom! He’s just a lil guy :)
Stanley marsh
Sexuality headcanon: I think he’s either straight or bisexual, but all I know is that he definitely went through a bicurious phase. Remember how confused he was when Wendy turned out to be trans? He was also confused about Tweek and Craig’s whole relationship! He doesn’t know where he stands on the LGBT spec but he’s still trying to figure it out.
Gender headcanon: I only thought of this just now but demiboy Stan. I also like to think he’s experimenting with his gender, and it goes down to the examples I listed trying to describe his sexuality from my perspective. He’s open to people using any pronouns on him, and I love that for him :)
A ship I have with said character: Stendy, I remember drawing Stendy A LOT over here. I still love their relationship but not as much as I used to. Although, I have to say that I still yearn for their good ol’ girlboss and malewife dynamic.. I would also consider Stolkien because their current relationship reminds me of a forbidden romance, it’s honestly interesting to look at it that way. I like to think he tries to get together with Tolkien in an attempt to open more doors for relationships, relating to his whole bicurious and gender questioning thing.
A BROTP I have with said character: Just like the brotp I have for Kyle, it’s Style. I also really like Stary as a friendship. I honestly hope that Gary might make a comeback and Stan would spend more time with him, while the rest of the main 4 gets absolutely mad they are hanging out with such a “wuss” and not with them instead >:( but unfortunately Gary is just a one and off character.
A NOTP I have with said character: I honestly don’t know what notp I have for him, I don’t seem to have any Stan ship that I actually loathe. I’m pretty sure I stated before that I LOVE ships featuring stan despite him not being my fave. Which is a bit weird to think about, but I’ll just leave it as a mere coincidence for now.
A random headcanon: Despite the fact that Stan’s goth phase was supposed to happen because of the fact Wendy broke up with him, he actually developed an interest in the goth style and still (secretly) hangs out with the goth kids. The goth kids don’t seem to mind being around him and they’re nice enough to actually guide him through the goth style! Stan REALLY enjoyed getting into it and the goth kids developed a soft spot for him, they’re a bunch of softies on the inside :( Stan would also wear a bunch of edgy black t shirts under his jacket because he just got soooooo into it. And his friends still don’t know about it, his interest in goth culture is still a secret, mostly out of fear of being ripped on.
General Opinion over said character: I honestly like him because he slightly reminds me of myself? We aren’t ENTIRELY similar but I can see myself in him. I also find a lot of his ships tasteful.
Kenny McCormick
Sexuality headcanon: I used to think he was a straight aromantic but now I can see him being pansexual, like I’m pretty sure he would love ANYTHING with titties. Him being a closeted pansexual aro is honestly very swaggy in my book. I say closeted because he literally lives in a family of rednecks, I think he’ll have to deal with a lot of internalized homophobia here. And I think it’s interesting to explore that in him! (The internalized homophobia idea was again not mine).
Gender headcanon: he’s a cis GNC man, he’s perfectly fine with identifying as a man but he loves dressing up as a princess, and he still does it from time to time!
A ship I have with said character: I don’t think I have any ship with him aside from Kenman. Their dynamic works very well and the way they laugh at each other’s jokes is so fuckeng adorable. I think their friendship should be explored more often, both in the actual show and in the fandom. There is a lot to unpack there. And also the way they carry a BFF necklace, adorable.
A BROTP I have with said character: Kenman again (I like it both romantically and platonically). I’m not used to ships with Kenny in them so I’m sorry if this is EXTREMELY bland.
A NOTP I have with said character: I’m sorry to say this but I never really found Bunny interesting.. that’s all I have to say, I’m sorry if that disappoints any of you.
Random headcanon: speaking of Kenny loving to dress as a princess, he sometimes roleplays as princesses with his little sister Karen, they come up with the most dramatic storylines ever and Kevin gets so annoyed by it sometimes and tells them to shut up. This one time Kenny and Karen stayed up all night playing dress up and they talked so loudly, that everyone woke up by the stupid annoying sounds they made. They never stopped doing it, and it was hell on earth for everyone else aside from these 2 mfs >:) I think there was also a point where all the other people around them heard it, but it was rather faint, so it took a while for everyone else to notice the loudness of it all.
General Opinion over said character: I never really thought about him, so my impression of him is a bit boring. But I’m hoping to dig more into his character if that’s what you guys want!
__________
Thank you so much for the question, it honestly got me to think more about the character’s personalities! :)
#south park#south park headcanons#sp headcanons#kyle broflovski#stanley marsh#stan marsh#kenny mccormick#fayoftheforest
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part iii of the supernatural au. part i | part ii | read on ao3.
notes: vampire!john/werewolf!jestiny back at it. i know it’s officially past spooky season, but since i did already have the rough draft of part three from posting a version of it last year, i still wanted to finish up the redux now <;33
word count: 7k
warnings: explicit nsfw in this one. vampire/werewolf styles, so extra warnings for ample biting/scratching/blood drinking during. dw no one goes full furry. johnjess styles, so semi-public. and the usual warnings for mutual emotional manipulation. john’s is at points specifically geared towards fostering dependence in jessie so as to keep her with him, so it probably deserves an extra warning on his end. jessie’s is at points specifically geared towards degrading john to purposefully cause psychological distress in order to maintain perceived control in their relationship, so it probably deserves an extra warning on — you know what they’re both just awful and shouldn’t be near each other. enjoy.
“In absolutely no way, shape, or form are you even remotely ready for this!” John hissed under his breath as he paced behind the redhead, grateful the tight cinching at the waist of the cotton dress she wore at least prevented her from transforming to outrun him if she hoped to preserve it.
“Yes,” she barked, throwing her arms up in frustration but not turning around. “I am!”
“You are not,” he spat back, slinking up to her side to march in step with her as she rounded the corner to turn onto the road leading through Fall’s End. “Not even close.”
“I am fuckin’ too,” she tossed her head to the side to snap at him. “I’ve listened to your fucking human lessons for a full fuckin’ week like we agreed.” She jerked her wrist away as he tried to reach for it, increasing the speed of her gait but still resisting any impulse she might have to transform for the time being.
Fuck, he almost wished she would lose control and shift into wolf form — at least then he would be proven right before it was too late. And her outfit would be ruined, so she’d have no choice but to come home with him rather than continue venturing into town.
“Over a week,” she added in snippy half growl, officially bringing those extra days that had been hanging uncomfortably over his head crashing down, that sinking knowledge that he was on borrowed time as he basked in her presence. “I’m ready!”
“You most certainly are not,” he reiterated firmly.
Yes, a transformation, that’s what he would have to go with. Find a a way to provoke her, make her angry enough to change forms, then herd her back home where she’d be safe, and remind her why she needed to stay there and listen to him. It was risky in and of itself given how close to town they were, and the fact at least some residents were already on alert for werewolf sightings. But it was still less risky than the alternative, and wouldn’t involve hypnotizing her. Not technically.
“Perhaps you would be ready for a small date at some other bar or restaurant, which I would be happy to oblige,” he continued, hurrying along to better watch her reactions. “But not the Spread Eagle, and not all by yourself,” he said, happy to see her upper lip curl in irritation, a sign her resolve was beginning to break. “Which is what you would be, by the way — I wasn’t lying when I told you Mary May has never once agreed to invite me inside her establishment. I can’t go with you in there. You’d be completely alone!”
“Good!” she shouted, fists balled at her sides tightly enough he couldn’t gauge the length of her claws. “I don’t need you!” she yelled while continuing to stomp forward, causing his chest to flurry with panic as she sped straight past the ‘Welcome to Fall’s End’ sign without hesitation. “You said yourself, this fuckin’ morning — and I quote — that I look indistinguishable from a normal human the way I’m dressed today!”
“Looking human isn’t even half the battle, my dear,” he replied with a sneer, making a point of using the term of endearment she so detested. “Your appearance may pass for human, but you’re not nearly well behaved enough to go out on your own.”
“I know how to fucking behave!” she finally spun around to yell, waving hands angrily in the air — disappointingly, with her claws still retracted. Damn. “Go ahead, quiz me,” she challenged, halting to stand still, posture stiff and tall with determination. “Ask me any human manners shit you want.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head dismissively. Obviously he wasn’t going to prove anything that way — she had been a shockingly adept and speedy learner, despite her unwillingness to take him seriously. He doubted there was anything he could really ask her that she wouldn’t know.
“Knowing the technicalities of how to behave isn’t exactly the issue either,” he droned in reply, attempting to conceal his worry with a mimic of snide boredom. “The issue is you actually being able to control yourself to conform to appropriate behavior.”
Her jaw dropped, her brow tensing in angry disbelief at the assertion as she spun back around to resume storming down the main road towards the heart of town.
“I have ample fuckin’ self control!” she screamed at him, loud enough to echo through the empty streets. “As is evidenced by the fact I haven’t fuckin’ torn you to fucking shreds yet!”
“Oh, yes, your discipline is simply irreproachable,” he evened his breath to coo with contrasting calm as he hustled to catch up to her again, growing all the more satisfied with the reaction he was coaxing. “We haven’t even gotten to the bar yet, and you’re already managing to make an angry scene.”
She skidded to a stop, this time just in front of the church near the edge of town (intentional? spiteful, spiteful thing) before spinning back towards the roadway with a flourish of her skirt to face him with a contrived closed lipped smile and narrowed eyes.
“Any reasonable human being would be pushed to the point of near violence having to deal with you,” she drawled, a mockery of venomous politeness stretching out the words in her mouth as she folded her arms over her chest. “I would be perfectly calm and controlled if you weren’t around to bother me.”
“Would you?” he chimed, matching the drawn out rise of her faux friendliness and mirroring her posture to fix onto his own body: crossing arms over his chest, pursing his lips to curl into a pert smile, adding the finishing touch of bending at the waist to lean over her — remind her that he was still larger than her when she wasn’t transformed, sure to anger her enough that she would do so.
She settled for taking a step back, darting through the opening of the gray stone fencing to retreat onto the church grounds.
Lovely, so they were back to this little dance again — this time with the threat of luring him into the hallowed ground of the chapel rather than sunlight. But he wasn’t going to fall for that a second time, anyways. Or allow the vindictive little beast to provoke him while he was working to provoke her. And she was so much more given to provocation.
He took an encroaching step forward, pausing just past the stone perimeter. He paused, reaching to suddenly clutch his chest and feigning a gasp, as if the intrusion onto holy ground had actually wounded him, holding the hand there as his chest boomed with laughter instead.
(And he swore he saw, as he did so, each flutter of expression lightening fast enough to be missed by mortal eyes: the little wolf girl grin victoriously, then her nose twitch with surprise, then her brow furrow with worry, then harden into anger, then her face styled itself back into contrived politeness. Oh, but he saw, and he knew she cared, that she wanted to stay with him — she was just too stubborn to admit as much on her own.)
“So you’d be using your most polished manners if I weren’t present, then?” he pressed, shaking off a hum of laughter with the words. “That’s strange, I believe I recall watching you break human form to chase a squirrel just this morning, whilst I was nowhere near you.” He waved a hand between them, as if in dismissal of the thought. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, so long as I’m not around — and Mary May is up to code on pest control.”
“She must be, if she’s managing to keep you outta there,” Jessie growled, artificial smile falling once again as her features scrunched in annoyance. Good. “And besides, the squirrel thing was different. I was on my own lawn.”
“You were actually on my lawn, my dear,” he replied with a demure rise he knew would irritate her, lifting his hand to leave only fingertips pressed to his chest.
“Well I marked it,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes and taking a more measured step backward. Let the little thing hole up in a church all night in an effort to frustrate him, fine by him. “Doesn’t smell like your lawn.”
“The mere fact you think that’s determinative tells me you’re not ready for public appearances,” he retorted with a click of his tongue.
He inched forward, subtly pushing her to better cover, hoping to help conceal any transformation he managed to coax. If he could just get the slightest flash of fangs or sprouting of fur, something physical he could point to.
“And the list could go on,” he continued, raising the fingertips from his chest. “Lunging at food, barking at sudden noises, snapping at me for the slightest annoyance.” He sighed, dropping the hand he’d been waving on beat with the examples. “I’m sure you know what you should do, but I’ve yet to see you exercise any amount of restraint that would convince me you’d actually successfully do it.”
“Ooooh-hooo,” she forced out in a derisive laugh, arms now outstretched to her sides as she strode a longer pace back, retreating up the steps of the church and climbing until she towered at the top. “And I can learn it by hanging around you for longer?” she asked, a mocking curl returning to her lips. “Because you’re just the goddamn paragon of restraint and self-control?”
“Why, yes,” he replied, following along to plant at the base of the steps without yet climbing, content to allow her to get off on having the high ground for now. “I would say my restraint and self-control are exemplary.”
“Really?” she taunted in challenge, before flinging her arm to the side with a sharp whoosh of air and a quick flick of her fingers to extend claws outward on prominent display, poised for attack.
“Oh, yes, bring out those claws!” he cried joyously, now hopeful he might even manage to lure her into taking a few swipes at him. It would give him an excuse to subdue her, at least. And while werewolf scratches did heal more slowly than mortal injuries, he could tolerate a few scrapes to get her back home, and away from that godforsaken bar. “That’ll show me how calm and controlled you are!” he exclaimed, turning his head to the side to expose his neck in offering, eyes darting to the corner of his lids to remain locked on her. “Go on, prove your point!”
She growled, baring teeth but not yet lunging, not yet swinging the fully weaponized arm towards him.
Instead, she lifted her chin in challenge and brought her claws to her own outstretched neck, holding steady eye contact with him as she slashed the talons along her skin.
The smell hit him before his eyes even managed to process — that deep, rich scent soaking the air, coating the insides of his lungs the very second that skin broke.
And he felt that swirling, aching hunger jolt through him as soon as the smell did hit, ratcheting through him so forcefully that his mind stayed even a step further behind his senses, leaving him staring dumbly in an overstimulated stupor as he finally registered the sight of a thin, deep slice running across her neck to release crimson droplets.
The wound had already begun to heal by the time he bumbled along into proper understanding, skin weaving back together and thickening to seal the reservoir of fresh blood, the amount spilled already congealing and growing stale so that the sudden pain of hunger dulled as quickly as it rose in him, gnawing want turning in center.
He closed the jaw he hadn’t consciously realized had dropped to allow his fangs to feel cool night air and her scent to settle on his tongue in a ghost of a real taste, trying to stall the ragged breaths he took as they became more tolerable, less intoxicating.
“You are playing a very dangerous game, little wolf,” he hissed in warning, words still breathy and broken with need but strengthened with venom as hunger sharpened itself into anger upon understanding crystallizing inside him. She was strong, but he could drain her completely dry in one of her pitiful, fragile heartbeats, the ungrateful cur.
“Now why fucking ever would that be?” she asked, brightened with sarcastic pleasantry and innocence. “Worried you won’t be able to control yourself?” she cooed before hiking a leg back to steady herself and fall propped against the siding of the church.
She raised a clawed index and middle back to her neck, curling the fingers outward in taunt before jabbing directly into her jugular. She kept the sharpened ends inserted so that the wound couldn’t close itself, blood flowing freely and pooling around the points of nails.
And before he could even coach himself to grow desensitized to the one sight, she escalated — adding to his torment by brushing her free hand along the bare thigh of her bent leg, pushing her skirt upward and gently scraping nails along her skin without breaking it. She inched closer and close in, leaving light pinkened trails in the wake of her claws before finally retracting them entirely — flaunting exactly how in control of her form she was as she left nails on the other hand protruding and buried in flesh, while she shoved her freshly declawed hand up her dress and beneath the waistband of her briefs.
Fuck.
His jaw trembled with the need to bite, irritating the sudden scratchy dryness of his throat desperate to be quenched by the sensation of the hot, thick liquid leaking and sliding down flesh laid before him.
She was the cruelest monster he’d ever encountered. This was miserable, deplorable torture. Potent, crushing thirst now ached and buzzed through his very marrow, consuming every inch of his being. And the blood rushing between his legs made his veins feel all the more dreadfully hollowed and desperate to be filled, to be fed.
And the vile creature orchestrating his suffering merely closed her eyes in smug satisfaction as she worked one hand pawing between her legs, the other staying faithfully in place at her neck, nails puncturing her in the prefect mimic of a bite he could give. ( — if he could just — ) Not to mention the blood rising to her cheeks to dust them pink — a sign of her body responding to her own pleasuring touch, and an image almost as deliciously tempting as the weeping rubies dripping down the lengths of her fingers.
Her shaky breaths drowned out any other sound that might reach his ears, growing labored to match his own in quick, irregular rhythm. And every other available, supernaturally enhanced sense tuned to the blood slowly pouring from her neck — his eyes shaking with the strain of staying unblinking to gorge on the sight of velvety crimson painting her skin; his nose stinging with its heavy aroma as he gasped for air, as if he could fill himself on the scent alone.
And the overwhelming desire to have with every sense finally grew too great, the need to taste the intoxicating flavor and feel wet warmth too powerful to resist as he bounded towards her in a single fluid swoop, pinning her against the wooden doors of the church as his mouth found her neck and his hips found the space between her legs.
He burned with shame at how pathetic and needily he lapped at the crimson coating her throat while his hips rocked against her. He brushed her left hand out of the way to press his tongue directly against her wounds, grinding against her right in a frantic and uncaring rhythm as it stayed frustratingly nestled firm between her legs.
And fuck her blood felt so good swallowed down. Like taking a shot of stiff liquor felt as a human, dizzying and stinging just right, spice lingering on his tongue and pooling warm in his stomach. He suckled hard at the column of her neck as the flow began to slow in healing, his tongue sliding along the entry points as he felt them close beneath his hungry licks.
He trailed his tongue up and down the now closed and repaired expanse of her throat once it had sealed completely shut, searching for any stray drop to chase another hit of the taste and using his only remaining willpower to restrain himself from sinking teeth in to reopen her veins and feast properly.
“Real fuckin’ big and in control, huh?” she teased in a playful rasp as he pulled away from her neck, mouth clamped tightly shut while his hips continued to jerk forward with need unsated. “Hanging off my neck like a leech and dry humping me against a church in the middle of town,” she observed with scolding mockery, drawing a low, pitiful whine from him. “That’s your idea of restraint?”
“Y-You have no fucking idea,” he finally stuttered out, stomach tightening as his eyes trained on the heavy throb of her pulse, grinding his hips harder to stoke the smoldering pleasure from the friction to eclipse the ache of his more destructive hunger, “how much I’m actually controlling myself right now.”
“Aw, are you?” she hummed with sarcastic pity, bringing the hand still coated with her blood to hover at his mouth. “Being a real good boy for me, huh?” she questioned, slicking her index quickly along his bottom lip to leave a trail of crimson, before jerking the fingers back to make him chase them.
Which he did — with an embarrassing lack of hesitation — bobbing his head forward to swallow them, giving a muffled whimper of an mmhm in reply as he sucked the fingers clean, consuming the stale and tacky scraps of blood clinging to skin in a ravenous fury. He slid his tongue up and down along their lengths, curling along the sharp edges of her nails with little care for how they sliced him, desperate to lap the blood from every nook and cranny.
And fuck he didn’t become even a touch less needy when she began pumping the fingers into his mouth in rhythm with the rocking of his hips against her, a delicious shiver traveling down his spine from the sensation of claws scraping the back of his tongue.
John could feel himself reaching a breaking point, when that last thread of restraint would finally snap and his body would chase what it wanted of its own accord. His appetite for her had only been whetted by the sample of curdling blood now fading on his tongue, and the indirect friction along his hardness dulled by the thick fabric of his pants. The demand to experience her at full potency was raging through him, reducing the last of his resolve to ashes.
“Fuck,” he cursed, jerking his hand down to undo the buttons of his pants, needing to feel the direct contact of his own touch if nothing else. He buried his brow in the crook of her neck with lingering shame as he exposed himself. “I need you, Jessie. Now,” he groaned in pleading admission. “Right now. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Mm, can sure see that,” she purred, far too sweetly, thick and rumbling in some sick parody of sympathy. “Such a strong, powerful immortal. Alive all these centuries,” she mocked, trailing her saliva wettened claws along his collarbone. “And still just a needy little mess, huh?”
She gave him no time to answer, scraping the claws up his neck to fist into his hair and pull, forcing him to look at her before she slid her other hand up from between her legs to once again thrust fingers into his mouth, this time giving him a taste of the slickness that had built inside her. He savored it just as sweetly, running his tongue along the wrinkled pads of her fingers to lick up every last drop.
“Do you even know what you really want from me?” she asked as she hooked her leg around his waist, mercifully pulling him in closer despite her mockery, allowing him to feel the warm plump outline of her through the thin fabric of her underwear. “To suck me? Or fuck me?”
“Y-Yes,” he gasped around her fingers — unsure exactly which question he was answering ‘yes’ to, only that it was all of it, he wanted to have all of it, anything she would give him.
And he made no effort to wait and ask before diving forward to taste the one part of her he still needed to taste, covering the sweet rosy mouth still open in a taunt with his and darting tongue out to give a kiss as hungry as he felt.
And there was no attempt at gentleness from either of them — all gnashing fangs and bruising pressure, consuming with greed and abandon. Every flavor of her coalesced and tingled along his tongue, the lingering tastes lapped from her fingers combining with the subtle, natural tang of her mouth. And he noted a moment later the more familiar taste of his own blood joining the cocktail, all the more aroused by the careless way her incisors scraped along gum as she met him in uncontrolled hunger.
She wants it just as bad, he thought with a rough jerk of his hips, delighting in the sting of her teeth scratching the flesh of his mouth. She needs me too.
“You want it too,” he whispered against her lips, reaching a hand up her skirt and pulling at the waistband of her briefs, ready to tear. “You want to fuck me, too. I know it,” he whined, tugging elastic in a request for permission. “So fucking wet, kiss me so fucking hard. So good,” he offered in clumsy explanation, littering kisses along her jawline. “You want it bad, too.”
She didn’t agree, nor did she argue. The sounds falling from her lips never formed more than an encouraging groan as she bucked hips forward to meet him.
“Jessie,” he sighed, slipping a thumb beneath her pantyline to tease, feel proof she was just as aroused with a light brush along slick folds, still waiting for the word to do more. “You want it,” he breathed against her lips, as if willing the words into her own mouth. “I know.”
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” she growled against him, making his lips quiver.
“Tell me,” he pleaded, still pulling but not tearing.
Tell me, he continued to pray silently. Tell me you want me Tell me to fuck you Tell me to rip your panties off and take you Tell me you’re mine Tell me I belong to you Tell me I can drink you up swallow you down Tell me you’ll come home Tell me you need me yes you still need me Tell me to cum inside you Tell me you’ll never ever leave Tell me —
“What?” she demanded, interrupting his jumbled thoughts. She squeezed the thighs she wrapped around him tight. “You need to be fucking invited inside first or something?”
“Can’t you just —” the words choked in his dry and sputtering throat, frustrated she couldn’t just give in and want him, just say that she wants him. “Do you want it?” he finally asked, feeling as if he was stuck back in the same fucking dance with her: inching forward just a hair, tugging elastic to pull to the side and slide his head along her folds, waiting for her to pull back and make him chase.
Jessie didn’t pull back or answer, not with her words — instead she slinked her own hand between them and sliced claws through the fabric herself, shredding underwear to fall to the ground before canting hips forward to take him with one swift motion.
His legs trembled from the sudden, unexpected sensation of finally being consumed entirely by that tight, crushing silk winding around every inch. He fell forward weakly to prop an arm against the building and press flush against her body, steadying himself to move with small, slow rocks of his hips, unsure he could take much more yet.
“God, Jessie,” he whimpered. It felt even better than he could have imagined, finally being buried completely, hugged by tightness he’d only dreamed of. And he wasn’t ready to surrender that warm grip for even the heartbeat it would take to give her a full thrust, limiting himself to pressing forward to rub along walls just enough to keep in motion and stave off the unbearable ache for more.
But it wasn’t enough for her, apparently — the hand that had shredded her briefs was now gripping his ass, nails digging into the cheek to push him forward into proper thrust. Her other hand held the back of his neck, scraping its side with trimmed nails still more human than animal.
The sharp jolt of pain there only added power to the frenzied sparks of ecstasy racing through him to build electricity in his base, rushing through every vein in his body as a particularly long drag of his cock inside her drew out a gasp and an outward jab of claws on her previously humanized hand to break the skin of his neck.
A second gasp signaled her realization, and she retracted her claws just as quickly, tensing and clearing her throat with a deep rumble as she straightened her limbs.
“Don’t,” he ordered, clear and firm, tilting his hips back. “Don’t try to hold back. Don’t control yourself,” he whispered, barely managing to do so himself when those warm amber eyes found him, narrowing to take him in. “Scratch me up as much as you’d like,” he purred, his own nails digging crescents in her thighs. “Do tear me to shreds if you’d like. Just don’t hold back. Not with me.”
Her response came in a crackle of deep piercing pain throbbing in sharp slices along his back. A broken cry vibrated up from her throat and fell against his neck as she buried fangs there, kicking the leg wrapped around him against his back to pull him in with a slap of skin against skin, arching to seek the angle she wanted to grind against him.
How ironic, he thought at the sharp jolts of pain shooting through his neck.
Before he couldn’t think anything at all, because fuck it just felt so good, so raw. He hadn’t truly lived in his body like this in centuries, feeling weakened by blazing desire as his shirt was ripped to shreds and she bucked hips eagerly against him. The most he could do was prop her up, do his best to meet thrusts in frantic rhythm as she fucked herself on him, using his body however she wished to chase her pleasure.
God, he hadn’t been fucked like this since he was human — his lovers since all vampires who kissed and touched with the same cold, efficient gracefulness and precision as him, or humans content to lay back in surrender and let him take what he wanted. But this — this made him feel fucking alive again.
“N-Not too much of that though, my dear,” he gasped with a jerk back of his neck as she lapped the blood trickling from it. Couldn’t have her really turning, after all, if she drank enough of his blood.
Her blood, he thought dizzily. The taste of her he had earlier was surely running through his veins by now, only to be swallowed back down by her, their lives mixing, boundaries of their bodies blurring.
“Still not your fuckin’ dear,” she growled back, craning forward to nibble at his lip instead.
“My Jessie,” he murmured through the bite of her canines in apology. “My sweet, sweet Jessie. My perfect little Jessie, my —”
“I’m not fucking sweet either. Or little. Or fucking yours,” she grumbled through his praise, determined to be difficult every step of the way. “And you just told me to — to do what the fuck I want.”
“You have to argue about absolutely everything, don’t you?” he answered in lazy complaint, forgetting any opposition just as quickly as she clawed to rip the last scrap of his shirt from his back.
“Well, if that’s what I want,” she snapped, yanking away the hand that had been cupping her cheek to pull down between them, her own talons digging into the backs of his fingers as she pressed down and guided them to work in rubbing circles. “You need to decide what — what you fuckin’ want,” she grunted, a clear final effort at hostility as pink bloomed along her chest and creeped up her neck to make it look all the more delectable.
“God, you can’t even stop being spiteful for a full ten minutes,” he bemoaned in his own last effort at keeping up bickering, needing the distraction himself as he felt his body try to reel toward the promise of release before he was ready. “Can’t even stop to just — ah, just enjoy getting fucked.”
“You don’t like it?” she rasped, grasping onto his shoulder and snapping hips more harshly and unsteadily against him, constricting tighter and threatening to bring him to his finish as pressure built to a point of inevitable collapse.
“I fucking love it,” he admitted with a broken cry, fucking deeper into her, wanting to give her as much of himself as he could. Because of course he loved it, he loved the claws, he loved the fury, he loved the obstinance and the bloodshed and untamed spite, he loved —
“F-Fuck, John —” Her claws shredded the skin along his neck, surely leaving marks that would remain for days, and she wound even tighter around him, clenching so hard it was almost painful, so that he had to press his hips flush against her to stay inside and fuck her through her peak, savor the pulsing of her walls around him.
“Yes, Jessie, fuck yes,” he cursed in encouragement as he allowed the flutters of her finish to fade, holding out a moment more to let her fully bask in the release before he returned to selfishly feeding the needs of his own body. “Love it,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Fucking love it. Love it when you let go.”
She let out a choked gasp as she threw back her head to thud against the wood, eyelids slowly fluttering open to gaze upon him, surely finding him looking just as ruined as she did.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his own forehead slamming against the door behind her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, slowing and elongating his strokes, clinging to that last build of pleasure as it quickly became too much. “So fucking good, I’m — Fuck, I’m close, let me —”
She scraped nails along his neck as she resumed her motions rocking against him. “Not very in control now, huh?” she ground out, voice recovering to grow steady and clear with smug taunting once again. “Like you like this,” she purred, gripping the back of his neck, placing the softest kiss to the top of his head. “Want you to let go, too.”
“Can I?” he gasped, unable to speak and solidify exactly what he was asking for, only knowing that the hungry ache inside was reaching a pitch, and he was desperate for her to give him permission to let it take over.
And mercifully she didn’t ask him to explain, answering with a single word and the shifting of her body to give him access to everything he wanted. “Yes,” she sighed, tilting hips forward, tightening the grip of her legs around his waist to hold him in place, tossing her head to the side to offer the soft expanse of her neck.
That was all he needed, the pressure inside him finally crashing, all that hunger and want swirling to a final frenzy as he buried his cock in her center and his teeth in her neck in synch, gasping around the opened skin as he finished.
Finally. He finally allowed himself the luxury of a single full drink as he found release, draining and filling her, giving and taking.
He struggled to will his body back under his control, limiting himself to just one gulp of the thick crimson nectar as he pulled back with another, deeper gasp and a final few rolls of his hips to ride out waves of pleasure, savoring the relief of finally being sated.
Satisfied his restraint had returned, he brought his mouth back to her throat to lap the remaining drops of blood from the bite, ending the encounter the same way he had begun it.
He ran his tongue along the puncture wound one last time as he attempted to even the heaving of his chest, feeling the slight dips that remained as the flow of blood dammed. It would be slower to heal than a typical wound for her, same as the scratches along his neck and back, sure to stay visible for another day or two.
But he thought he rather liked that.
“Will you please —” he finally huffed, between a last few pants as he caught his breath. “Just fucking come home now?”
She grunted, lowering a trembling leg to the ground and taking a step back from the church. She looked down, smoothing a hand along her wrinkled shirt, then rubbing along the puncture wound at her throat, circling around to scratch the back of her neck.
“Be honest,” she started, voice still hoarse and gravelly from strain, so that she sounded very much the same as she did the first time she spoke to him, still easing into the habit of speech. “I don’t look like a normal human right now, do I?” she asked, running a hand through tangled copper. “I look like — I look like I just fucked a dracula, don’t I?”
“Well, you certainly look like you just fucked someone,” he replied, casually pulling up his pants. He allowed his eyes to fall along the bitemark at her neck, smiling at his work. “Who was very likely a vampire.”
She tensed the corners of her mouth and nodded in reluctant acceptance, picking up the scraps of torn underwear from the church steps and shoving them in her pocket. “And normal humans don’t fuck draculas outside churches, do they?”
“Normal humans don’t fuck in public outdoor spaces period,” he replied, descending the steps. He knew that she knew the proper term was ‘vampire,’ and that she was still just trying to get a rise out of him. He tried to not let it work.
“They don’t?” she asked with a cock of her head, brow furrowing in confusion that appeared quite genuine. “Like, not even when no one’s around?” she questioned, meeting him at the base of the steps. “Not even when the weather’s nice?”
He nodded in confirmation before turning in the direction out of town, slowly beginning to walk and coaxing her to follow.
“Fuck,” she cursed. He smiled, hearing the crunch of dry leaves beneath boots that told him she was following behind. “I guess I do still have shit to learn about being human…”
“I’ll say,” he replied, doing his best to flatten his tone with bored disinterest. “So will you please return to my home, so I can continue educating you?”
“My home,” she barked resolutely, accompanied by a rustling of footsteps to catch up. “I marked it.”
“Still going with that argument?” he responded in the same droll bickering tone, despite the way the words fluttered in repetition in his insides. My home, she said. She was home, her home was with him — but he couldn’t cling to that on the outside the way he did inside, couldn’t show how he wished to dig his teeth into it. She would surely bolt if he did. “Your first lesson can be my explaining to you why that won’t hold up in any human court of law.”
“Human court of law — isn’t that a bit of a fucking oxymoron?” she scoffed, leaning forward just enough to show him a flash of that mischievous crooked grin of hers, the glisten of a single fang peeking through lips and the dip of a dimple sinking into one cheek. “Since when are any lawyers considered human? Even the ones who aren’t draculas?”
“Hm, and I suppose your second lesson of the day will once again need to be on freshening up your jokes,” he replied, pointedly ignoring the ‘dracula’ bait.
“Fresh? That’s also pretty rich, coming from an undead fucking —”
“But I suppose we should shelve both topics for the time being to focus on your dinner etiquette,” he interrupted, sparing himself a subtle glimpse to gauge her reaction in his periphery, pausing and inhaling to ensure he didn’t smell the musk of fear wafting from her at the mention. “Now that it seems you won’t be skipping town before your presence is required at dinner with my family.”
She gave a grunt of laughter, shaking her head. “The fuck I will,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her arm. “You can still tell your weirdo family you got dumped. I’ll just be waiting out the freakshow at my house instead of a few towns over.”
“A few problems with that approach, Jessie dearest,” he said, purposefully skirting as close as he could to the forbidden term of endearment. “One is that our annual family dinner is traditionally hosted at my abode.”
“My fuckin’ abode. Mine. Unless you have a second tacky ass ranch somewhere I don’t know about, the place we happen to be heading right this moment actually fucking belongs to —”
“Secondly, it tends to not be possible for a fledgling to ‘dump’ their sire at all.”
The rustling of her footsteps halted. She stayed there, seemingly in thoughtful silence, face scrunching with an emotion he couldn’t quite place, no matter how closely he studied it. Until she broke the silence with an exaggerated retching noise — the little wolf girl making a dramatic pantomime of gripping her paws at her knees and pretending to vomit.
“Ugh,” she spat, holding out her tongue. “Ew. ‘Sire?’ Ugh,” she coughed, as if choking on the word. “Do not ever fucking call yourself that again. Fucking christ, John — Ew. I would rather eat a whole fucking field of wolfsbane than ever fucking hear you say —”
“Very mature,” he hissed, slowing but not stopping his own stride as he waited for her to finish the theatrics. “But your histrionics aside, it’s true. Once a sire —”
“Enough!” she yipped, covering her trembling ears and staggering forward as if truly injured, outpacing him. “I-I — I’ll make you a fucking deal,” she cried over her shoulder, looking back at him with eyes wide with a terror that failed to seep into her scent with authenticity. “I’ll go to your dracula dinner, if you just stop using that fucking word!”
John sighed. He would never have expected an undomesticated and until recently entirely solitary werewolf to require such intricate social rituals as pretext to being led to do any tiny, simple thing.
“On two additional conditions,” he huffed, hanging his head as if actually in defeat as he sped up again to flank her. “You actually listen and allow me to prepare you for it, and you stop using the term ‘dracula.’”
“Well the fuck else am I supposed to call you? Because it’s not going to be fuckin’ —”
“Just let me teach you how to behave at dinner, then,” he interrupted in offering, expecting from the beginning to be talked down. “I mean, you already look the part of a soon-to-turn fledgling,” he said, darting his gaze pointedly to the bitemarks standing out deep maroon on ivory skin. “Now if you can just prove to me that you can control yourself well enough to act like one…”
A twitch of anger, as expected — a spark of gold in her eyes he knew meant an irrepressible drive to meet the challenge issued, no matter her disdain. So easily provoked.
“Fine,” she snapped, snarling at him. “But not because I have anything to fucking prove to you!” Certainly, Jessie, he forced his accommodating smile to say. Of course not, Jessie; never that, Jessie. “Because it would be funnier if they thought you got dumped after you went through all the fucking work of turning me.”
“Of course, Jessie,” he replied plainly, with a flutter of his lashes. “We can start right away, as soon as we’re home —”
“Then the fuck are we waiting around taking a leisurely stroll for?” she grumbled, offering him one last scowl.
It was quickly followed by a hushed roar and the sound of ripping fabric that alerted him to her transformation before he saw the flash of russet fur — limbs twisting and falling to the grounds as she took the shape of a wolf.
“My god, you’re a slower learner than I thought!” he cried with exaggerated shock. “That’s still rule number one — do not transform in the middle of public!”
His cries were, naturally, futile, as she sprinted off ahead of him with no more than a vague growl — truly never too much progress ever to be made with her. As soon as he allowed himself to believe they’d gotten anywhere he found himself right back where they were that same night — one endless dance or another, her obstinately running off ahead of him yet again.
Except.
Except this time she stopped, just past the ‘Welcome’ sign, turning over her shoulder to look back at him expectantly with warm amber eyes he would recognize in any form. And waiting.
He gave her a last human smile before shifting with a pop and cloud of smoking to transform into bat form, flying the remaining distance to her to perch upon her shoulder. He gave a pleased little squeak as she took off, content to ride there as she lumbered the rest of the way home.
Perhaps they were getting somewhere after all.
#otp: stop bothering these nice folks#oc: deputy jestiny ellen#v: eternal flame#writies and wordies#ch: john seed
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