#either way though it's a really good show

[escelia]

Congrats! Its A Boy!

Here's the second chapter of New Sibling Just Dropped! The inspiration train is still on track, and I've been having a lot of fun writing this. So far, my goal has been to post one chapter after I've written the one after it. I hope my motivation sticks around long enough for me to get all my thoughts typed out! Enjoy!

@flamingpudding here is your best friend mandated update tag! Love ya~

“For interrogation,” his children had said as they diligently separated their hostage and Robin from being near each other. His youngest was absolutely seething, and rightfully so. He’d been cloned several times by his mother, each one of them out for Damian’s head. His children had been right about this one though, he was different in a very strange way. He hadn’t put up much of a fight at all, and in fact had been quite obedient thus far. He seemed very confused and lost in thought. It was suspicious. He couldn’t let his guard down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce had been suspicious when Nightwing and Red Robin dragged a blindfolded child on board. He’d been blindfolded and maneuvered into a seat, but hadn’t struggled at all.

When they entered the cave they immediately restrained the child in their little interrogation room. It wasn’t ideal that he was there at all, but they’d get way faster results from the DNA they’d swiped from him on their way there on the Batcomputer than anywhere else. And if he was a clone of Damian, they didn’t want anyone seeing his face. He had Tim get to work running the sample while he grabbed the folder with everything he knew about the League’s clones so far. He could have taken a tablet in with all the digital files, but it was never quite as intimidating as slamming a folder around.

When Bruce entered he zeroed in on the kid’s body language. He was tense and restless, but not in any way that indicated he was likely to attempt an attack. His gaze wandered and frequently settled back on Bruce. He certainly didn’t act like a trained assassin. He started by asking a few questions like his age and name. When he answered his age it wasn’t with any certainty, and he’d either picked a new name for himself or was really good at lying. It was also possible, of course, that he’d been a failed clone experiment. It would explain why the League was so willing to throw him into the fight and then lose track of him afterward.

“Why are you different from the other clones?” he asked bluntly, watching the child’s reaction. He didn’t falter at all when he responded that he wasn’t a clone. Bruce slammed the folder shut and watched the boy startle and tense like he would have to defend himself before leaving the room. The results should be in by now.

“Red Robin, what have we got on the DNA results?”

Tim stared at the screen with wide eyes as he typed something in. He looked to Bruce then back to the screen.

“Uh, I’m going to run the test again just to be sure, but you should sit down B.”

Bruce ignored him. He needed answers now, and while the Batcomputer worked fast, he didn’t want to wait for the test to run again. He had a family to protect. He peered at the screen over Tim’s shoulder and had to grab his shoulder to steady himself. He could see now why Tim insisted on running the test again.

“B? You okay?”

The others started to gather around him to see what was going on. Cass had brought up a hand to cover her mouth in a show of shock. Dick gripped Bruce’s shoulder in comfort and to steady himself. Tim was still gaping, looking back and forth between the screen and his family. Steph bit back a laugh, though whether it was from shock or just because of how absurd it was, no one could tell. And Damian, for the first time, looked genuinely stunned speechless by the words on the screen.

Familial Match Found

Damian Wayne- 99.7%

Relationship: Twin

Bruce Wayne- 48.3%

Relationship: Father

Run again? Y/N

“Damian, you have a twin?” Tim asked incredulously, turning his stare to the youngest.

“I… mother only ever implied– she never said it directly and didn’t bring it up often…”

“Damian, you knew you had a twin?” Bruce asked, his voice shaking with the unmistakable quiver of pain.

“No! I only had the vague impression that there had been another child. It always sounded as though they died. Mother never even mentioned a name!” the boy seethed.

“Run it again,” Bruce demanded.

Tim didn’t need to be asked twice. He was going to run it again anyway. It was just too scary to imagine. Another Damian running around terrorizing the public? One was more than enough! And not to mention the pain that had to put Bruce in; knowing that Talia had hid not one, but two children from him and those kids didn’t even know each other. Would Damian get even more stabby now that he thought he had competition for Robin? Would he get violent over not being the only blood son anymore? Tim didn’t know how they would manage if the two started fighting.

Bruce swept back into the room where Danny was waiting. His chest was tight, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, so he whipped his cowl off to take deep breaths and look over Danny properly, like a person instead of a threat. If he hadn’t been reeling, he was sure he never would have revealed his face, there was still so much they didn’t know about him.

He really did look so much like Damian that you could mistake him for a clone. Except, now that he was really looking, Danny was a bit paler than Damian. His complexion was a little closer to his own than that of Damian and Talia. Their face structures were the same, as well as their build and stature. But where Damian’s eyes were green like Talia’s, Danny’s were a bright, baby blue, like his. How had he missed that? They didn’t even have the same eye color! How could they have mistaken him for a clone? Had Tim noticed? Was that why they brought him back with them?

“Hey, are you okay?” Danny asked him. He looked genuinely concerned over someone who had essentially kidnapped him. He obviously hadn’t been raised the same way Damian had. If he and his brother hadn’t grown up together, then where had Danny been this whole time? And why did he suddenly show up in the League of Assassins’ base?

“I have so many questions,” Bruce found himself saying out loud.

“Dude, same,” Danny replied, “like why did you think I was a clone? Did you get those DNA results you were talking about? What did they say?” And why had he taken his mask off? If they were heroes like he suspected, then the man definitely knew the number one rule of ‘don’t reveal your identity to strangers.’

“My apologies– Danny, right?” Danny nodded. The man finally moved his feet to take the seat across from the kid again. The door cracked open again and the kid Danny recognized as Robin shuffled in to stand next to Batman. His fists were clenched and his posture stiff, but he was much better at concealing his emotions than the older man was. He stayed silent for now, just hovering beside the unmasked man.

“Do you know who we are, Danny?” he was asked calmly.

“I heard someone call you Batman, and,” Danny pointed at the one next to him, “you’re Robin, right?”

“Stop playing dumb!” Robin snapped at him, clicking his tongue in displeasure.

“Whoa! There’s no playing involved, I’m just dumb. From the moment I woke up to right now, I haven’t had a single clue what’s going on!” Robin looked at him suspiciously like he didn’t believe him.

“What happened when you ‘woke up,’ please explain.”

“I opened my eyes for the first time in this dimension and suddenly some guy was shoving a knife into my hand and throwing me at the tall one in blue. Nightwing, I think his name was? I literally woke up just standing there and then almost got my head bashed in!”

“Your results suggest that you’re not a clone, but there are holes in your story. Do you not have any memory of what you were doing before you encountered Nightwing?” Batman asked seriously. He seemed to finally be under control of his emotions, and if he hadn’t taken his cowl off, he might have been a bit more intimidating. Robin, on the other hand, looked to be getting more frustrated, like he was expecting Danny to say something else and was angry when he didn’t hear what he had anticipated. Danny clicked his tongue in annoyance, noticing that it sounded almost exactly like when Robin had done it, and glared suspiciously at them. They were trying to get at something but refused to say it.

“What did those test results say?”

Damian finally ripped his mask off his face to scowl at Danny properly. Their faces were practically identical to each other. Danny finally understood at least one thing, and that was why their little clan thought he was a clone.

“Oh, wow, okay,” the halfa muttered under his breath.

“Those test results seem to imply that we are identical twins! Mother made it sound like you were dead. Where was she hiding you all this time? What is your goal in coming here?” Seeing a sneer like that on a face that looked just like his own was a weird experience for Danny. The other boy looked poised for a fight and the halfa was glad that, if he was attacked again, at least he would see it coming this time.

“Cool, cool, cool. Always wanted a stabby sibling.” Dani had been a stabby sibling when he’d met her and she’d ended up being pretty cool. Of course, she’d moved on to do her own thing eventually and he never really saw her after that. She was her own person, it made sense that she didn’t stay glued to him.

Robin snapped and snarled at him, pulling out a knife from somewhere on his person (seriously, that was pretty impressive for a human) and throwing himself across the table. Danny was able to phase out of his restraints and float to the side of the chair since he’d seen the lunge coming. He’d planned on telling them about that anyway, but he was seriously starting to get tired of not being able to explain himself.

“If you guys would just chill for a moment,” he froze Robin’s feet to the floor and Batman’s cape to the chair he was on, “I’d be more than happy to explain myself! I really don’t want to fight anyone if I don’t have to. Please?”

“Guys, he made an ice pun and it was beautiful,” Nightwing whispered in awe. It seemed the door had been swung open and the others that he’d heard milling around before had come in to either stop or join the fight that had been brewing.

Robin looked as though he had no intention of letting it go that easily, but Bruce, whether it was because he was curious or because he couldn’t stop thinking of the floating child as his son, hummed and nodded his head to hear him out. The rest of his brigade followed suit.

“Finally!” he was still in his human form, so it felt a bit weird to tuck his legs up underneath him, crisscrossing in midair. All kinds of thoughts raced through everyone's heads from Lazarus Pit demons to genetically modified test tube baby.

“My name is Danny and I’m something called a halfa. I am NOT a clone, I do NOT have nefarious plans, and I DO NOT know why or where I woke up when you guys nabbed me. Yes, I was sent here from another dimension. No, I don’t know why my DNA results came back as being Robin’s twin.”

“Do you know why you were sent here?” Bruce asked while he processed the information the child had given them freely. He would never in a million years admit it out loud, but he felt bad for the way this had gone down. Danny clearly didn’t seem hostile and had no interest in fighting any of them or refusing to answer their questions. He’d just gotten so worked up over all the clones that had been sent to kill Damian that when they stormed the League of Assassins to deal with them and they found what they thought was a clone acting strangely, his immediate instinct had been to be suspicious and protective.

Danny thought for a moment about how to answer the question. He’d already decided to hold off telling them about the whole Ghost King thing, and he wasn’t really sure how to go about explaining the Lazarus Pit thing without bringing that up. But that wasn’t the only reason why he was there. His cheeks burned at the thought of explaining it out loud, but he’d made his mind up.

“I… do know. But promise not to laugh, okay?” They nodded their heads seriously at him.

“It’s to… it’s so I can try being a kid again.” Danny frowned when Robin scoffed at him. “In the dimension I’m originally from, I had a sister and we pretty much raised ourselves. And when I turned fourteen, I was in a lab accident that biologically changed me and I spent a few years after that dealing with the fallout of an interdimensional portal as my city’s only hero. It was hard. And I was tired from doing everything by myself. By the time everything finally settled down, my sister had already left for college, my parents forgot I was there, and my best friends were graduating high school without me.”

He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying in front of these people he barely knew. He didn’t like crying in general, but at least with Clockwork he knew the ghost understood why he was crying and wouldn’t judge him for it. Nightwing looked to be tearing up on his behalf, though.

“I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything I wanted to do in that world. I hadn’t had the time to go to school or develop other skills outside of my hero work. So my mentor from the Infinite Realms offered to drop me into another dimension with the opportunity to try childhood again. And you can tell I’m still a child because I didn’t ask him any questions,” he rolled his eyes, “like what family he was placing me with, where I would wake up, or how old I was going to be.” Danny began laughing at himself, filling the silence while waiting for someone to say something to him.

“So this mentor of yours just dropped you into this world with no one to take care of you? Then why does your DNA flag as this gremlin's twin?” Red Robin asked incredulously.

“Like I said, I don’t know. However, I think I have a theory, but…” he grimaced as he glanced over at the maskless Robin. Knowing Clockwork for so long now gave him an advantage when it came to stuff like this. He had a few theories actually. It was possible that Robin really did have a twin and something happened to him that had allowed Danny to take his place when he was sent here. It was also possible, though way more unlikely in his opinion, that the role of being his twin was created upon his arrival, and the world had retroactively rearranged itself to fit him into it. Something about being an Ancient, Clockwork had said, but Danny was still young for an Ancient so he didn't think it was likely.

“Did you maybe already have a twin? I could be an alternate version of a twin you already had, which would mean…” he trailed off, letting the implication that they were supposed to be the family that took him in hang in the air.

Robin tried to jerk his legs out of the ice, probably not wanting to accept another sibling, let alone one that was supposed to be his twin! But Danny started to speak again.

“But if that doesn’t work for you or you don’t want me around, I can just figure something else out like I always do!”

“Absolutely not!” Batman countered. “You’re twelve and we don’t know anything about your powerset, you are not wandering off on your own!”

“Are you sure? I could just go, like, haunt a park or something,” he asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the door. But it seemed like everyone other than Batman and Robin were vibrating with excitement as they started to shed their masks. And holy crap they all looked alike, their whole group really was a family unit! Nightwing was grinning wide and Red Robin was fiddling with something on his phone. Danny couldn’t have known, but Tim was already drafting up paperwork to make him a legal person in Gotham. There were two whose names he hadn’t caught yet next to them. One of them, a blonde, was holding up her phone to take his picture. He hoped her photo turned out okay with him in it. (Steph was uploading his photo into their group chat with the caption, ‘New brother just dropped,’ for everyone that wasn’t there that night.) The one next to her had dark hair and was quietly chanting, “new brother.”

“You may not originally be from this dimension, but biologically, you’re my son here. I’m not going to make you live at the park.” He moved to get up but was stopped by Danny’s ice. He bashfully muttered an apology before dispersing the ice on both him and Robin.

“You said you were a hero before, so I'm sure I don't have to remind you not to tell anyone our civilian identities, right?”

“Absolutely! My lips are sealed, don’t worry!” Danny confirmed saluting the man before he finally let his feet touch the ground again. He didn't actually know anyone's names yet either, so there was that too. Everyone started to file out of the tiny room; it had felt so cramped in there with all those people blocking the door. A dignified, older gentleman was waiting outside for them with an expectant eyebrow lifted at them. If he thought it was weird that Danny was there, or that he looked almost exactly like one of the others, he was really good at hiding it.

“I’m sure proper introductions can be made after everyone is out of costume and upstairs for the night? I’ve even taken the liberty of preparing cookies and hot chocolate.”

It was like watching a flock of birds scatter with how fast everyone started moving. Some of them even tripped over each other trying to be the first one up for what Danny could only imagine were god tier cookies and hot chocolate, going by their reactions.

“You may call me Alfred,” the man gently greeted him. “What would you like me to call you?”

“You can just call me Danny.”

“Very well, Master Danny. Allow me to fetch you a change of clothes. I’m sure Master Damian has something suitable for you to wear for now.” Alfred motioned for him to follow. Danny assumed that Damian could only be Robin, since he was the only one the same size as him as far as he could tell. He absently wondered if he should prepare himself to eventually get stabbed by his new and unwilling twin brother.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfiction #batfam #damian wayne #dcxdp #update #danny and damian are twins #bruce is so emotionally incompetent he can't even panic properly #bruce is planning his text to Talia as we speak #alfred is the only one even remotely composed #and he's only there for like 5 minutes #my cat screamed at me the entire time i formated this post #he says hi

[jareaul0ver]

I Can See You

Summary: As the media manager for the UConn WBB team, you've always kept a comfortable, and professional, relationship with the team; but one night out changes everything.

wc: 1.6k warnings: suggestive content, drinking, nothing else really pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

"Can you guys listen for once! It isn't that hard to stand in a straight line!" You sighed, getting frustrated with the team. It was media day, and Geno wanted a picture of all the girls together, but it was damn near impossible with the way they acted.

A few of them giggled, making your voice go stern. "I swear, ladies, I'm gonna tell Geno that you're all fuckin' around instead of taking these pictures."

They all groaned and shouted in protest. "Then get in a straight line and show me those pretty little smiles everyone loves, got it?"

A collective sigh was heard from the group and you laughed a bit under your breath. You lined the camera up, taking a few pictures. "Alright, do a fun one now, since I know you wanna."

They all changed their poses and looked utterly stupid. You snapped a few photos of them like that and finally media day was over. "Okay, girls, I'm done with you all. Get out of my sight." You smiled at them as they walked past you and to the locker room.

You gathered your things and were putting them carefully back into your bag when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and looked up, meeting Nika's warm gaze. "Nika, what's up?"

She smiled at you and cleared her throat. "Hey, um, few of us are going to the bar later if you want to tag along." Her voice was soft and a little hoarse, probably from all of the yelling they did today. You could still hear her accent clearly, though, and it was making your knees weak.

"I'll be there." You smiled up at her. She squeezed your shoulder and mumbled a quiet "perfect" before saying goodbye and walking to the locker room with the rest of the team. Your eyes stuck on her as she walked away.

'Fuck, Y/N. Be normal. Be professional for God's sake.' You thought to yourself as you shoved the rest of your things in your camera bag. You shot Geno a text saying you'd have all the pictures sorted out within the next few days and would send him everything.

You slung your bag over your shoulder before leaving the gym and heading back to your apartment.

You stood against your bathroom sink and looked in the mirror as you applied eyeliner. Your roommate leaned against the doorframe and smirked at you. "Who're you getting pretty for tonight? Is it Nika? You never shut up about her, y'know."

A sigh left your lips as you shot her a glare. "And you just never shut up. I'm going to the bar with a few of the girls on the team, nothing special."

"Is Nika gonna be there?"

"I would think so considering she's the one that invited me-"

Your roommate gasped. "Hold on, she invited you?"

You groaned. "You're looking to far into this. We're just friends, it's nothing more than that. Besides, it would be unprofessional to be anything else."

"Right." She side eyed you. "Well, while you finish getting pretty for your girl, I'm gonna go figure out what to get for dinner."

You rolled your eyes as she walked away, mumbling a quiet "whatever" under your breath as you finished your makeup. You ran your fingers through your hair and decided that you were ready.

As you were leaving the apartment, your roommate called out. "Have fun tonight! And good luck with-" You shut the door behind you before you could hear the rest of her sentence. The bar was a little far from the apartment building, so you called an Uber and rode in silence on the way there.

You got out of the car and looked around, seeing if any of the girls were outside. You didn't see any of their cars, so the either weren't there yet or took Ubers.

You made your way inside and scouted the place out. You still didn't see any of them. You frowned as you made your way over to the bar and ordered a shot, getting head start over everyone else.

After sitting at the bar for a few minutes, making small talk with the bartender (the place wasn't busy in the slightest), you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You spun around in your chair and met Nika's eyes.

"Sorry we were late. Someone took forever to get ready." She shot glares at Paige and Azzi. They weren't listening though. They were already getting drinks in their system.

You smiled at them and looked back up at Nika. "Don't diss them, they look beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, a tinge of jealousy in her heart, even though she knew you meant the compliment in the friendly way. "Yeah, whatever." She stepped next to you and ordered a drink for you and herself. You gladly took the drink from her and took a sip.

She reached for one of your hands and pulled you off of the barstool. You shot her a confused look. "Let's go dance?"

You smiled and shook your head at her. "Fine. But I can't dance to save my life."

Nika laughed softly as she pulled you to the middle of the floor. The bar had gotten busier, and there were bodies surrounding your every side. Nika had you pulled close to her, letting one of her hands rest on your lower back as the other held her drink.

You looked up at her as you did your best attempt to dance. Her eyes never once left your face. She was down bad for you, and she knew it.

You finished your drink and leaned up to talk in her ear so she could hear you. "Gonna go get another drink, be right back."

She nodded and watched as you walked away from her, but eventually lost you in the crowd. You made your way back over to the bar and got another drink. Paige and Azzi spotted you and came over.

You were lost in your own thoughts. Thinking and seeing all the things that could happen between you and Nika tonight. You and her shoved in a bathroom stall together, your skirt hiked up and her eating you out. You bit your bottom lip and let out a deep breath.

"Yo, you good, ma?" Paige put her hand on your arm. Your head snapped to look at her and you nodded.

"All good, don't worry." You flashed a smile at her and took a sip of your drink. You couldn't focus on her next sentence though. You needed to find Nika again.

You cut Paige off. "Sorry, P, I told Nika I'd be back a few minutes ago." You pat her shoulder before rushing off. Paige and Azzi sent each other knowing looks before shrugging it off and doing their own thing.

The crowd of bodies had only increased in size since you went to get a drink. You shoved your way through the crowd, trying to find Nika in the mess of people.

A few more people shoved to the side revealed her. And a girl very obviously flirting with her. You weren't sure whether Nika was interested in this girl's advancements, or if she was totally oblivious to it.

You took a few steps forward and wrapped your arm around Nika's bicep. "Hey." You tilted your head and looked up at her. Her gaze instantly went to meet yours.

She smiled at you, relief washing over her face. "Hey."

You turned to look at the girl that was flirting with her. She stood there awkwardly and watched the two of you. You glared at her and she took that as her sign to leave.

Nika brought her free hand up and turned your face to meet hers. Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth and Nika's eyes were stuck on it. "Come with me." She said lowly before dragging you away from the dance floor and in the direction of the bathrooms.

You hoped and prayed that this was going the way you wanted it to. You wanted to end up with Nika's head between her thighs, your hand tangled in her brown locks, and her eventually finishing you off in the bar bathroom.

She pulled you into the bathroom and into the handicapped stall, locking it behind you. "What was that?" She questioned. You could smell alcohol on your breath, and you knew she could smell it on yours.

"What was what?" You retorted, playing a little dumb about the situation.

Nika breathed out and took a step forward, trapping you against her and the wall. Fuck, she was hot. "You know what I mean." Her eyes had gone from her innocent bright ones to a dark look that you hadn't seen from her before.

You didn't say anything. The two of you stared at each other before she went to speak. You shook your head and leaned up, wrapping your arms around her neck and getting close to her ear, cutting off her words before they even left her mouth. "This isn't professional."

She grunted a response before leaning forward and latching her mouth onto your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses down the column of your neck. "Maybe not, but don't tell me you haven't noticed how things have changed." She said lowly.

You tilted your head back, letting her have easier access to your neck. she continued her assault on your neck, making you forget everything you were about to say. "No response?" She questioned teasingly.

"You're- fuck." She slotted her knee in between your thighs, causing a groan to escape your lips. "You're so fucking addicting."

Her smirk could be felt against your neck for a split second before she pulled away, looking down at you with her cocky expression. "Thought we had to keep things professional?"

i didnt really know where else to go with this one bc tbh i didnt really feel like writing smut for it, but i hope you guys enjoy! i also have a decent amount of requests to respond to, so pls be patient w me while i try and navigate the last 10 days of my classes, up through graduation, and writing these things 😪😪

#nika muhl #uconn wbb #lgbtq #nika muhl x reader #wlw #seattle storm #wnba

[after-witch]

Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You're an artist, with no muse. Until Mahito shows up on your back porch.

Word count: 3500ish

notes: yandere, mild body horror, reader is a trans male

“I want you to paint me,” Mahito says, with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. No smile, no leer today. Just a somber frown as he appears from nowhere--as he often does--and sits himself in front of you. 

The cool summer evening air would smell as clean as the breeze, but for the cigarette lazily perched in the ashtray on the edge of the porch. 

Smoking.  Your one vice. Or is it your eighth? You don’t keep much track of your vices, these days. If you did, you might actually try to quit them. But smoking is one of two current addictions that you can’t fathom letting go of right now.

The other one is sitting next to you.

"Like one of my French girls?” you murmur, lips quirking up. 

Mahito tilts his head towards you, still frowning. You wonder, idly, if he has an actual brain inside his skull. Do curses have brains? You’re not sure about the technicalities of how they function, but it’s not something you’d really like to ask Mahito, either.

But it’s like you can see his brain working from the minute movements of his body language. The body is one thing you’re usually good at reading, and you ought to be, considering your career. No one wanted paintings from someone who didn’t understand the basics of body movement.

“Ah,” he says, finally, with a small smile. “Titanic. Directed by James Cameron. 1997.” His smile gets a little perkier. On anyone else, that smile might look deranged. But it suits Mahito, you think.

“I liked the sinking part the best. The way they…” He flicks his fingers in the air, and makes an eerily accurate sound reminiscent of bodies banging against metal parts. “And the frozen baby!” He closes his eyes almost all the way, leaving just enough room for you to see his gaze slide over to you. “Humans do love representing their own misery, don’t they?”

Something squeezes in your chest. It might have been a barb about you and your work; and it might not have been. One of the trickiest things about Mahito was that you could never be sure when he was trying to hurt you, and when he wasn’t. 

The worst part was, you knew that it didn’t matter either way. It wasn’t like you’d ever ask him to leave. He knew that, too. Maybe that was the actual worst part.

He doesn’t elaborate on his statement. Instead, he leans his head back, looking at the darkening sky; the deep blue of the evening oozing away to make room for the blacker part of the night. His profile like this is fascinating--the way his hair seems to almost shimmer in the fading light, falling back against the side of his neck. 

“Well?” He asks.

You couldn’t say no. You were already imagining ways to capture him, like this. In profile, staring up at the sky with eyes that were anything but human. With a brain that was perhaps not a real brain. With a body he could change at will. 

Despite all that, here he is, sitting on your porch, breathing in your cigarette smoke and staring up at the ordinary evening sky.

What does he see that you don’t? That no human does? Why does he even come around you, when he could be off trying to--your brain fumbles for snatches of what he’s told you--battling sorcerers? 

Maybe you can capture something of the answer in your painting. 

“Okay,” you say, lightly, even though the answer is anything but. “But we have to go inside for the sketch. There’s not enough light out here this late.”

Mahito smiles. In profile, you see only the half of it, the edge of his lips curling, a glimpse of his teeth. 

You’ll be up all night sketching, trying to capture this expression. 

--

Your first finished painting of Mahito isn’t all that great. The evening skyline was done from memory because the next few days had been cloudy and they stole the sky’s normal colors away. And no amount of mixing could quite give you the right shade for his hair; you put something new on order, a type of shimmer pigment. That might help for future pieces.

The expression, though. There was something in that. Something not quite human that you managed to capture, although if you had to do it over, you’d reconsider taking your drawing from sketch to painting. The sketch had something raw to it, like Mahito might just turn his head and wink at you. 

As an artist, you knew that such a subject was rare. It was not always easy to find inspiration that kept you working almost relentlessly, eager and passionate rather than staring at an empty canvas and willing the world to send something to you.

Mahito was a gift, wasn’t he? To an artist. To someone like you, who needed something to make your work stand out. And it does, here. Mahito looks unusual--striking, beautiful, but with something unpleasant itching to get out from underneath his skin. 

But still. It’s flawed. 

And that’s not the standard artist humble-brag designed to avoid a reputation of pompous pride. Your paintings, as a whole, just aren’t good enough. 

It’s why the galleries rejected you. Why what few connections you had with other painters tended to fade away, becoming more and more untethered as they were invited to galas, as they held openings, as their works went to auction, and you…

You sat on your porch smoking and waiting, heart pacing, for a curse to show up on your door.

--

Mahito stands in front of the revealed piece, quietly observing it. His fingers reach out and skim the canvas, bumping along a few rough areas of paint. His mouth parts a few times, then closes. 

You expect him to be blunt with some kind of critique. He’s never been shy with honesty, no matter how hurtful. It was something you hated and loved all with one confusing, awful sameness.

Instead, his gaze flits over every square of the canvas enough times that sweat begins to bead down the back of your neck. Does he hate it? Is he about to tell you that you’d be better off doing something else, something more ordinary, something more mundane? 

No.

What he does is turn his head towards you, slowly, something that is not quite a smile on his face. An expression that makes you think of the back porch, sunsets and cigarette smoke. 

“Now do it again.”

--

You should hate this, really. Someone who sticks around and more or less demands that they be your muse. Most artists purge these types of people from their lives, unwanted flypaper hangers-on who pout and demand to be painted. 

But Mahito is your muse, and you don’t hate it, and you don’t think he’s clingy or desperate like others who have found themselves on your back porch before. 

He’s your muse simply because he exists. You could not fathom knowing Mahito and not committing him to the canvas. The only shock is that it was his idea, not yours; and maybe, deep down, you were too afraid to ever ask him. In case he said no.

So you draw him, and paint him. He drapes himself over your couch wearing nothing, spreads himself on your bed with winter clothes in the summer heat; perches on the end of the kitchen stool and watches gnats circle a bowl of bananas. 

The ideas are his, mostly. 

And the pieces are interesting. “Intriguing,” your regular art gallery said, when you submitted the one of Mahito sprawled out in a fuzzy scarf and hat and puffy winter coat while sweat clung to his forehead from the summer afternoon sun.

Interesting, intriguing, a striking model… and yet. They’re still not enough--not enough to get paid. Not enough to get noticed. 

Not enough to get you out of bed some days, when all you want to do is smoke lying down and hope the smoke alarm in your bedroom still has low batteries. 

This is how Mahito finds you this morning. Half-resting on sore elbows while smoke wafts up to your  ceiling, imperceptibly adding to the layers of brown and yellow build up. 

“Hey.”

He pokes your nose. You blink, slowly turn your gaze towards him. Then close your eyes and let out another puff of smoke.

“You’re being mopey,” he says, flatly. Not teasing or whining, certainly not with sympathy. Just a matter-of-fact. 

The options weigh heavy on your shoulders. It’s not like you two don’t talk about serious things. But God, with Mahito, the roles are reversed between artist and muse. You’re the clingy one, the one desperate to keep him around; afraid that the wrong word or gesture might make him blip out of your life as quickly as he came into it.

Who were you, if you didn’t have Mahito? Just another failing artist who could barely afford their cigarette addiction. 

But you trust him. Because he’s here. Because he hasn’t left yet. Because when you’re drawing him and you ask him to lift his arm up, he somehow knows the exact angle you mean, every time. So you lick your lips and look up at him with tired, reddened eyes.

“They’re not enough.” A pause. “The paintings, I mean. No one will buy them.” You drop the rest of your cigarette in the ashtray on your night stand. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

You do know, though. Your paintings aren’t interesting enough anymore. What little buzz you’d generated in your first break onto the scene from your fantastical horror work had long since faded, as had your inspiration for such pieces. 

It wasn’t enough to play with color and light, to perfectly capture the sun through an opaque curtain playing on Mahito’s hair while black flies buzzed onto overripe fruit. Of course not. People wanted more. You just weren’t more, now. If you were ever that. 

Mahito crawls onto your bed, languid; it’s not the first time he’s been so close, so intimate, but it gives you goosebumps nonetheless. He curls himself behind your back and runs a finger down your arm. 

“They like your older work,” he muses. You’ve ranted about this, and he apparently listened, which makes you feel at least a little least sour. “So why don’t you paint like that again?”

So much for feeling a little less sour. You curl inwards, eyes fixated on the dimming red glow of your cigarette in its tray. 

Mahito pokes your shoulder. Impatience. You can feel it building in him, in the way his arm muscles tense, just a little. When he gets bored, he sometimes leaves. 

You don’t want him to leave, so you force the words out, although you’d rather keep them private. Your mouth feels sticky when you talk, but you press on. 

“My old stuff was before…” You know he knows, but you’ve never pinned down a single way to explain it to him. “Before I figured myself out. Before a lot of things, I guess.” Mahito’s hand wraps itself around your stomach, and you reach out to intertwine your fingers. To keep him with you, if such a thing were possible.

“I haven’t had the same type of inspiration in a long time,” you admit. “So I don’t know how to just…” Flashes of your old canvases come to mind. Demons and ghosts and landscapes of terrible beauty. “Get back into that head space.”

There is a stretch of silence that begins to worry you. Maybe you are too boring, maybe you’re whining, maybe whatever this is has run its course and he’ll leave and you’ll have nothing to your name but this empty apartment and your empty life.

But then Mahito grips your shoulder and pushes you firmly, swiftly, onto your back. There’s a dull ache where he touches you and you stare up into his eyes, wide and bright even in the darkness. He’s grinning. He’s grinning, and it’s beautiful and ugly--

And on his side, arms sprout out; some with mouths sporting their own grins. Behind him, arms upon arms,  hands upon hands. A grotesque vision come to life in your dim apartment bedroom. You can see it now, on canvas. A creature with greedy hands outstretched to the world, taking what it wants, when it wants. 

You can see Mahito, posting, while you furiously work at the easel. You know you’ll work until your hands cramp, desperate enough to capture every microexpression in pencil before it fades. 

Mahito, the muse, painted again and again. Until your hands cramp, until your eyes are red and burning. 

“Does this inspire you?” he says, a bright giddiness in his tone fading into something lower and warmer as he leans down to capture your lips.

You’re not certain which of you tastes the most of ashes.

--

The paintings are perfectly grotesque. Inspirational. Disturbing.

“And yet,” the director continues, tapping his pen against his chin, “so life-like. You can hardly tell where the real model ends and your imagination begins.” 

Because, of course, humans cannot sprout extra limbs from their sides. Humans cannot stretch their tongues to wrap around their body like a rope. Humans cannot pull open the flesh of their stomachs to reveal what’s inside.

Not without dying, anyway. 

You’d almost asked Mahito if that was what curses looked like on the inside--if they had organs, like stomachs and lungs--but thought better of it. Knowing would be worse than pretending. 

When you pretend, you can ignore the growing sickness in your stomach as the paintings become worse--and better. As Mahito pushes you farther and farther, and you’re not sure if you want to turn back. 

When you pretend, life with Mahito doesn’t seem very fucked up at all. 

“Keep it up,” the director tells you, thumbing through the wad of ghastly cash he hands over for your latest piece. It’s enough to pay off your rent and bills and cover cigarettes and booze and some new books for Mahito, though you’re sure he just steals them when he’s not with you. 

And you do--keep it up.

Because Mahito wants to, and because despite all the disturbing dreams you begin to have after sessions of drawing and painting, your new works really are better. More visceral and alive; galleries want them. 

They want you.

You feel seen, finally, for who you are and what your hands can do--

How could you turn that away?

--

“I don’t know,” you say, slowly, watching the thing Mahito brought with him writhe on the table. 

It was soft and gelatinous, like a blob of moving goo. At first, that’s what you thought it was: something he scooped out of a container at a toy store that sold novelty slimes. 

But this wasn’t some gob of bright orange or neon blue with a telltale sticky sheen that told parents that yes, mom and dad, this was going to wind up sticking to the carpet by the end of the day.

This was light beige, with two big black spots that looked a bit like eyes. It was larger than you think a toy slime would have been and it--well it moved. Really moved. Not just from a slight breeze drifting in through the window or due to its own gelatinous nature.

It was--whatever it was--alive. 

It had eyes, and perhaps that bit of discolored beige was hair, and that was it. Two eyes, slick, shiny skin, and no mouth at all. 

“It’s a statement piece,” Mahito says simply, even happily, as he adjusts the blob to his liking on the table. He tries out a series of poses that you direct with hesitation--looking down at it with his chin resting in his elbow, holding it in his arms like some sort of stuffed bear, endless, restless poses, all punctuated by the strange writhing of the thing.

The two of you finally settle for Mahito looking one way, and the blob--were those its eyes?--facing another. A contrast between colors and shapes and Mahito’s lithe form and the writhing blob. But while there is a dim satisfaction in putting Mahito onto the canvas, a sense of self-worth and pride that grows with every stroke, you put off working on the blob until the last possible minute. Your body seems to know why, even if your mind doesn’t. 

At the end of the night, you start to ask a question that’s been on your mind the entire evening--

“Mahito?” 

But when he turns, a small smile on his face, blob in hand, the words die in your throat.

You say nothing as he leaves. You work a little more on the painting, avoiding half the canvas, not wanting to think about what it was that Mahito brought and why he brought it.

That night, you dream about a garden of squirming, writhing blobs.

--

Today, Mahito has no mouth. 

And today, you’ve decided, that this will be your last Mahito piece. No more. Not a single one. The singular lack of a mouth is not even as horrific as some of the other ways Mahito has posed for you, but somehow, it’s the one that terrifies you the most. 

Mahito has no mouth, and you can’t even ask him why.

Mahito has no mouth--

Mahito has no mouth, and he wants you to paint him.

He tells you this, in gestures. Maybe if he was over the top about it--if he was wildly waving his hands, if he made a game of it--then it wouldn’t make you feel so wrong. But he’s slow, methodical. Serious.

It makes your stomach clench on nothing but whisky and overcooked eggs. 

But you let him bring out one of your mirrors and set it up in front of a stool so you can paint him, looking at himself in the glass. There’s nothing else you can do but this, you realize; that’s what your life has come to. You are mingling with a curse and he could kill you in a moment if he wanted to--but right now, he wants you to draw him and paint him and put something monumentally distressing on the canvas. And you want to do these things--because he wants you to? Because you know the gallery owner is going to take one look at this last piece and ask you to open your own show? Love or ego or something awful and in-between?

You sketch quickly. It’s the final layers of painting that will take days, you think, if you want this to turn out right. Right now you’re worried about two things: capturing the tones while the light is just right, and how Mahito will react when you tell him you’re done after this.

It’s not like you can tell him now. He can’t even talk. 

What is it like, without a mouth? You bring cigarettes to your lips and wonder if he feels jealous of it. Would he get mad, if you told him you needed a drink? A snack? Eating and drinking--curses can do these things, and you’ve seen Mahito do them, but you don’t know how much of it is a want or a need. It’s hard enough to tell the difference with a human. 

If you had no mouth, what would you be? Your thoughts flit, briefly and then away again, to the blob. To its eyes. To the way it couldn’t stop moving and Mahito held it like a toy. 

You don’t want to think about that. 

It would feel wrong to talk while you work on this piece, you decide. Better to save it for when it’s finished. A few days, at most, with Mahito holed up in your bedroom--and no mouth at all. 

In these few days, you want to kiss him more than ever. Want to capture the memory of his lips, because surely, he’ll want to leave if you’re done painting him. Done being entertaining. 

The thought of kissing the awful, empty space where his mouth should be keeps you from even thinking about it.

--

It’s your masterpiece. You know this from the moment the last stroke is complete. You’ll never top this work, and some prideful part of you demands that you try, anyway. 

Mahito still has no mouth. Even as you pull the drape off the canvas, as he gets close to inspect it. 

“Mahito,” you say, suddenly. He doesn’t look at you. That’s better, you think. Makes it easier to stomach what will come next; the inevitable moment where Mahito drops you like an old toy. Usually it’s the other way around, an artist getting bored of its muse and flinging them aside. 

But you’re not bored of Mahito. You’re afraid of him. You want him here--but you don’t. It’s a big jumbled mess and maybe it would have been easier if he never showed up on your back porch, if you never saw him at all, if he hadn’t opened up some wound inside you that only he can stitch up. 

“Mahito,” you repeat. “I don’t think I can paint you anymore.” Stupid, weasel words. You cringe. “I mean. I don’t want to paint you anymore--after this one.”

Mahito tilts his head, and finally turns his eyes towards you--but still, there’s no mouth, no mouth, no mouth.

After a moment, you continue, mouth dry and sticking. “Did you hear me, I said I--”

Mahito’s hand slaps against your own, hushing you.

“Have you been wondering what it feels like?” It takes a few blearly, confusing moments for you to realize that Mahito is talking not with lips on his face, but on the hand that’s pressed over yours. “To be unable to speak?”

The awful thought hits you. Is your mouth even still there, under Mahito’s hand? 

Mahito leans in, and pulls his hand away. Slowly, like he’s revealing a prize .

“I want to paint you now,” he murmurs. He might even be cooing, eyes alight at what he sees as he lifts his hand. 

You want to answer him--you want to scream.

But you can’t say a word. 

#yandere mahito #mahito x reader #yandere jjk #yandere #afterwitch writes #was the titanic reference necessary? yes. yes it was.

[e-vay]

What makes Sonamy not just a “Standard Couple” to you? What is the uniqueness in this relationship? I’m talking officially and in multimedia.

Such a big question… woof! I think… the reason Sonamy will always be the standout OTP is they represent pure love to me. Pure love is happiness. Love is meant to be fun!

I think Sonic and Amy have this wonderful dynamic that is so playful no matter what life throws at them.

Sonic is a free spirit and he feels the most joy when he’s running. I think he really enjoys the cat and mouse game that he and Amy play. He could easily outrun her, but whenever she chases him around he always stays within arm’s reach. In his own weird, quirky, not-good-at-expressing-my-feelings-kind-of way, I think this is Sonic’s way of sharing his joy with Amy. I don’t see it as “I’m running away from you.” I see it as “Run with me.”

I’m also always just completely overcome with emotion with Amy’s dedication and love for Sonic. To cherish someone so genuinely, to give your heart to someone unconditionally and without the expectation they’re going to reciprocate those feelings, that's real love. And in canon she's not this pained thing for doing that, either. She just loves freely and openly and is her happiest self when she's showing affection. I think her constant flirting and (though she doesn’t do this anymore) marriage proposals are just her rascally way to say “I find you and your way of life and everything you do romantic. I’m not actually asking you to do anything different. Just let me love you for you.”

There are plenty of ships out there that are full of angst/heartbreak/DRAMA/etc and believe me, I’m here for it. And I’m even here for when people apply those themes to Sonamy (I do it too!). But I think why I’m so naturally drawn to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic as it’s portrayed in canon is because it’s usually so fun and playful and happy. I think the world needs more of that. That’s why I always refer to them as my cotton-candy couple, not just because of their colors but because they’re so sweet and bright! 💙💖

#ask me #evayQA #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #cotton candy couple #evay rants #FAQ #sonic trash

[j4ygyu]

all i want is you | pjs

pairing: loverboy!jay x reader

genre: angst, fluff

summary: idk how to summarize this🙏🏻

<a/n> little women reference used cope w it 🤣

you hear it, the teasing glances and the whispers as you walk around the school. it’s been like this ever since jay, the popular guy at school had asked you out about 2 months ago during valentines. 

“hey look it’s your girlfriend” you hear it very clearly, but you know what they want, they want a reaction out of you. 

you still turn your head to the side to look and jay seems.. embarrassed? sad? you weren’t good at reading people so you never tried that hard either. 

there wasn’t anything negative about you or your looks, it was just the people around you who did not value you. but sometimes you did tend to forget and let your emotions control you.

same way, 2 months ago when jay had asked you out, private proposal. it was pretty unusal to you, you thought it was some kind of prank, you still do, like some kind of bet. 

so you just stared into his soul that day, without responding you nervously just bowed at him and excused yourself. 

few other students saw and reported it to their friends and slowlt by the next day, the rumor spread like a wildfire.

yes jay’s ego was hurt, you expected him to look down at you after that day but later on he just showed up with “i will win you.”

maybe he watched a movie and got motivated off it? 

you did like him back, no doubt in that but all your life you’ve felt like you were in a competition and always losing it so you just let things be. 

there was someone else who wanted him, some other of your classmate, yunjin.

so you just did not want to be in all this drama, yunjin already despised you, you did not want to make things worse. 

you head back to class as soon as recess is over, ignoring all the whispers and the look of envy you recieve from yunjin.

“what is going on?” wincing in pain as yunjin pushes you onto some wall with a sudden question.

“what the fuck do you want?” you ask back as she laughs at your face “i thought i told you to stay away from jay?” you could’ve fought back to get out of her grip, but come on she had two girls behind her making sure nobody sees. 

“i did, we haven’t spoken in a while” you say as you grab her hand harshly and pull it away “and, don’t touch me.” 

the sternness in your voice intimidated her, you could tell by the way she was gulping, even though you appeared weak you still were strong enough to fight back so they could not do much.

“then why the fuck is a rumor about jay dropping all his friends for you going on?” she says as you look at her, not even surprised cause you were already done with this school and it’s rumors. 

she steps back “god have you like casted a spell on him? why the fuck does he even want you?” looking at you in disbelief if you have caused it.

shrugging, “don’t know and don’t care” you say as yunjin tries to trap you between her and the wall again but the teacher calls out

‘what are you girls doing? get to class right now’

she gives you the dirtiest smirk known to man kind as you stare into her soul back with a poker face, not feeding onto her little trick. 

deciding to talk it out with jay, during second break you visit him near the playground area.

“why would you choose me when you can have her? i mean she has everything i don’t” oh the way jay could answer this in a paragraph.

“she has everything but she is not you okay? she is a piece of shit who goes around and bullies people, just like she has bullied you your entire life at school” you can audibly hear breaths leaving his mouth, desperation of wanting you really evident now.

your gazes piecered each other’s souls, staring deeply, somewhere deep down you knew there was some spark as your chest tightened oh how bad i want you jay.

“you’re what everyone wants jay. i am someone they spit on and walk past. nobody wants us together.” you confessed absentmindedly. 

“why do you care about what they think?” he asked, “its always been like that, you were a bystander too before you liked me” he lowers his head out of embarrassment.

knowing there is nothing more to add in to the arguement, you slide your hands in the pockets of your uniform skirt and walk away.

little did you both know, yunjin was eavesdropping everything and rage of jealousy filled her making her undereye twitch.

class dismissed.

it is finally the end of the day, the bell rings as the sounds of everyone packing their bags fill your ears. 

jay’s class was right infront of yours, but unfortunately yunjin was still in your class so you just couldn’t avoid her for some reason, knowing you’re under her sight almost all the time. 

she walks out first as you go extra slow, too tired for anything. 

out of luck, no body stops you to tease you today, everyone annoying out of your sight. 

walking down the alley as everyone else, it was almost empty and not crowded as usual, as you realise you came out late. shit what was i dreaming about.

something captures your eyes, but you were captured someone’s eyes way long before you noticed, it was yunjin, she saw you walking back home to school and grabbed the opportunity out of her luck that jay was walking back too at the same time. 

“oh- jayie” she calls out for him as he diverts his attnetion to her now raising his eyebrows, “can i have some water.” she asks faking tiredness.

jay cringes at her but still reaches for his side pockets of his bag. 

as he is doing that, yunjin watches carefully as you walk closer, minding ur own business.

thats it as soon as jay looks back up yunjin pushes him to the nearest wall holding him by his tie and kisses him. 

she kisses him so hungrily, ignoring his pushes, finally jay gives her one sudden push that makes her lose her balance and fall over “dude what the fuck?”

“did she see it?” she thinks to herself directly looking back at you as she sees you standing there, amused and disappointed. 

jay looks at yunjin but realizes that she is looking somewhere else, his gaze follows her as his mind freezes for a short second. 

you slowly meet his eyes, he could feel the rage in your eyes, your face completely showing numb as turn your eyes back to your path and continue walking. 

you walked as fast as you could avoiding him calling out your name, running behind you. 

jay thought to himself, this is the most of my desperation i can show. mix of anger, love and worry on his face. 

“just stop jay.” 

both of you stop in your tracks as he pants swiping his sweat off, bending down taking supporting of his knee. 

he uses all his energy to keep his head high, it was like your and his eyes were magnets, once attached you could physically feel the burden of breaking it. 

“why don’t you get it? just leave me!” you scream from a distance at the top of your lungs, catching your breath as soon as you were done with your words. 

your feet faces back to your path as you continue walking fast, you could hear his footsteps fastening again, you did not quit either as you start running back

“i have loved you ever since i’ve known you y/n why dont you get it”his voice ringed in your ears as you cried after each word, eyes getting teary and blurry. 

that’s when you gave up and lost it all, crying right there on the spot. “what jay?” you ask as you shut close your eyes, your lips trembling and so were the words.

he didn’t stop, continued to approach you and close the distance, shaking you by the shoulder, even though the action seemed harsh it felt so soft, “why don’t you just accept this? why don’t you just accept me? what do i lack?”

what do i lack. 

someone so perfect like him had feelings like that too, about a total complete loser like you? after all he was just a person, just like you. 

you opened your eyes, your eyes met his as the world went quiet, his narrowed eyes staring at you, the tension in the air mixed with all your emotions crashing with each other. 

both of you taking deep breaths and panting hard, feeling the heat radiating off each other, “i gave up everything you didn’t like, cant you see? i’m happy i did its fine and i waited and i will wait and i never complained..

and i-“

you kiss his lips to shut him up, the sensation in his heart goes crazy as you feel his muscles go loose, knees bucking as sense of weakness. 

you hold his face, sharp bones of his jawline and cheekbones right in contact with your palm, he was so warm. his lips were like pillows, so soft.

his head spins around, incapable of coping with the moment. you pull back

“you know i figured you’d love me y/n.” he says without thinking as if he was on auto pilot 

“oh god how much i love you” you kiss his lips once again grabbing his collar to pull him closer.

you couldn’t hold onto it any longer maybe this is what everythings meant to be. 

#enhypen fluff #park jongseong #enhypen x reader #enha #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #jay fluff

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #smut #tw: stepcest #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #dead dove do not eat #Stepdad! Leon Kennedy

[silverameco]

Secret Relationship - @wolfstarmicrofic - 746 words

What Sirius didn't forseen, is that a secret relationship implied a secret break-up. Hidden love meant hidden sadness when it was all over. To be completely honest, he never thought it would end at all. He should have known, though, that he would find a way to ruin everything.

It had been a week. A week since Remus said I can't keep doing this. I don't want to be your secret anymore. A week since Sirius was stuck with the secret tears he shed every night, and the awful knowledge than the boy he loved was so close all the time - across the bedroom, the classroom or the dinner table - and yet so far away.

He didn't know what to do. They were so good together. Like friends, but better. All those secret meetings, passionate kisses behind closed doors and heated moments in the intimacy of silencing spells, all of it made Sirius feel more alive than ever. And now it was all over, because of him.

Nobody knew about them. Because he was so scared. Of the world, of himself. So scared he couldn't let himself take Remus' hand in an empty corridor, he couldn't show all the love he felt, couldn't tell the world about how amazing Remus was. But he wanted to. He really wanted to. He didn't even realize Remus drifted away from him, until it was too late. And now he didn't know what to do to fix it. He couldn't tell anyone about it, because nobody knew about them. Because it was like it never existed at all, even though it felt like the only real thing Sirius ever lived.

Well, it was without one James Potter to count on. He was cornered in the dorm one evening, before they went down to dinner. Sirius was sitting on his bed, James joined him and began talking before he could think about fleeing.

"Oi you wanker, what's up with you and Moony ?"

"Um, nothing ?" he felt himself flush with the blatant lie.

"Sirius. You've both been looking like miserable sods for days, and you're barely talking to each other."

Sirius didn't answer, and kept his eyes fixated on his hands, playing with a loose thread from his bedsheets. He didn't know what to say that wasn't a lie. It didn't deter James.

"You've both been so happy these past months. I thought-"

At that, Sirius raised his head to look at James, eyes wide and beseeching. Maybe he wanted someone to know, after all. "You thought ?"

"Well, that you were together."

He said it with a soft voice and a kind smile. Like maybe, it was all okay. Except it wasn't, because they weren't together anymore. He felt the tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh, Pads. What happened ?"

Next thing he knew, he was pulled into a hug, and Sirius was sobbing into James' chest.

"I- I ruined everything. Because I w-was so- so scared. And now he d-doesn't want me any- anymore."

"Padfoot, listen to me. I don't know what happened exactly, but I know that Remus has been looking at you like a lovesick idiot for years. You can't ruin that. I'm sure it's fixable, okay ?"

Before Sirius could answer, the door opened on no other than Remus himself. Sirius straightened himself, hastily wiping his tears.

"Er- sorry, I-"

But then their eyes met, and it was like Remus didn't know what he was going to say anymore. He seemed lost, looking at Sirius' teary face like it was hurting him. Sirius noticed that the circles under his eyes were darker than usual. He wanted to erase them. Before he could think about what he was doing, he got up and stepped in front of Remus.

"Moony." he said in a small, tentative voice, that he barely recognized as his own.

"Yeah ?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I love you. I want to be with you. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell everyone yet, but I don't want us to be a secret either. So, if by any chance, you still want me-"

And then, Remus' lips were on his, just like that. Like they've never been apart in the first place, because they shouldn't be. James was cheering obnoxiously behind them and it felt right, because they were too good together, loved each other too much to be a secret.

#of course James knows #silv writes things #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #james potter wolfstar shipper #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

[skysiren41]

My 2 cents on the Jax controversy (and why I still like him)

Since the release of episode 2 of TADC I've seen a lot of people (mostly on twitter) go from loving Jax to despising him overnight, it's gotten to the point where some are accusing Goose of retconning Jax. He's definitely grown to be the most devisive character and I wanna throw my 2 cents on the discussion

I think the reason why so many people are angry and accusing the show of retconning Jax is cause some people got attached to THEIR version of Jax. During the wait between episodes when the fandom was at its peak a lot of fans made a lot of headcanons of the characters and how they thought they would act just from the pilot, including Jax, to the point where some forgot just how much of a asshole he was in the pilot. So when Jax didn't match up with how some fans headcanoned him and they were reminded just how selfish and cruel he can get, yeah a lot of them weren't happy. Even though Goose made it clear MULTIPLE times in posts and tweets that Jax was gonna be a massive asshole in the series, a lot of people either didn't know about these tweets, or ignored them because they didn't like the idea of their headcanon being 'threatened'. It's gotten to the point where some are acussing people who still like Jax of being abusers or endorsing abuse. To me that's incredibly silly, just because someone likes a character who is a jerk or a villain doesn't mean that they themselves are like that or endorse said characters actions

Personally I love they didn't hold back on how much of a jerk he was towards everyone, it's really hard to write jerk characters that are also funny (Mindy Kailing's Velma is a good example on how this can be done poorly) and I think they did a good job writing Jax, he's a jerk that you wanna see get his comeuppance but he's funny enough to not make him unbearable

Apparently Goose has said that he's gonna get worse as the series goes on to the point that he does something unforgivable later in the season, I'm really curious just how far there gonna push him and if this is hinting at him becoming a full fledged antagonist or if after he does his unforgivable act he finally starts to become a better person. But either way I'm really excited to see what there gonna do with this smug purple rabbit

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #digital circus #tadc ep 2 #tadc episode 2 #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc jax #jax #tadc spoilers

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: what indicates cheating (and other negative traits that lead to cheating/deception)?

i feel like it is very important to look at the individual person's relationship and relationship blocker on top of all this. usually the top corners in the compatibility web are beneficial to how a person acts in the relationship but certain numbers can be troubling. in this case, a personal one to my family, this man was VERY good at lying and gaslighting, and he really crushed my family member (unfortunately, she is still very much attached to him - curse that 13 core; they just can't quit one another)... so 18 for example could go either way: very good at self-reflection/empathizing or very good at lying... the main focus though in the bottom corners - what the weakness in for each person (feminine for feminine and masculine for masculine) in the connection. the relationship blockage and relationship numbers in the compatibility web shouldn't be ignored though as they show mutuality (she did start lying to him about where she was and what she was doing).

22 - the fool

these people commonly feel like they can pull the wool over others eyes. they take risks where the relationship is concerned without thinking of the other person involved.

1 - the magician

they often feel like they can do and say whatever they want in the relationship without any consequences. they have the tendency to manipulate their partner and emotionally gaslit given the situation.

6 - the lovers

codependency is pretty common but also very important - this energy is ruled by gemini. thusly communication is key. on a low vibration or as a blockage number, there is a lack of communication.

7 - the chariot

these people are quick to switch up. they will stay with you but only until they find someone who shares their same mentality and vision for the future. they could also lack self-confidence, and thusly seek validation from more than just who they are in a relationship with.

12 - the hanged man

these are the people who are quick to play victim. they might project their faults on to you - if they cheated, then they might question your loyalty in return.

15 - the devil

this is a toxic relationship to begin with and when on a personal lines this person is more likely to seek out lust than love. codependency and controlling nature is also present.

18 - the moon

if these people have not done self-reflection, they will 100% cheat and deceive others in a relationship due to immaturity and avoidance of fault finding.

19 - the sun

these are the people that think that the grass is greener on the other side and who tend to be immature in a relationship (often, they are in a connection for a good time but not for a long time). ghosting is common and so is desiring an open relationship.

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© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #tarot witch #tarot art #daily tarot #rider waite tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarotdaily #wyrd web #web of wyrd #matrix of destiny #matrix of fate

[captain-hawks]

Reiner and brat taming?

reiner braun x f!reader + established jean kirstein x f!reader

In which Jean tells Reiner that he wouldn't be able to handle his bratty girlfriend in bed.

c: brat taming, oral fixation, spanking, masturbation, voyeurism, spit kink, implied threesome, band au

-> spicy sleepover

“Suck his dick.”

You turn to glance over at Jean as he takes another drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a bright orange in the dimly lit room. He’s sitting on the other side of the bed, leaning against the wall with one ankle hooked over the other, lips curled upward in the ghost of a smirk. A shiver runs through you. Tilting his head back, Jean blows a puff of smoke upward toward the ceiling before eyeing the man sitting beside you. 

Reiner’s blonde hair is mussed and sweaty from the show they played earlier, his shirt long-since discarded on the floor of yours and Jean’s bedroom, tattooed chest on full display. He’s yet to work his way out of his jeans, though the zipper remains undone with his cock hanging out of his boxers. His shaft is hard and flushed red, courtesy of the way you’d unceremoniously climbed into his lap after palming him through his pants, thus unable to resist the urge to feel his long, thick erection pressing against the wet heat between your thighs.

He’s not quite as big as Jean (who had quietly snorted when you murmured as much, “Told you she’s a fucking brat.”)

—but still big enough that you know he’ll have tears pricking at the corners of your eyes once he’s seated inside of you, and the thought has your mouth watering.

You're not entirely sure how the three of you ended up here—an off-handed challenge caught somewhere between post-show beers and a suggestive comment from Reiner that had Jean sputtering out a laugh as he glanced at you fondly and muttered, "I don't think you could handle her."

Now, Reiner’s chest rises and falls steadily as he looks at you expectantly, and as much as you want to see just how deep down your throat you can take his cock, you can’t make things that easy for him. 

You certainly don’t for Jean.

And by the way Jean’s been not-so-subtly pressing the palm of his hand against his steadily growing erection, you know he’s eager to see how this will play out, too.

“Make me.”

Reiner looks to Jean, who takes another drag before he nods. 

“C’mere.”

You stare at Reiner, raising an eyebrow before you feign indifference, glancing down at your nails instead. Jean chuckles, and you wonder how long he’s going to let this play out before Reiner’s suddenly right in front of you, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“Did you hear me?” His voice is low and rough, and you can feel the calluses that litter his fingers from the strings of his bass guitar. 

Though you nod once, slowly, you make no move to do anything else, and he notices, making an affirming noise in response. His hand slides lower, fingertips wrapping around your neck, and he leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Only good girls get fucked.”

You place your hands on either side of his face, pressing a kiss to mouth before slowly running your tongue along his bottom lip. “And what about bad girls?”

“Baby, you’re really asking for it,” Jean laughs darkly, running a hand through his hair, his voice still a little rough around the edges from singing earlier.

Reiner traces his fingers along the outline of your lips, and your mouth falls open slightly of its own accord, inviting him to press two inside. An appraising noise rumbles in his throat as you take the digits down to the knuckle, a fresh flood of arousal dripping between your legs while you suck on his fingers. 

“See, you do know how to use that mouth,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the little whine you let out with he pulls his fingers out with a pop. “Now open.”

The moment your lips part, Reiner gives your throat a gentle caress before muttering, “Good girl,” and spitting in your mouth.

This time, you outright moan, clenching your thighs together as you swallow his saliva, shamelessly opening your mouth in a silent invitation for him to spit in it again. Meanwhile, you trail a hand up his thigh, reaching for his cock.

“You want more? You wanna suck my dick now?” he asks, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

You nod, fingertips closing over his shaft, but he bats you away. “Too bad, get on your knees.”

Your underwear are sopping wet at this point, and sticky arousal now drips down the inside of your thighs beneath your skirt—the only two items of clothing you’re still wearing. 

Following his instructions, you prop yourself up on your hands and knees and face Jean, whose lust-blown pupils are trained on you as he strokes his achingly hard shaft. Turning back to Reiner, you tease him with a lilt in your voice, “If Jean fits in both holes, you definitely will. So take your pick.”

Jean raises an eyebrow, biting his lip in amusement as he starts to jack himself off a little harder. Meanwhile, without warning, your skirt is shoved up and your underwear pulled off in one fluid movement. 

“Count to ten.”

Before you can come up with another snarky response, Reiner’s palm comes down on your ass—hard. You let out a yelp, body singing with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Reiner waits for you to comply, fingers ghosting over your dripping folds but denying you anything further.

You whine, and Jean shakes his head with a grin and silently mouths, “One.”

“One,” you exhale.

Reiner smacks your ass again, harder this time, and you nearly collapse forward, moaning as you feel fresh slick drip from your cunt and onto the sheets below.

“Jesus Christ,” Reiner murmurs, groaning at the sight before him.

“Yeah, she gets really fucking wet,” Jean adds helpfully.

It continues like this—Reiner spanking you, Jean mouthing the number you’re on because your lust-addled brain can’t keep up, not when all you want to do is moan and whimper and drool into the pillows. 

“Ten,” you finally cry out, legs trembling hard as your needy, empty pussy spasms between your soaking wet thighs, sinfully close to the edge of an orgasm that you're on the verge of begging for at this point.

“Think she deserves it yet?” Reiner asks Jean, soothingly running a hand over your sore ass.

The mattress shifts as Jean comes closer, the familiar, comforting sense of his cologne invading your senses as he tips your head upward to look at him. His touch is feather-light as he caresses your face, mouth capturing your own in a heated kiss that nearly has you climbing into his lap.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, before pressing another kiss to your temple. And then to Reiner, “I think she deserves both of us now.”

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirchstein x reader #jean kirchstein #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan fanfiction #dee writes #spicy sleepover with captain-hawks

[etherealily]

𝟡 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Darker. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 1 : Whiplash (thanks for the love on there)

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You should be grateful.

════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ════════════════════

He wasn't supposed to text you. He was supposed to take the beating you'd given him for being a prick, like a man, and shut the fuck up about it.

But here you were, midnight, staring at the chat that had started it all.

'yo, u up?'

You rolled your eyes, going back to your scrolling.

'I hate seenzoners.'

You liked his message.

'That's so much worse.'

'The fuck do u want?'

Nate Jacobs sent a voice message.

You could have just ignored it. You could just block him. You could just… stop. But the allure was far too much. The urge of finding out what he wanted was too strong.

"Guess where I am."

He could've just texted that. No need for a voice message, but he was Nate Jacobs.

"I don't know, the psych ward?"

"You wanna know? You'll have to drive and follow my instructions, though. You trust me enough for that?"

Ha. No fucking chance. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Oh, so you'll text me, but won't see me in person?"

His voice was oddly sultry, as if he'd either just woken up or hadn't slept for days. Most likely the second one.

"Bingo. Go to sleep, Jacobs."

And then he sent you a picture of him from the bleachers of your school's football stadium - how the fuck did he get in?

"C'mon, don't you want to see what our school looks like at night?"

Uh, yes. But with him? No.

"It's 12:05, ASSHOLE. No fucking way."

"This is the scene where you cave and meet me and we have a cute little nighttime school montage where we sit and talk about life."

You listened to that message a good four times before you stopped laughing.

"This is the scene where I block you."

"I will come over if you don't come to the school. Uh, y'know, if you want your parents to think you're fooling around with the QB."

"I will literally shoot you if you come within fifty feet of my house."

"Come. I'll make it worth your while."

Was it possible to hear smirks?

"I'm not coming, Nate."

No way he was actually at the high school. It was probably an insanely good edit.

"You will be."

The FUCK was that supposed to mean? Not like he could force you to show up.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure. Fifty bucks says you show up to the high school tonight."

"Not blowing fifty bucks on anything, even if I do win."

"What's it going to take for you to come? Look, I-I know it's been weird, and I might've scared you, but that's… that wasn't my intention, I swear."

Yeah, his intention was just to show you what his blood looked like. You liked his message once more, rolling your eyes.

"Dude, seriously, I swear, I'm not like, a serial killer or anything. You can bring pepper spray, a taser, whatever, if it makes you feel better. I'm just- okay, fuck, you're right. Dumb idea, trying to convince you like this."

Wait, okay, good. That was good. He was getting the message.

Another voice message.

"I forgot who I was talking to. You leave me no choice."

"What?" No.

And then, you received a video. He was teetering off the edge of the top-most row of bleachers. With a gun at his head.

"Come on, Y/N, this is getting really sad, that the only way I can grab your attention is by almost killing myself."

"I don't care. Do whatever. Not falling for it this time."

═════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"FUCK!", you yelled, as you found yourself running frantically through the school football field for the second time in two weeks.

You'd actually kept your word for a while, pushing out every Nate-related thought for a good night's sleep - you didn't fall for it.

Until McKay called and informed you that Nate wasn't picking up his phone - and that his last message was something along the lines of : 'Call Y/N if you don't hear from me in the next couple of minutes'.

He was deranged. Playing Russian Roulette with his own life was absolutely deranged.

"You actually showed."

GOOD, he was still alive, meaning you could kill him.

You didn't speak. That would simply complicate things, because then you'd have to look at him.

"Plus, you didn't flinch when you saw me. Think that's a win for me in the trust department."

You stood there, glaring at him as he jumped down from the bleachers, even doing that dangerously, as if he was a cat with nine lives, or he was playing a video game and would just respawn.

"You know, you could say something."

He wasn't getting impatient, though, like his tone was trying to portray. No, he was getting more amused. He liked this. He liked the fact that he got you to come to a basically abandoned-for-the-holidays-high school at midnight. He reveled in it.

"Like hey, Nate, thanks for convincing me to actually live a little for a change instead of staying cooped up in my house.", he suggested.

You punched him.

Yeah. You kept running across that field till you were close enough and you punched him right then and there.

You full-on punched him, shoved him back, slapped him, clawed at him. "Stop FUCKING doing this to me! STOP! You can't FUCKING do this to me!", you screamed, hitting him repeatedly on his chest.

He took every beating, and the fact that it seemed he was trying not to laugh just egged you on even more to actually kill him, make his nose bleed, make his head fall clean off his egotistical body.

Eventually, though, it seemed even Nate Jacobs had his limit. He grappled against your hands as he held them between both your chests, clenching his jaw. He wouldn't risk saying anything, seeing as your eyes were already burning with tears.

"You…", you cried out as he shifted his grip on your hands to only one hand, wrapping the other around you. "…Can't keep…"

"Shh, shh, I know.", he muttered as he rested his chin on your head. "Shh, I had to."

"No, you didn't."

He kissed your head, then your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and stopped for a moment, hovering over your lips but not touching them, as though he was more scared than you were. "You know I did."

You wondered if he could taste the tears, whether he relished it. Knowing what little you did of him, he might have.

"I would've come."

"No, you wouldn't have. Shh." He was right, but there had to be some other way.

"You know what, sweetheart?"

It was sickening how he could do this to you and then use words of endearment against you.

"You should actually be grateful."

And that's when you noticed that he was actually gripping onto your hair, tightening it when your face didn't show any contortion due to pain (only contortion due to unbridled rage and the urge to stab him with your car keys).

"I usually hurt people to get what I want. With you, I'm hurting myself."

You fought the urge to say 'so fucking what?'

"You're not bleeding, baby, that's what you don't get. You're untouched, and safe, and not bleeding. Me, however?"

What was his point? That he was being a gentleman by scaring you half to death instead of having a normal adult conversation?

"I'm bleeding. I'm hurt. I'm in pain. But I'm still holding you."

He said it with exaggerated magnanimity, like he was doing you a favour, or something, like all your problems, trauma, worries, stress, had just disappeared because he was holding you in his 'big strong arms'.

"Then stop!"

"Neither of us wants me to stop holding you."

"I do."

He grinned, knowingly, with a subtle shake of his head. "No, you don't."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go, Nate."

"Fine. Because you called me Nate and not Jacobs.", he nodded, letting go of you and throwing up his arms. "Don't hit me again."

"Was McKay in on this?"

He frowned momentarily, before realization swept over his face. "Shit. Yeah, no, he wasn't. I should text him, huh?"

Oh, now he was asking if he should be a courteous human being?

You watched him loathingly, as he typed out what you guessed was a half-assed apology.

'Sorry, McKay, I'm good, man. Chicks, y'know?' or some absolutely fucked up shit like that, to be sure.

"Done. Now, will you stop being so square and enjoy the fact that you're here at school at midnight?"

"What?" Enjoy?

"I'll bet this is your first time out at midnight period, let alone your first time out at midnight somewhere you're not legally supposed to be."

"Why am I here?"

The condescending look he gave you set your teeth on edge. 'Oh, poor, naive girl. Of course she doesn't even know why she's here. This is why I told her to stay in my grasp. She never listens.'

FUCKING ASSHOLE.

"You're my good luck charm. My good luck charm, but I heard you're fucking Shane. You can't be doing that."

The softness in his movements, the gentleness, it had either completely stopped, or entirely overshadowed the fact that he had put you through yet another nerve-wracking event that would raise your blood pressure.

Shane who, Shane who, Shane- oh. Shane.

Not so much fucking as went on one date with, but it was better for everyone if Nate thought you had already gone that far.

"Why not?"

"He's a punk."

"You're one to talk."

"Look, he plays defense. What if you're just, like, intensely fortunate? Can't have him sneak in a quickie before the game and then he's lucky."

It's like he wanted you to punch him again.

"He's on your team. You'll win anyway."

He shrugged, as though he could see where you were coming from, but was about to respectfully absolutely ruin your argument.

"I like to win."

"Not a team player, are you?"

"Never claimed to be."

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

He was so clearly getting frustrated with your lack of response - the initial dopamine and thrill of being a disgusting element of surprise by shooting/not-shooting himself in the head gone.

But what could you say?

You'd already ghosted Shane after the date had tanked, so technically there was no reason for you to still be here. The chances of a 'lucky quickie' were virtually zero.

And so, you just stood there, the two of you, with inexplicable rage pooling within.

Your senses were heightened, your emotions wilder than the crazed look in your eyes as he stood there, looking down at you like an adult looking down at their childhood toy. As if you were the naivest, most precious, pathetically adorable thing he owned, reminding him of a simpler time.

At this point, even a rabbit's foot had been treated with more respect than you.

And you hated every moment of it because it was thrusted upon you, just like the silence of the eerie, void-like field you two were in.

"Why are you like this, Y/N?", he groaned, with the nerve to sound tired.

You? Why were you like this? What about him?

"You're… so cold." His hands flexed as if they were about to move from your hair to your throat. "Just… let loose, please. You're the reason I'm winning, I'd at least like to get to know you!"

"Oh, so this is like, an interview? Is she good enough to be associated with me? You think you're hot shit? Dude, I- you gotta realize how fucked up all of this is."

You were practically pleading. Acknowledge your absurdity, Nate Jacobs, please.

"Hey, whoa, look, you chose to associate yourself with me. Not my problem, ok?", he spat back, clearly happy with the return of banter.

"I didn't choose any of this!"

"You requested to follow me after I followed you. You chose not to block me after I followed you."

"You're putting this all on me?"

That's what normal people do ; they follow people back! He was grasping at straws, but it still seemed as though he had an iron grip on them.

"There wouldn't have been a first time if you didn't care so goddamn much." Like he was mocking you. You almost screamed. You almost hit him. He was so nonchalant.

But that… rang true. However, the humanitarian in you was adamant that there was absolutely no one cold enough to shrug off a video of someone slicing so effortlessly into their palm and exposing their blood so unabashedly.

Well, except Nate Jacobs himself.

"But, y'know what, Y/N?", he said, clearing his throat, matter-of-factly. "That's all in the past. Because now, now, we're going to sort out this arrangement between us and everything will go back to normal."

Normal? Normal as in, both of you go back to being strangers? Unlikely.

"Arrangement?"

"How this thing is going to go. Before every game, you fist-bump me. You don't touch any other players whatsoever, Blackhawk or otherwise."

Great, he was policing who you could fist-bump now.

"I- you brought me here at midnight for this?"

"Uh, no, I brought you here at midnight for fun.", he replied, scoffing. "But since you wanted to be all violent and physical, I thought we should stick to business."

Did he mean to be this insufferable? Was it a bit? There was no way an actual human being could act like this, yes? There was no way anyone could think that this was a justifiable response to a genuine question. Right?

At this point, you didn't know anymore.

Nate Jacobs had officially stumped you.

"If I say okay, can I leave?"

"No, you cannot leave, but you definitely can go sit over there and think about your little attitude before I bring out the tequila."

He burst out laughing at your annoyed face, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulder in an oddly possessive display of 'familiarity'.

"Relax. Loosen up, like I said, and you'll be fine.", he snorted, and that was your only indication that he did not, in fact, actually wish to put you into time-out.

The insane man with a gun had a sense of humour, apparently.

"You brought tequila?"

"I told you, the whole point of tonight was fun and getting to know the reason I'm winning better. So, sit."

You sat, still glaring up at him. You must have looked absolutely fucking cute or something, because he pouted at you before reaching into a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before and whipping out two bottles of straight tequila.

"Body shots?"

"Jacobs…"

"I'm joking, I'm joking. You'll come around soon, though. They all do."

Great. That's brilliant. You'd been reduced from a stranger, to a bitch, to a joke, to now a stereotype. This was just spectacular.

"Why me?"

That question seemed to genuinely catch him off-guard.

Good. Now he knows what this past week with him has been like.

"Hm?'

"Why me? Why am I the good luck charm?"

"I don't know."

"You could just be a really good player. You don't know, you haven't gone a single game without it, so you assume you're winning because of it."

"The third game was the one you weren't there for. You must remember hearing about it, though? Most embarrassing game for East Highland, I swear. 34-nil? That was shameful. That's why I decided, fourth game onwards, I wouldn't have to risk it because I got you."

Shit. That actually made sense.

"Okay, now you tell me.", he began, slightly turning the bottle in his hand around and examining the contents, curiously. "Shane Crestin? Seriously?"

"What?"

He scoff-snickered, taking an impressively large gulp before answering. "Y/N, the guy's a tool."

Look who's talking.

"He asked me out after the game."

"So, he knows you're my good luck charm.", he said, quietly, like a king trying to figure out where his men's loyalties lay.

Did Julius Caesar have a girl who he gaslit in order to get her to watch him in battle because of superstition? If so, she'd have been the first to stab him.

"Of course he knows, you made a huge spectacle of it that first time."

"Oh, yeah. But still, what a bastard. Trying to steal my lucky girl and her luck like that."

You needed to do a lobotomy on this man, seriously.

It wasn't even like you could ask him what the hell that meant because that would just bring him immense amounts of joy.

"You're not drinking. Why?", he inquired, opening the second bottle and forcing it to your lips.

You frowned as you held onto it. "I don't drink."

"Oh, bullshit. Come on, drink, don't be a nerd."

"I said no, okay?"

"Wait, do you not want to drink around me?"

He was really going above and beyond to break the 'dumb jock' stereotype, wasn't he?

"I can't believe it.", he continued, leaning back on the bleachers as he watched your face. "After all this, you don't trust me."

After all this, he said, as if he had spent his entire life working solely for your benefit. Like a tired mentor.

"I mean, dude, this is like… such a bitch move, you know that? I'm just trying to be nice."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Nate."

"Uh, trust me? Thought we were cool now, Y/N. You think I'm going to get you blackout drunk then have my way with you? Rape you? Are you scared to be around me? At midnight? In a quiet, empty football stadium where no one would think to look for you?", he questioned, still holding your gaze as he lifted his bottle to his mouth.

The elaboration of that statement unnerved you.

"I don't think you're going to rape me, I'm just-"

"Just scared of the possibility?"

"Don't take it personal, but-"

"There's no other way to take it. You're all but accusing me of assault. I thought you were different."

Was that meant to make you melt? 'Oh, no, I'm just like everyone else in that I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, the horror!'

"Maybe I'm not.", you shrugged.

"But you came. Tonight. No one else would have. So maybe you're a judgmental bitch like everyone else, but you've at least got your stupidly huge heart going for you."

If you strained your ears, that almost sounded like a compliment.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Drink, Y/N. Please."

Oh, fuck it. You needed that goddamn tequila to shoot through you with a vengeance.

"There we go.", he mumbled, watching you. "Dude, look at you."

"Hm?"

"You're finally badass."

His eyes lit up as he saw your finger enter the scene. He chuckled for a moment. "I'm being serious. I mean, you've beaten me up, what, three times so far - once in front of the entire school - and now you're doing underage shots with me at night at school, which is like, two illegal things at the same time."

See, that's where the difference between the two of you lay.

He thought that was being a badass.

You thought that was being a dumbass.

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"…So yeah. That's why I joined football, basically. Made me feel, like, stronger and more in control, I guess."

This asshole had just told the most human story, and now you had to see him as a person. The cunt.

You watched as he stood in the middle of the field, aiming and shooting at the banners that were strewn up all around the field.

God, he was so fucking terrifying.

How does he play Russian Roulette to bait you into coming one minute and then reload and shoot at banners like a child with his first Nerf the next?

"Control. Yeah, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You want everything to go your way. You get pissed when other people do things of their own will."

"Can't argue with that.", he shrugged, as he turned his back to you and shot another banner, impressively shooting right in the centre of the 'O' in a 'GO BLACKHAWKS!' sign. "You know how to shoot?"

"No."

"You should learn."

"I'll get right on that.", you scoffed, as you observed your tequila bottle intensely, ignoring him coming back to rest his feet on the bleachers from your peripheral vision.

"Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Humour me."

"I've humoured you enough tonight."

"Please? Pretty please?"

You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth. You had no idea what you expected, but it sure as hell was not him stuffing the barrel of his gun in there. You suddenly felt the tequila evaporating from your bloodstream as he slapped your hands away after you tried taking it out, like anyone would. Shit, it hurt. FUCK.

"Just relax.", he whispered, so soothingly that he might as well have been talking you through a panic attack. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Besides the hot gun you've got basically lodged up my throat.

Suddenly, the amount of danger you really were in began to materialize in your head. He was right. It was midnight. It was spring break. It was at high school. No one would think to look for you there.

"Are you scared?"

Oh, God. He was one of those freaks who got off on these things.

You nodded, not really knowing what else to do.

"You think I'll shoot you?"

You shook your head.

"Kill you?"

You shook your head.

"Then why are you scared?"

Honestly, it was the fact that he wasn't going to do either of those things, and decided to shove a gun down your throat simply for shits and giggles.

"You need more tequila."

WHAT?

You frowned, but nodded. Anything to get the gun out of your mouth.

He poured it straight from the bottle into your mouth, watching with sick satisfaction as you swallowed, and you realized that he was psychotically drunk.

"How's that? I do it all the time, y'know? Hot metal plus cold tequila equals the best fucking night ever."

Um, ew. No. But that would be super unwise to say.

"You shove a gun down your throat then take a shot?"

"One of my more dangerous drinking games, yes. God, dude, look at you. Like, you're so fucking uptight, loosen THE FUCK up!"

You were unsure how much 'looser' you could get - you were already going along with his 'dangerous drinking game'.

"I am!"

"Not enough. Not even close. You need more."

"We're all out.", you said, (thankfully) pointing at the empty duffle bag next to him.

"Oh.", he sighed, slumping down next to you and using the duffle bag as a pillow. "Just- I don't get it. What is it about you?"

"That makes you get suicidal?"

He snorted, softly. "That makes me so mad?"

"You're mad?"

"Not like angry-mad. I mean like… crazy-mad. Like I go mad around you."

Five-year-olds could explain things better than him, but, to his credit, he was shitfaced.

"Really? Thought you were born that way."

"I mean, last week? When I kissed you? I don't do that shit. But it was the only way to shut you up. I-ugh. It's you, Y/N. Just fucking up my brain, one game at a time."

"Oh, oh, so you being a psychopath is because I didn't show up to one game?"

"When you're constantly worried about someone needing to be there, you do crazy things. Like cut yourself. I would have done it, too, seriously."

"I know. That's why I came."

"So, we weren't entirely strangers, huh? You knew me a little, at least?"

"Uh, no, we were definitely strangers."

"Now? What are we now?"

"Uh… friends?" You didn't mean that. You wouldn't be his friend if it killed you.

"No, I think I'd know it if we were friends." Phew.

"So, you tell me."

"What? No, you've been in charge this whole time, you tell me."

He just said you'd been in charge.

One offhanded, sweeping statement, and he'd shifted all the blame on you as easy as pie.

How did he do that?

It was obvious what he was referring to: the fact that none of these interactions would have happened if you just hadn't given a shit in the first place.

The fact that every single move of his had been linked to you, in whatever this weird everybody (except you) ante, sketchy poker game he was playing was supposed to be.

And it unnerved you.

Because in some twisted way, it was true.

"Acquaintances."

"But we've kissed.", he reminded, diligently and unwantedly. "Acquaintances - and classmates, before you suggest that - don't just kiss."

"Dude, then what do you want to be?"

Shit. That was what he'd wanted all along. For you to ask in exasperation, to give you his interpretation.

"You know, just… an average relationship between a man and his good luck charm." He inched closer, his hand loosening its grip on the railing as if it was going to do something, but there was no more tequila to reach out for.

There was only you.

And reach, he did.

First, his hands were on your cheek, like they had been a half hour ago. Then, suddenly, they were in your hair, and his tongue was trying to coax your words out of you directly from the source.

And you just let it happen.

If anyone knew why you let it happen, you'd have loved to start a suggestion box.

But you had a funny feeling that the only person who knew why was Nate Jacobs himself.

Fat chance he'd tell you.

#nate euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs fic #nate jacobs fanfic #euphoria fic #euphoria imagine #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x you #nate jacobs fluff #euphoria fluff #euphoria dialogue #nate jacobs blurb #nate jacobs imagines #nate jacobs oneshot #nate jacobs hc #nate jacobs drabble #nate jacobs fanfiction #euphoria smut #nate jacobs smut

[surr3al1sm]

My take (or well ig dispute) on the Traveler is Jack's dad theory

Honestly, I've been having these thoughts on this theory ever since I saw the post, but now seems as good a time as ever to actually talk about it. *Slowly looks behind me while the Night Swan event is looming behind my back* Disclaimer: for this post I am completely putting aside my theories on who Jack's dad could be, and the fact I am a WanderRose shipper. These factors so not exist to me right now.

This has become an essay so I'm going to create a little cut off to save your feed lol. Please do read it though if you have the time.

The clones/reflections Starting out I would like to talk about the clones that appear in Treasure and Rock Your Body that seemed to be the root of this theory. They also mentioned Locked out of Heaven, but those are reflections in a mirror and not clones.

I don't think Jack has the ability to create clones. Period, done that's it. I know that in Treasure we see clones of Night Jack dance alongside him, but I don't think these come from Jack's magic (or lack thereof) at all. As Treasure is a map where Night Swan shows Jack what he could have been, what he could be if he just joins her side again. So I think that just like everything else in Treasure, the clones were created with Night Swans magic and have nothing to do with Jack's abilities. I think Night Swan can create clones of herself if she wanted to, but she doesn't because she has her minions to do the dirty work, so she utalizes this ability to give Jack an idea that if he joins her side that he too can shape people's mind in a way where they'll think just like him as if they were clones of him. Which would be another case of Night Swan thinking Jack wants something while he really doesn't.

Overall I do not think it would make sense for Jack to be able to create clones, since it would do absolutely nothing for the story. Plus if he does, why wouldn't they have used that by now? They could have utilized this in Majesty or something to show that he can, since they didn't hesitate with the portal thing Night Swan had going on. On the other hand I feel it would make more sense for Night Swan to be able to create clones as that puts her magic level around the same leven the Traveler has. Which makes her an even better antagonist in my opinion. Also they could actually do back story stuff with that but I'll get into that later.

The blatand cheating or at least very suspicious implications?? This one is just ovbious to me, like it doesn't matter if he was with Night Swan first or with Si'ha first in this case. Wanderlust and Jack are very much around the same age i think, presonally I believe Jack to be younger but that doesn't really matter right now. Either way, this means that the Traveler would have been with a woman, had a child and then up and left her to have a child with another. That's AITA redit story typa shit that I don't think Just Dance is going to pull. Let alone when those two women are the Queen and probably one of the most powerful sorceresses in the entire danceverses.

But let's disect it for a moment anyways. Option 1: Wanderlust's older, Jack's younger right. This would mean that the 2020 story line happened as we know it right now. The Traveler searched across all of the danceverses for Si'ha Nova and eventually he found her. They fell inlove, they got married, they had Wanderlust. The most popular love story of the danceverses. And then the Traveler gets up like what a few months, a year, into his happy family and cheats on Si'ha Nova with Night Swan (who might not be evil by now, but still). Now you can argue that they got divorced and shit but that's highly unlikely in my opinion. Since a big part of the Traveler and Si'ha's characters is their love story. Plus even then there would have to have been some emotional cheating because you don't just fall in love with someone enough to have a child with them that fast. Yes, you could argue that Jack was a child created out of wedlock but that's really reaching at that point isn't it. Option 2: Jack's older, Wanderlust's younger. This just means we can throw the entire backstory of the Traveler and Si'ha Nova out of the window. Why would you get with someone while actively searching for the so called love of your life? It just doesn't make sense to me. And you can't even argue that it wouldn't have happened because there is no way that Jack is that much older than Wanderlust.

Overall I think that the implicastions this brings is too much for Just Dance. I know that there's songs about being cheated on in the game, but why would they build up such a love story just to throw it out of the window?

Jack's design This one is 100% from my side, but as someone who lives for character design I'm going to be real. If the Traveler was Jack's father we would have seen that in little hints in his design, even if Night Swan wanted to surpress that as much as possible for some reason. Ubisoft is one of the big game design companies and would know to incorperate at the very least a small little detail hinting towards it. Something like a little bit of blue or a triangle or something you know. Plus this is something I'll always point out but: it would make even less sense for him to have bright red hair. I know that genetics probably work wildy different in the danceverses than here, but come on. I highly doubt that a character who's parents both have dark hair would have bright red hair without any good reason for it. You want your characters to at least resemble their parents. Why would they do that with Wanderlust and not with Jack? That doesn't make any sense.

Afterthought Honestly, if they do end up adding it. It just feels like a weird afterthought they put in for people to stop shipping WanderRose. It's the only ship they seem to have beef with and I feel like they would be adding it just so they have a good reason to have beef with the ship. It genuinely doesn't feel like they properly planned for it or anything. Honestly, if you're going to be that petty about a ship you should really reflect as a company lol.

What could they do instead? I do have an idea for that, because there was a lot of Night Swan and the Traveler teasing going on in the y2k season, and while I think one of the maps we're getting will be Sweet Dream there's still a second map. If they want to get into the backstory between Night Swan and the Traveler, I think that it would be really cool if they like studied flow under the same master or something and that's where a rivalry started. They could still do something with the two, but it wouldn't have to feel lazy and rushed just because they don't want a ship. But that's just my thoughts on that matter.

In conclusion The Traveler...

And being honest? I don't think we're going to find out who Jack's father is. I think we might just be getting two solo maps of Night Swan. Or maybe even Sweet Dreams and Lose Yourself, proving that that's preETDV Jack.

But those are just theories, a game Just Dance theory. If you have anything you'd like to say or if you wanna duke it out with me about this. Feel free to. I like hearing other peoples opinions on things like this.

Okay really if you have made it this far. Thank you?? How did you get through all that bullshit jezus- I truly didn't intend for this post to become a sort of essay, but it appears it has. I hope everyhting made sense since I tend to explain shit in weird ways.

Anyways have this meme because I'm like super relevant and a totally normal person.

#I should start making essay youtube videos istg LOL #This theory has us all stressing lol #jack rose jd #jack rose #jack rose just dance #jd the traveler #the traveler #night swan jd #night swan just dance #just dance #just dance fandom #just dance 2024 #just dance coach #jd #just dance theory

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 21: Lingerie

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,750

Warnings: Afab!reader, lingerie (male wearing), rimming & anal fingering, oral sex (all male receiving), prostate massage/milking, I don't believe I used any gendered language in this one but if something slipped my radar I apologize

A/N: I know I said I was going to wait until these were all done to start posting them but as I was looking at my progress on the prompt list I decided to just say fuck it, we ball. These probably aren't going to come quite back to back (heh) but there shouldn't be too big a gap between them either. Basically your take away here should be to never trust anything I say lol

⭐

The taverns of Mondstadt are a great place to hide in plain sight as long as you’re a regular. New faces stand out even in a crowd but an old familiar face can easily be overlooked if you play your cards right. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t talk to any other patrons beyond what was strictly necessary. Mind your business. It’s quite easy, really. Anyone can do it, even the Captain of the Cavalry who’s charming smiles and dashing good looks far precede his reputation amongst the knights. 

Kaeya, for his part, is exceptionally talented when it comes to such games and that makes the sleight of hand all the easier to pull off. He knows how to keep his cards close to his chest while at the same time showing any curious onlookers exactly what they wanted to see. What they expected. It was a matter of simple misdirection when you got right down to it, but a soundly effective one. He wasn’t one to disappoint a captivated audience if he could help it, after all. 

You understood this to be one of many on the gradually growing list of things you liked about him, and it was at least partially what made playing with him so damn fun. Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t get enough of this titillating subterfuge. 

“Looks like I win again.”

Consideringly, you glance over the cards he’s set down on the table in a near perfect, fanning arch. It did certainly appear to be a winning play for him which meant another loss for you to tally up on your side. That was fine though. You weren’t exactly betting all your chips on the opening act when you still had the real show to look forward to later. This was just something to kill the time. The true fun would start afterwards and you were sure to come out on top, victorious as well as properly satiated in the end. That, at least, was a certainty rather than a gamble. 

“So it seems,” You agree, giving him a quick smile. “You’re having awfully good luck tonight, Captain. You wouldn’t happen to be breaking any rules to stack the odds in your favor, would you?” 

He laughs like it’s an absurd suggestion. Like he wasn’t known for doing just that with enough regularity to become a noticeable trend to anyone who knew him beyond a surface level acquaintance. The average citizen wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. Even the knights working directly under him in the Favonious Cavalry would only suspect it but they’d never know for sure and they probably didn’t grasp the full scope of it either. Kaeya was good at playing the role of a harmless philanderer, yes, but unfortunately for him so were you. 

As one of the sole members of the specialized intelligence scouts that reported directly to Captain Eula, you were just as adept at reading people and taking on various roles as he was. In many ways you were a glorified spy, often going undercover to infiltrate enemy lines — usually that of treasure hoarders and their ranks. The only real difference between you and him was that covert sting operations were actually in your job description. Kaeya couldn’t say the same, yet that didn’t stop him from taking on many of the same kinds of tasks you would have been assigned. He could have easily given you a real run for your money if he’d wanted to. 

You felt relatively certain that, sooner or later, he would have been recruited into the Reconnaissance Company just the same as you if only that unfortunate situation with his adoptive brother hadn’t happened. With a captain's seat empty and needing to be filled, the answer had been an obvious one. 

But fate, as they say, weaves itself into the most curious of patterns. It wasn’t really your place to speculate any further than that, though it is hard not to let your mind wander sometimes when there were so many ‘what if’s and ‘could have been’s floating around him.  

Thinking the two of you would have made quite the team in another lifetime, you lean forward to brace your elbows on the table. Deliberately casual and unassuming. That was the name of the game while the rest of the tavern went about its business, blissfully unaware and none the wiser to the subtle foreplay being exchanged right in plain sight for anyone to see if they’d just stop long enough to actually look. 

Some would have called this risky but you thought it really quite tantalizing for a first course appetizer. 

Kaeya does the same, mirroring the motion, except he reaches out to curl his fingers around the humble pile of mora sitting in the center to claim it for himself. As he pulls it over to his side, his open shirt shifts with the movement. You just catch a glimpse of rich red lace when it barely peeks out from behind crisp white cotton and your pulse starts to speed up. It was bold even for him but the heightened chance of discovery only further feeds into your own excitement for what was to come. What it suggested.

“I don’t need to stoop so low as to intentionally rig the game, my friend.” He tells you quietly under all the wordless din of drinking and merrymaking. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so fine tuned to the presence sitting across from you that you may as well have been the only two in the room at that moment. “I’m just lucky enough to be enjoying a nice winning streak this evening, that’s all. To be honest I’m a little hurt you’d lobby such a baseless accusation against me. You know what they say about sore losers …” 

“I’m sure you’ll get over it. What’s a little friendly banter between colleagues after all, right?” He chuckles at that, and your smile quickly turns into a grin. “I’ll admit, your ability to turn things around is quite remarkable though. Wasn’t it just last week when you suffered a resounding defeat at my hands playing Eilfern? Now here you are winning at Whist as if you’ve never lost a game in your life and you don’t still owe me from last time.” 

The way Kaeya looks at you over the table speaks volumes, but no one on the outside looking in could ever guess at the effect it was having on you by the way he casually shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look like someone with any real investment in the conversation, neither the game nor this ongoing exchange with you. It all appears very lackadaisical and unimportant to him but you weren’t fooled. You knew better than that. 

“Oh, you’ll get what you won from me last time. No question about that. Don’t tell me you’re in such dire need that you’re getting desperate for it after only a few days?” 

If you were the type, you would’ve been blushing straight up to your ears. “Need I remind you, Captain, that I wouldn’t be amicable to playing these card games with you if I didn’t expect my winnings in a timely fashion.” 

“So you are chomping at the bit.” The sound of his laughter is like the soft caress of silk on your skin as he leans forward as if to share a confidential word with you. Either a secret or something important that isn’t meant for any of the other patrons to overhear, but all it does is provide you with another brief glimpse of the lingerie hidden away behind his clothes when his shirt pulls open a bit more at the subtle stretch. 

It’s entirely calculated from the motion itself to the way his clothes are too tight in some places and concealingly loose in others. The fur embellishment on his capelet and the long hair that slips forward over his opposite shoulder thoroughly saw to it that no one else besides you would be able to get a good look at the delicate lace pulled taut over his chest. The people sitting nearest to your little corner table might have been able to make out a curious shock of red on the Captain’s otherwise cool toned attire but they’d never be able to tell for sure what it was. Only you were privileged with the knowledge and you subconsciously lick your lips at the tawdry show he was putting on. 

This was something of a routine between the two of you at this point. A tradition of sorts. It was impossible to say when it had actually started or where it had escalated to this level of intimate favors exchanged under the guise of gambling wagers but you were immensely glad for it. You won at Eilfern the last time you’d met up and you’d told him you wanted to see him in lingerie. Before that he’d gotten to finger you for what felt like hours, until the sheets were totally soaked underneath you and you’d begged for it; babbling unendingly until he finally fucked you proper and much to your sobbing relief. 

Since it looked like he’d won this round, you wondered what he would choose to do to you when next you got together for your little game nights. The thought alone is enough to almost make you squirm in your seat. 

“As always you are much too full of yourself, Captain Kaeya. A single night of wins goes straight to your head and further inflates that already oversized ego of yours.” 

“Really now, you wound me.” He doesn’t look at all hurt or even very put out as he pulls himself up and leans back into his chair again. Like a perfectly placed prop, his open shirt slides into place to leave only the usual keyhole showing off the coppery brown skin across his pectorals. Not so much as a hint of red in sight anymore. “It was not my intention to leave you wanting and waiting. I’ll pay up, just as we agreed. We can’t have it being said that I don’t keep up my end of a bargain, can we?” 

You pin him with a pointed, deliberate look. “I would certainly think you’d care about your reputation enough to do that much.” 

Inclining his chin in agreement, Kaeya makes a sweeping gesture toward the back of the tavern. “Then by all means, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet to continue this conversation.” 

Suppressing the urge to smile, you move to stand and he follows suit. The way Kaeya unfolds himself from his chair is something noteworthy, all long legs and perfect stately posture. Some men of his height manage to look gangly or uncoordinated but he is decidedly neither of those. It’s like even at rest he’s so thoroughly perfected the performance that it imbues everything he does right down to the most benign. 

You can’t help but wonder how you must look standing together as he comes around the table to flank you. He’s left the pile of mora behind, more than enough to cover the tab and a generous tip on top of that. The owner and sole bartender of the establishment is likely the only person who has any real notion of something going on between the two of you but his silence on the matter was effectively guaranteed. To everyone else it likely just looked like a friendly, casual meeting between two knights. That wasn’t so strange, especially not for someone like Kaeya who enjoyed so much popularity amongst the citizenry. He was on good terms with just about everyone. 

You, on the other hand, were much more of an unknown to the general populace. It came with the job description. But no one even gives you a second glance now as you make your way towards the back of the establishment where the secondary exit was located in a cramped little alcove. At a glance it would look like you were leaving to go somewhere else and the curiosity of any nosy eavesdroppers would’ve already been safely satisfied by the exchange at the table. Kaeya wouldn’t have suggested taking leave if he’d even so much as suspected someone was paying more attention to the two of you than simple passing interest, and you were likewise certain that it was safe to make your move for much the same reason. 

The rear exit you make your way towards is located directly next to the rickety, well used staircase that leads up to the second floor where the rooms for rent were housed. It was both to give traveling merchants and passing tourists an easy way out so they didn’t have to go all the way to the front, and to ensure an easy traffic flow. You’re pleased to find the coast completely clear despite the late hour, and you take a sharp turn to climb the stairs with Kaeya right on your heels. The weight of his presence just behind you is as comforting as it is full of the velveteen promise of what was yet to come. On one hand you knew you could trust him at your back in the platonic colleague sense. But on the other, much more pressing hand, you also knew you could trust him to give you a night to remember. He always did.

Unfortunately for him — or fortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it — you were much more interested in blowing his mind tonight. He’d left you feeling punchdrunk and floating in the ether last time and now it was your turn to get a little payback. 

You can hardly contain your excitement as you reach the landing and make your way down the row of doors until you reach the last room sequestered in the far corner. Arrangements had been made earlier in the evening when you’d first arrived, when it was still slow and not likely to raise any eyebrows; and the heavy wooden door swings open with a quick turn of the key given to you by the owner. Kaeya lets you enter first then steps in behind you, pulling it shut and locking it again in quick succession. No one would be interrupting you any time soon, barring any unexpected emergencies cropping up at the worst possible time. 

“So,” He says, unfalteringly casual about it as he leans back against the shut door. “Regarding the prize I owe you. I can take a guess, I’m sure, but what exactly did you have in mind with this?” 

Quickly spinning around, you step into him and close the distance, your body pressing flush to his in one smooth motion. You, impatient? Never. “You’ve already kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think Captain? Let me see you first and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do with you.” 

Bringing your hand up, you reach for one side of his shirt and he tips his chin down, attentively watching as you peel it away. You’re afforded a much better look at the brassiere now, the thin lace of the cup stretched over his broad chest in a way that was not dissimilar to that of your own, although it lacked much of the same weight and fullness. His figure was far from feminine but that didn’t make it look any less appealing in your eyes. The color is especially striking against his rich skin tone which surprises you slightly when you were so used to seeing him in his signature blue. Who would’ve guessed.

You pull your attention back up to his face again, brow quirked in question. “What made you go with red?”

The smirk that tugs at his mouth tells you exactly why. “I’m afraid you never specified a color. I just assumed it was up for me to decide and you didn’t particularly care either way.” He puts his head to the side, looking oh so very smug and pleased with himself. “Why, don’t you like it? And I spent so much time picking this out too.” 

Trying and failing to conceal your smile, you lower your gaze back to his chest. You can even see the darker bud of his nipple showing through the delicate lacework and it looks undeniably inviting like this, trapped behind a thin layer of fabric yet still in plain sight. Idly, you reach up to tease it with a featherlight brush of your fingertips. Was this just a small taste of what men felt when they were graced with seeing a woman in alluring lingerie? If so then you were certainly starting to understand the fascination. 

“Rather than if I like it or not, I think the better question is how did you feel wearing this under your clothes out there? Did it excite you, Kaeya?” 

He subtly shifts against you, reaching for your other hand. You let him take it without a fuss and he rather pointedly directs it to the front of his pants. He makes you cup him, curling your fingers around the bulge there, and your next breath comes in a quick little gasp. It was far from completely filled out but he was getting there fast. 

“Is this answer enough for you?” 

“Oh my,” You relent, sighing softly when he twitches and grows against your fingers. His pants were already so tight you didn’t think his placket would be able to restrain a full erection if you didn’t get them off him soon, and time was clearly ticking. You’d have to move this along but it’s impossible to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit for his eagerness. “You’re always so cool and composed, Captain. I had no idea you were this bothered. I’d have never guessed you were hiding away such an excitable prick in your trousers. How do you manage to make it look so easy?” 

“Plenty of practice.” 

It’s his turn to step into you now. He casually walks you back, using his greater size and weight to guide you until you’re distantly aware of the waiting bed sitting stationary just behind you. The room is not a very large one but it serves its purpose perfectly well. 

Eager to see the rest of him, you bring your hands together to fumble with his belts and then the fastens on the waist cinching band around his middle. Kaeya shrugs out of his capelet with a quick flick of his hand while you work on buckles and latches, the distant rustle of it hitting the floor sending a quick shiver up your spine. Then his fingers come up to touch the underside of your chin and tip your face towards him. You gladly rock forward, going on your toes to accommodate the height difference and accept the kiss he bends to place on your mouth. 

Working together, you get him undressed one layer at a time. His corset is quickly discarded, the flouncy white shirt soon joining it followed by the tighter, clinging black top underneath. He looks so good standing there naked from the waist up, in nothing but a bra that had quite clearly been tailored to fit the broad expanse of his chest's width and the fingerless gloves he chooses to leave on for the time being. So good in fact that you almost allow yourself to get distracted. Side tracked with questions and exploratory hands, eager to map out this new take on familiar territory through your sense of touch. But then he moves to kick off his boots, hands already at the waistband of his slacks to make your own excitement ratchet up another notch, and you promptly forget what you’d wanted to do. 

Watching him take his pants off is always entertaining in its own right, because his legs are so long and the material so form fitted it takes a bit of shimmying on his part to get them pulled down. This time is even better than usual though, because more and more of the bottom half to the lingerie is revealed the more he peels them away. You're a little surprised when you first glimpse the top of the garter belt, the same shade of red and just as finely made as the brassiere, but you don’t quite have the presence of mind to pretend to be scandalized by it. Not when it was easily one of the most mouth watering sights you’d ever seen. 

Kaeya’s waist was already small even without the corset there to keep it in check and the crimson band hugged around it just makes it look even more gracefully svelte. Decidedly grabbable. You couldn’t wait to do just that, your fingers practically itching for it while he steps out of his pants. 

The matching panties were, predictably, much too thin and flimsy to properly contain his cock but they do a valiant job trying. This is the only part of him that looks in any way out of place or disheveled so you had to give credit where it was due to whoever had done the tailoring. His balls were half spilling out of one side and his swelling length was tenting the front of the material enough to pull the whole garment askew. But his confidence remains unshaken and he merely reaches down to try and adjust himself without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it, although it does very little in the way of good. 

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step forward to touch him. Gently lay your hands along his narrow waist and give it a squeeze to bring his attention up. “Don’t worry about it. You look amazing.” 

“Please, I don’t look anywhere near as good as you would in this thing.” He laughs, low and sultry, the sound so edged with silken promise it makes your loins curl in anticipation. “I admit I didn’t really understand why you wanted me to dress up like this at first. That’s usually the sort of request a man makes in this kind of arrangement, no? But it’s actually not so bad, other than …” 

Rather pointedly, he tries to nudge his testes back into the underwear but of course it doesn’t work. You share another quiet laugh with him, giving Kaeya a wry grin to accompany the finger you suggestively slip into the waistband of his panties. 

“Now you know how we feel when you start making unreasonable demands of us. Unfortunately for you, this kind of underwear isn’t really meant to hold anything in.” You give the material a quick tug and let it go so that it lightly smacks back into his hip. “What you need is something with a little more coverage to really hold you in place, Kaeya. Maybe a waist high pair with mesh so you can still show off that pretty cock of yours.” 

“Oh,” He breathes out, evidently liking that idea. “I’ll remember to bring you along the next time I decide to go shopping for panties then.” 

You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face as you lean into him, dragging your hands up his sides to palm along his ribcage. His skin is so smooth and creamy, you could get lost in just touching him like this for hours on end if only time and duty would permit it. “Promise?” 

“Yes, you little pervert.” He murmurs, his tone growing hushed and thin. “I promise.” 

Bending at the waist, he kisses you again. Slow and steady even when your hunger clashes with his and doubles the weighty sexual tension in the room to leave both of you all but trembling with pent up need. You have all night though, and you don’t want to rush it. Especially not when he looked so damn good like this. Tall and lean, appropriately muscular in the places one would expect a knight in his prime to be, and yet delightfully petite in others. Kaeya was not an overly large man by any stretch of the imagination but his innate masculinity was undeniable. Even like this, even wearing the sort of lingerie meant to compliment a woman’s figure, to hug curves and emphasize certain assets, there was an air about him that was all man. 

Something as simple as lingerie couldn’t take that away from him and, although it perhaps wasn’t quite what the maker had intended, it was most definitely showing off his assets. 

Abruptly you realize he’s reaching for the front of your slacks and you pull back from his mouth, giving his fingers a quick, playful swat. “Hey, now. This is my payout from our bet so that means I get to call the shots, right?” 

A soft hum of amusement. The knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that pulls his smirk a little wider. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You should have expected as much from him. 

“Of course. Your wish is but my command. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m practically naked and you get to keep all your clothes on, that’s all.” 

“Hmm, and yet I don’t think that’s dissuading you by the looks of it.” You murmur, sending his straining cock a slow, pointed glance. Was that a tiny wet stain starting to form, bleeding through the lacy material? He was practically begging for it at this point and you were so very eager to give it to him. 

Trailing your sights a little lower, you reach down to tauntingly flick at the dangling garter clasp over his toned thigh. Kaeya’s twitching length eagerly flexes behind the thin barrier that tries its best to contain him at the close proximity of your hand, pushing the material further out from his pelvis. You could probably guess why he’d forgone the hose his garter belt should have hooked to but you were still a bit disappointed at their absence. His legs were so long and lean, firm from years spent atop a horse but densely packed with muscle. He would have looked stunning in them. 

“Didn’t have enough time to find yourself a pair of stockings, Captain?” 

He issues a low, breathy laugh even as he tries to subtly shift his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to angle his cock towards your hand. You’re quick to pull it away though, uninterested in giving him even that simple satisfaction or folding to his needy little demands just yet. Soon, but not yet.  

“I thought about it,” He says, obediently stilling again now that it was clear his bid wasn’t going to work. “But I’m unfortunately not half as well versed in these matters as you seem to be giving me credit for. I wasn’t sure what you would like and, more importantly, I didn’t know what would fit properly. There were so many options to choose from and I’d already made quite enough of a spectacle of myself, don’t you think?” 

“Did you go to the shop I told you about?” At his nod, you reach out again. Touch fingertips to the tight muscle running up his thigh and lightly draw your nails across it to make his breath come out in a tiny huff. “Then your secret is safe with them. I’d trust that dressmaker with my very life. I’m certain she would have helped you without any judgment or snide remarks.” 

“Dully noted.” 

You’re obviously distracting him quite a bit but Kaeya still manages to find the wherewithal to drag his attention slowly down your legs, like he was half remembering, half imagining how they would look without your pants in the way. He doesn’t make an attempt at wrestling control from you though, nor does he start throwing his greater weight around even though he very well could. In truth, he is perfectly compliant and malleable for you like this. Those were the parameters of the game, after all, and if there was one thing Kaeya could be trusted with it was his word. 

The agreement at the offset of this arrangement was that the winner took all while the loser paid up in full, no questions asked. You’d initially been wary to agree, anticipating him to stack the odds in his favor just so he could play out whatever pigheaded fantasies that seemed to plague the minds of men, but that had not been the case. Not only was he far more inclined towards soft, drawn out encounters of a rather tender persuasion, he was also perfectly amenable to taking orders too and he never cheated. As far as you could tell he really was just the type of person who craved intimacy with another but could only feel truly comfortable with a set of rules in place to give it structure. Almost like … it was almost like he feared giving too much of himself to a lover. Of saying too much, revealing too much. 

Playing it out this way would allow him to step back before things got too serious and he crossed a line he either wouldn’t or couldn’t bring himself to cross, as unwilling as he was unable to take that risk and find out what existed just beyond. It gave him the option of temporary companionship without any of the expectations that came with a traditional coupling. Perhaps it would have been sad had it not been exactly the same for you. Glorified spies weren’t exactly famous for their long life expectancies, you know. 

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you slide your hand inward and brush a light touch against the darker skin of his ballsack. His chest rises with a quiet hitch, hard nipples cutting up into the material of the bra as his one visible eye takes on a heavy lidded quality. It’s clear he’d been eagerly awaiting your touch and now that he’s got it a stiff edge starts to creep into his posture. 

Smiling up at him, you gently tease the weight of his testes where the skimpy underwear can’t quite seem to keep them contained. “It’s a shame I didn’t wear stockings either today, otherwise I could have given them to you. I mean it, Kaeya. You’d look so good in a nice pair of thigh highs.” Still fondling the silky flesh in your hand, you lean up to swipe a quick tongue over one tightly coiled nipple through flimsy lace. His lashes flutter for a brief moment and then he seems to regain his bearings, looking down at you like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky. Like he would do anything you could possibly ask of him in that moment. “Not to worry though, Captain. We’ll get you sorted out soon enough. For now though …” 

You give his balls a gentle, coaxing tug and he obediently shuffles forward half a step. It’s hard not to grin, seeing the kind of power he lets you hold over him in private like this. 

“Why don’t you give me a spin and let me see the back?” 

An almost affronted sound bursts out of him, as much a throaty laugh as it is a question at where your thoughts were headed. To his credit he doesn’t protest or act embarrassed about it though, and you simply let your hand slip away from his testicles when he moves to turn around. 

You’re not particularly surprised to find that the reverse of the garment is just as skimpy as the front. It’s hardly any wonder that such flimsy underwear can’t hold him in place, and you find yourself giggling as you slip a finger into the thin strip of fabric running between the cheeks of his tight little ass. Although hardly practical in terms of everyday wear, this was in many ways exactly what you’d been hoping for. 

“I have to be honest, Kaeya. I half expected you to go for something much more modest and reserved than this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you belonged in a brothel rather than on top of a horse leading the cavalry to victory.” 

“Hah. Do I really seem the shy type to you?” His response is edged in mirth and something much thicker, something that darkens his usually flirtatious tone. A challenge, you think, and it brings yet another smile to your face. 

“No, you don’t. Which is precisely why I think you deserve a reward for not disappointing me.” 

He starts to draw breath, already formulating a no doubt witty remark on the tip of his silver tongue, but it audibly catches when you curl your finger inward. Find the tight pucker of his hole and just brush against it. The tension running through his body abruptly doubles and then triples, becoming some almost tangible, vibrating thing. You can feel it bleeding into you through the contact even for as brief as it is, and you lightly rub the pad of that digit over his entrance again. Just testing the waters. Seeing how amenable he was to this type of play before you pushed your luck any further. 

Evidentially frozen to the spot, Kaeya just stands there for a long, harrowing beat of uncertainty. You’re sure that’s what it must be. But he manages to recover quickly enough, seems to shake off the surprise gripping his lungs. He hesitates and then gingerly pushes back, surprising you more than just a little bit. You’d teased this part of him in passing before but not like this. Not with the suggestion or the context of true penetration involved. 

There’s no denying it’s presence now though and your opposite hand instinctively comes up to hook over his shoulder, both to hold him in place and to gently nudge him down on your fingers again. 

“Oh, Kaeya,” You breathe out, flicking over his hole with a light back and forth gesture. Back and forth, back and forth, up and then down. “Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of reward?” 

“Even if I’m not, I'm certain you’ll prep me for it, won’t you?”  

Cheeky. That’s what he is. 

Giving his ass one final, lingering pass of your finger, you withdraw completely to grab a pinching tight handful of one cheek and offer it a quick jostle for good measure. “You’re right about that. Why don’t you be a good boy and get on the bed for me?”  

A quick, playful swat to his behind gets him in gear. He slowly turns back around to face you with a quiet, throaty laugh and you glance down as he moves to step past you. Something not unlike delight lights up within your chest at the way his cock eagerly bounces within the confines of his panties, the bleeding wet stain obvious now. It was hard to say what, exactly, he was expecting you to do next but he doesn’t question it. Doesn’t get huffy or roll out the masculine grandstanding. Just obediently steps up to the bed so he can climb on top, somehow still so poised and elegant even while wearing women’s lingerie with his balls hanging out of one side. So much so that it looks almost second nature to him, in a way. Yes, a reward was certainly due. He’d be in for a real treat here in a minute. 

Thinking back on the last time you’d fooled around and the absolute dripping mess he’d made of you, you decide that payback is indeed a bitch. 

“Like this?” He asks, posing like a tawdry slut on his hands and knees with his firm ass in the air. Some men may have looked ridiculous and laughable trying for sultry like that, but Kaeya somehow manages to pull it off. Between the svelte arch of his back, the way his narrow waist gradually tapers up to broad shoulders and the coquettish way he looks back at you, it’s clearer than ever that he knew how to put on a show. Even the heavy weight of his erection dragging at the paper thin garment trying to hold him in isn’t enough to make him look silly or awkward, and it probably would have made you green with envy had you not known with absolute certainty that your stake on him had already been claimed. This wasn’t a competition. 

“Not quite what I had in mind but it’ll do.” 

Stepping into the space between his feet where they dangle over the edge, you hook your finger into the red fabric running up his ass and tug it aside. His hole is dark and smooth, not unlike his ballsack in its silken appearance, and ever so slightly raised from your earlier minstrations that had only teased the muscle, not tested it. You’re distantly aware of him tensing up as you bend to get closer, opening your mouth to unfurl your tongue, but you don’t pause long enough to allow him a chance at protest. 

The first pass over his entrance makes Kaeya jolt like you’d electrocuted him, a tiny sound of startlement escaping his mouth. The second makes him hiss a soft expletive under his breath, and a third has him huffing out the faintest whimper you’ve ever heard. He shifts on top of the bed then, twisting his upper body to look back at you with his uncovered eye. Even from where you’re busy tonguing his asshole, you can clearly make out the fluster dancing across his face and it fills you with warm, fluttering delight. 

“I know you’re in charge here but … you don’t have to do that on my account.”

You come up for a fresh breath, pinning him with a saccharine sweet look. “What, you mean like how even when you don’t have to go down on me you do it anyway? Oh, I know. This is just a warm up though so let me have my fun, okay?” 

With a quick wink you swoop back down to press the flat of your tongue against his hole, swirling the wrinkled muscle to lathe it in saliva and encourage it to loosen up. He lets out another huffy breath, sounding like he isn’t quite sure what to do with this yet, how to accept it, but he still makes an attempt to relax into the sensation anyway. Resigned to his fate, evidently. Not that he seemed to find it entirely disagreeable, given the way you can see his toes flexing just at the peripheral of your vision, but you strongly suspected this was a first for him. 

Good. The less he expected what was coming the more explosive the final results were sure to be. Considering the mess he’d made of you last time he was going to be lucky if you didn’t turn him inside out before the night was through. 

Gripping his cheeks with both hands now and holding them spread apart, you lean into your work with renewed enthusiasm. You’re intentionally sloppy with it, letting yourself freely slobber over his hole and taint to ensure he was thoroughly coated before you moved on. This wasn’t something you wanted to rush anyway, far too keen on savoring the taste of him to do that, but with your greater objective in mind you especially wanted to err on the side of caution. One could never be too wet and lubed up, and you were sure Kaeya was going to agree with that by the time you were finished with him. 

And he groans so prettily when you dip your tongue into the center of his pucker, just breaching his body, that you have to do it again. And again. Fucking into him like this makes Kaeya twitch and subtly writhe, his breaths coming quicker and shorter as he weakly rolls his hips back to meet you. That he seems to struggle between thrusting out with his cock or riding your tongue with his ass is decidedly charming in its own right, and it only encourages you to keep going. To lap at him more vigorously, to drool more copiously until it feels vaguely like you’re eating out a particularly juicy cunt. It wasn’t often you managed to truly surprise him so you were happy to take advantage of this opportunity while you had it. 

Burying your face as far into his ass as you can, you seal your lips around his twitching entrance and gently suckle. Kaeya pulls in a sharp, vaguely frazzled breath in response but still instinctively arches his back to better present himself to you, plainly offering his hole up to your mouth. It may have been a brand new sensation for him, one he didn’t yet know how to process or brace against, but that clearly doesn’t make it any less physically satisfying and that pleases you a great deal. 

The previously tight ring of muscle quickly becomes raised and puffy under your attention but you don’t stop until his whimpering groans have turned pitchy with his growing need. That was exactly how you wanted him. Desperate for stimulation that was a bit more substantial, more meaningful, and you finally pull back with a loud, wet smack of your lips some moments later. A quick glance at the sloppy state of his puckered hole has you grinning from ear to ear, and you give Kaeya another quick swat to his raised behind as you straighten up. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Do you like when I go down on your slutty little ass?” 

He quietly seethes, offering you a short lived but no less plaintive shake of his behind. The motion is stiff and halting, like he didn’t want to give in to the urge but couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. But he immediately grows stills again, panting softly to make his shoulders rise and fall with the quickened inhale-exhales of arousal. “Don’t tell me you really plan on holding out on me if I don’t go along with the ‘slut’ routine …?” 

“Of course not. You can tell me to stop at any point and we’ll decide where to go from there. That’s one of our rules, isn’t it?” Failing to keep the mischief out of your voice, you reach between his legs to tug the panties aside in the front too. The weight of his balls seems glad to slide free of their lacy prison and his cock practically springs out, so stiff and leaking sticky precum that he hisses quietly in response. You feel resoundingly victorious as you finally wrap your fingers around that straining, aching length and give it a tauntingly halfhearted tug. Even for as minuscule as the friction is, he still weakly keens like it’s the best thing he’s felt in a very long time. “Just look at you. Do you really feel like anything other than a slut right now? Dressed like this and with your ass in the air … be honest, Kaeya.” 

The way his cock jumps in your hand and dribbles more beading clear fluid from the tip is answer enough. He could have kept his silence and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you. 

But your words hit their intended target straight on, and he gives a wholly unintentional jolt that makes the bed quietly creak. Perhaps embarrassed by his subconscious reaction or unbearably turned on by it, Kaeya groans low in his throat and presses his face into the bedding to muffle his response. “Do you seriously need to ask? You know I do … but you just want to hear me say it, isn’t that right?” 

“You got it. Remember all those filthy things you made me say the last time we were together?” 

His head suddenly comes up, a disbelieving guffaw punching out of him. “Is that what this is? Revenge?” 

“Something like that.” You shrug your shoulders, as innocent as can be when he twists around to look back at you again. “I just like to think that all is fair in love and war, I guess. You started it and now I’m rebalancing the playing field so to speak. That and … I do so enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees, you know.”

Kaeya’s expression turns wry at that but he doesn’t immediately snap back with some cute little remark. Instead he seems to think about it for a quick moment and then, surprising you and delighting you in equal measure, he suddenly smirks like he’s just realized he’s holding a winning hand. “Fine. I’m certainly not opposed to being on the receiving end, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Do your worst. Let’s see if you can make me say it.” 

That initial feeling of pleased bewilderment quickly vanishes, replaced by a simmering heat low in your gut as you mirror the look on his face with a sly grin of your own. “Is that how you want to play it? Gonna’ be a little brat for me?” 

“Only if you think you can handle it.” 

“Smart ass.” Suppressing the urge to laugh, you pull back from him and straighten up with another sound slap across his upturned cheek. “Get on your back for me. Let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.” 

“Oooh, I like where this is going.” 

It takes everything you have no to roll your eyes at his obvious wheedling while he gets turned over. Clearly he thought he could out maneuver you, somehow, if he just held onto his usual mask of sauve surety for long enough but you were sure you could rip it away from him with relative ease. For better or worse, not many men could keep their wits about them when faced with what you had in mind for him. 

Ignoring his pointed, haughty looks of challenge, you take a moment to disrobe down to your underwear so that the both of you were in a similar state of undress. Mainly because it was getting a bit warm in the cramped, stuffy room and also because it would make getting situated together that much smoother. 

You finally join him on the bed another moment later and Kaeya keenly watches as you crawl closer, smiling like the cat that ate the canary when you move to kneel between his legs. He was so sure of himself. So confident. That wasn’t going to do him much good in the long run though, and you take a moment to get comfortable before reaching out to palm along his strong calves. 

His cock had started to gradually flag in the interim, resting across his lower belly now, but you could tell it was just one caress away from springing right back to life again. All that pent up need to cum was going to be his undoing. 

“I’m waiting.” He drawls, idly toying with a long strand of his hair. “After the way you were talking, I expected - -“ 

Hunching over his pelvis, you lean down to lick a sudden, wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Whatever he’d wanted to say lodges in his throat with a hardly dignified grunt, his uncovered eye widening in obvious surprise as satisfaction lights up within your chest like a smoldering ember. He looked a bit startled, and a lot disarmed. The fact he hadn’t expected that either, that you’d managed to catch him off guard twice now is nothing short of gratifying, and you were ready to bat for three. 

Quickly, you swivel your attention back down before he has a chance to find his bearings. Open your mouth to flick at his glans with your tongue where it peeks out from behind the stretch of his foreskin. A strangled sound rises deep in his chest while his cock jumps to immediate attention, flexing up off his stomach for a brief moment before slapping back down with a meaty noise. He fitfully shifts atop the creaking bed and then tucks his chin against his chest to look down at you, his hips arching off the sheets in needy supplication. 

It’s a delicious sight to behold; the usually confident and suave Captain of the Cavalry so hot with need it had him antsy under your attention. You decide to take pity on him for the moment and lean down again, catching the flushed head of him between your lips so you can suck on it while you bring a hand around to grip at the base. You make sure to do everything quick and without warning so he doesn’t have a chance to brace himself for it, and he rewards you very handsomely for your efforts. 

Kaeya outright grunts like you’ve just sucker punched him, seething through tightly clenched teeth. Twists his balled up fists in the bedding and allows his head to fall back, moaning gruffly up at the ceiling while his stomach dramatically flexes at the abrupt sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock. You greatly enjoyed seeing him like this. Worked up enough for his sensitivity to be heightened but still so unaware of what you were building up to, what you were planning. 

It makes it incredibly easy to crowd your other hand close to your face so you can coat the fingers in spit, idly pumping his length in the absence of your tongue and lips. He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel downright devilish as you lean down to take him a third of the way into your mouth again, just short of brushing the back of your throat, and slip your now sticky digits between his legs. At the first tentative touch to his hole Kaeya chokes on another undignified sound but quickly bites it back. Wrestles it under control. You can tell it’s a struggle for him though, and you were more certain than ever that he wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this. It really was a brand new experience for him. 

“Don’t tense up,” You murmur, coming off his cock just enough to speak. “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?” 

He tries to laugh it off but it doesn’t quite come out sounding very calm or casual. “Trust isn’t the issue. Telling me not to tense up … now that is a tall order.” 

“You told me to do my worst.” You lightly remind him. 

“And I stand by that.” Drawing a slow, deep breath that makes his hole subtly flex under your fingertips, he releases it with a drawn out exhale. Carefully inches his long legs a little further apart to give you more space, better access, in a clear display of submission and acceptance. “Do it. I’m not going to stop you.” 

“That sounds rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Gently, you rub your fingers over his hole again. It was still wet with saliva and puffy from before, the center puckered enough that you could feel the skin start to give way under the slow pass of your ministrations. If you’d planned on using anything much bigger than this you would have needed real lube. He was just too tight and unstretched to accommodate much else without the proper prep. But for a finger or two, this should be fine. 

Perhaps sensing your train of thought, he shifts again and peers down at you. His gaze is heavy and distant, and you think he’s probably blushing right up to his ears under the dark complexion of his skin as he carefully curls one leg up to better present his entrance to you. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. If you say it will feel good then I believe you, just … take it slow, okay?” 

You weren’t used to seeing him express any kind of doubt or uncertainty like this, and you offer him a warm smile in return. Curl your fingers to find the center of his hole and just prod into it, teasing the slackening muscle with the suggestion. His mouth parts as if to groan or perhaps sigh, but nothing comes out, like he can’t quite find the oxygen to do either. “I will. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax your body into it. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.” 

He nods once, clearly distracted by what you were doing with your hand. That was as good a sign as any in your eyes so you give a little push that sinks the tip of the middle digit into him. It wasn’t true penetration yet but it’s enough for you to feel the intense heat of his guts and how the muscle tries to clench at the pressure. Pausing there, you give your finger a careful wriggle to coax his hole into opening up more for you. You can feel him trying to brace against it, to hold himself in check, and his raised leg visibly falters in the air as a result. 

Quickly releasing your hold on his length, you reach up to grab his ankle and guide it over your shoulder. He hesitates, almost seems to want to fight it at first and then allows his leg to slide into place with a stiff, almost whiny hiss. He wasn’t used to this, you remind yourself as you give his calf a brief squeeze of reassurance. Kaeya was typically more accustomed to being the instigator, not the one at someone else’s mercy. All of your previous wins had been cashed in with relatively tame asks. You’d sat on his face multiple times now, though you suspected that was as much a treat for him as it was for you. In truth he’d gone down on you more times than you could count and on more than one occasion had even stuffed his thumb into your ass upon request while he took you from behind. The most daring thing you’d asked of him thus far had been to ride him out on the shoreline beaches of Cider Lake in the dead of night and he’d certainly fulfilled that fantasy with star glitter results. 

But the current situation saw you firmly in control and it took all the power away from him, leaving his usual cool nothing more than a distant memory. He holds himself so stiffly there on top of the bed that you can see the thick bands of muscle across his chest bulging under the skin, his lean stomach so tensed it almost looks concave from this angle. At the subtle wriggle of your finger Kaeya haltingly twists his upper body against the sheets, leaving them in a wrinkled ruin, but his lower half remains almost stock still. Like he didn’t trust himself to move just yet when he had no idea what was truly coming. 

All the better, really. You could take pity on him if you’d wanted but he hadn’t shown any of that restraint the last time when he’d reduced you to a babbling, squirting mess. If you could do the same to him, you’d consider this a resounding victory. 

“Relax, Kaeya,” You breathe out, and his cock eagerly flexes up off his stomach again at the cool waft of air. “I promise you’ll like this.” 

A small, throaty whimper is the only answer you get but it’s as close to acquiescence as you’re likely to get. 

Holding the breath in your lungs, you carefully start to push deeper into him. The resistance of his body is unmistakable but the right amount of pressure applied to the very center of his sphincter soon has you slipping in past that initial barrier. His entire frame shakes with the haggard, threadbare gasp he sucks in before going so completely still you can’t be sure if he’s still breathing or not even as the constricting heat of his guts fully envelops your digit. Gentle yet insistent, you keep going until you can feel the puffed up rim of his asshole pressing against your knuckle. It’s only then that you pause, just letting the simple penetration sink in and for him to adjust to it as you dip your face close to his pelvis again. 

“Take a deep breath, good boy. For me?” You murmur, lips brushing over the curve of one testicle. 

He immediately draws another quick, flustered exhale; the noise catching in his throat with a low choking sound. His cock springs up with it and strains skyward, lurching so powerfully it smacks against your cheek with a small meaty slap. 

You laugh, unable to help it, and that seems to dislodge the tortured groan he’s been valiantly fighting back this entire time. It bursts out of him with a suddenness that would have startled you had you not been fully aware of how enthusiastically his inner sleeve was clenching around you in sporadic pulses. Like he was torn between tensing up or relaxing into it, and the end result all but has him milking himself on your finger. 

Heady with that knowledge, you bring your head up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, pulling it in deep. Kaeya lets out a broken little sob, once again twisting in the bedding while his leg uselessly flexes over your shoulder. He’s usually much more in control than this, and you’re exceedingly glad that you chose to do it in this position because it allows you to glance up the length of his pulled taut body and look at his face. His pinched expression is one of ruin and desperation, his fluster as plain as day. 

You’d never seen him look quite like that before and you drink it in, committing it all to memory while you flick your tongue over his satiny slit to lick up all the bitter precum leaking out of him. The deep furrow of his brows leaves a small wrinkle between them, further highlighted by the light sheen of sweat starting to form along his skin. His teeth clench tight when he swallows hard, making his jaw powerfully flex, and then his mouth warbles back open again to let loose the faintest, faltering groan you’ve ever heard. He seems to be torn between looking down at you, watching what you were doing, and fixing his hazy attention on the ceiling overhead. It has him fitfully squirming, his knee bumping your arm when it squeezes inward to accompany the deep clench of his innards. 

Content to leave it at that and just watch him, you don’t think to proceed any farther. But then he manages to surprise you this time when he finally tucks his chin to his chest and peers down at you with an imploring look so unspeakably needy it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Please,” He breathes out. So hushed and quiet you almost miss it despite the close proximity and the total lack of any other noise, save the distant sounds of the tavern in full swing down below. “Need to cum ...” 

Oh. 

Suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter, you give his cock one last lingering suck and pull off. It twitches in the absence of your mouth and strains after you, his pelvis needily lifting, but you just pin him with a slow simmering smile to still him again. “Do you now?” 

At his terse nod, you draw a deliberate breath that makes his thighs eagerly tense up in anticipation. 

“Are you going to say it?”

Kaeya’s thin attempt at laughter bounces off the walls, so transparent it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was trying to bluff. Trying and failing. “You really want to hear me say it that badly?” 

“I’d enjoy it but I have no intention of withholding from you if you don’t. It’s just part of the game, that's all. But more importantly,” You pause to give your finger another wriggle inside him, and he outright chokes on the sensation. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you slowly curl that digit upward to feel along his inner wall in search of the tight cluster of nerves that would have him seeing stars. “Let’s find that sweet spot of yours, hm?” 

A low, gravelly moan rattles inside his chest as you poke and prod at him, massaging his interior with gentle insistence until you locate the telltale mass nestled just on the other side. It’s no bigger than a walnut but he gives a full bodied shudder the second you put any amount of pressure on it, and your pussy clenches in sympathetic excitement when he stiffens up. His mouth hinging open in surprise as much as deeply felt pleasure, Kaeya issues a half strangled mewl into the statically charged room, noticeably higher in octave than usual and raspy. It sounds heavenly to your ears. 

“Aaahhn - -“ 

“Ooh, there it is. And so sensitive too. I’ve barely even touched it yet and you’re already …” 

Gaze dropping, you watch his cock wildly flex as yet more creamy discharge bubbles up out of the slit. It gathers so quickly, and in such a thick concentration, that when you idly press up on his prostate again it flings right off at the sudden jolt of his achingly stiff length. The nearly translucent fluid stands out against his complexion where it splatters on his stomach and you have to make a conscious effort to stop yourself from chasing after it with your tongue. This was somehow even better than you’d imagined it would be. 

“Do you like that, Kaeya?” 

He tries to speak, croaks out something unintelligible, and has to pause to clear his throat once, twice, before trying again. “Mm’not sure yet but …” 

“But?” 

“Please do it again.” 

You grin from ear to ear, delighting in doing just that but with added pressure this time. Where your first few brushes against that tight little cluster had been soft and coaxing, you now curl the pad of your finger directly into it and massage it with steady strokes. Kaeya reacts like you’d given him a shock of electro, his entire body heaving and locking up in sudden tension that is at complete odds with the way his cock impotently jerks through the air like it’s got a mind of its own now. And he just keeps leaking a near constant stream of sticky precum that seems to bubble up quicker every time you rub against his prostate. It beads and gathers at the tip before dribbling off the next time his length flexes and you aptly watch as it falls, leaving a glistening thread trailing down to his stomach where it lands not far from the first. 

It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your own urges in check as you watch him wheeze through it, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and yet unwilling — or unable? — to shy away from what you were doing to him. He certainly could have if he’d wanted to. Kaeya was not only twice your size but double your strength too. If he really deemed it to be too much for him to take anymore, he could have all too easily put a stop to it one way or another. 

Instead, he gasps like his soul is actively trying to leave his body and writhes stiffly before — slowly hiking his other leg up to curl it around you. It suddenly feels like your chest is constricting too tight for you to breathe, and it’s only a subconscious reaction that has you nudging your arm down so he can hook his knee over it much the same as the first. You don’t give it any deeper thought than that. You can’t, not when it was as if your brain was flatlining and all you could think to do is accommodate him. If he wanted to do this with his legs in the air like a proper slut then that was what he would have. 

And surely no one could fault you for that when it was by far one of the hottest things you’d ever been lucky enough to have a front row seat for. You felt like you were going to explode and your neglected cunt hadn’t even been touched yet. 

“Nnghhn, that’s … oh, that’s good. Unexpected but — good.” He sounds incredibly winded, like he’d just returned from running all the way out to Dragonspine and back without taking a break anywhere in between. The damp quality of his skin gives the same impression where it was making some of his dark hair stick to his temple and cheeks in a few spots of gathering perspiration. 

Truth be told Kaeya already looked wrecked beyond repair but you wanted to ruin him even more. How could you not when he was so devastatingly gorgeous and all yours for the taking? 

“You really like it? You’re such a good boy for me, y’know that. I really wanted you to enjoy this.” 

“I am,” He grits out with no shortage of effort, his narrow hips juddering slightly in their elevated position. You’re even more glad for your foresight now because it makes it all the easier for you to adjust the angle of your finger when his pelvis is up off the bed and you attack his prostate with renewed vigor now, earning yourself another tortured moan. “Ohh! Ahn … please. Need to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Kaeya. I’m not going to stop fingering your ass until you do.” 

The sound that bursts out of him is downright wounded, guttural and keening. Whiny, almost. He writhes so uncontrollably you can tell he’s getting dangerously close and the excited quiver of his guts only serves to further solidly that impression. You know it’s only a matter of moments now and your pulse skyrockets as he blindly reaches up to squeeze at his own chest through the lacy cups of the bra. His dark nipples cut up into the fabric, as stiff as can be and begging for friction. It’s almost too much for you to bear but you persistently keep going even when your wrist starts to cramp from the constant flexing and the tight angle. If you’d had the time for it you probably would have tried to worm a second finger into the tight heat of his squeezing passage but it was already much too late for that. 

His breaths coming in quicker, shorter bursts, Kaeya tips his face down to look at himself. The red lace stretched across his pectorals and around his waist, flimsy panties pulled aside and away from his bobbing cock while he’s got his long legs draped over your shoulders. The sight seems to surprise a faltering groan out of him, and he struggles to keep his eye open and trained on you when his expression pinches tight. 

“Burn everything, I’m going to cum. I’m cumming. Yes, yes, yesssss, aghhn, keep fucking my s - slutty ass until I — I - -“

His head suddenly falls back against the bed, viciously seething up at the ceiling while his cock gives its most violent jerk yet. Ropes of thick, milky semen shoot out of the slit in an abrupt eruption that almost manages to catch you off guard. The weight of him pendulously swings with the sheer force of his ejaculation, sending it back towards you just in time for the next pulse to catch you across the chest. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Not even so much as a peep. 

Making the impulsive decision to put it to good work anyway, you quickly swoop down and catch the head of him between your lips with mere seconds to spare. The third jet of potent discharge shoots off at the back of your throat and your eyes roll back in fluttering bliss at the same time Kaeya cries out in deeply frazzled distress. The way he clenches, so fervent and tight he feels like a livewire on the brink of snapping, makes it apparent that he hadn’t expected to find himself cumming directly into your mouth. That pleases you a great deal too, especially when it seems to elongate his pleasure. Drags it out with yet another roiling heave that sends more bitter semen squirting down your gullet. 

He doesn’t have anything else left to give after that though, and further pressure on his prostate just coaxes out a thin, watery discharge that tastes of potent salt on your tongue. You groan low in your chest at the bitter flavor even as you dutifully swallow it down where it can settle hot and heavy in your gut. Kaeya just hisses like an incensed wildcat at the overstimulation before finally making an attempt to shirk away from it, sensitively curling his lower half inward. 

Letting go of him immediately, you watch his cock swing forward with an accompanying thread of glistening spittle stretched between your mouth and the glans. It stays upright for a short beat or two before swooning down towards his stomach when it quickly starts to soften in it’s thoroughly spent state. You give your lips a quick lick to rid them of any lingering spit and turn your attention up at his face, leaving your finger wedged inside for the moment but angled away from that sensitive bundle along his upper wall to give him a moments reprieve. 

He’s got his head turned away and hidden behind an arm carelessly tossed over his eyes, still trying to calm his erratic breaths. You give him another minute or two, then reach up with your unoccupied hand to rub over his belly in comforting circles while actively trying to avoid the goopy mess he’s made all over himself. “Are you alright, Captain? Is there anything I can get for you?”  

“Yeah.” He barks out a short, mirthless laugh as he stirs, working to unhook his long legs from you with cautiously slow movements. “You can take your panties off and get over here. I think I owe you a little payback of my own after that.” 

Your pussy gives a muted throb of excitement, but you don’t immediately jump at the chance to do as he’d asked. Both because you wanted to check in on him first without getting distracted and because you were still lodged inside him up to the knuckle. Suddenly pulling out might come as a shock if he wasn’t ready for it. 

“There will be time for that later,” You remind him gently. “I think we should talk about you first. How do you feel?” 

Finally moving his arm, Kaeya looks down at you with a sardonically lifted brow. “You can’t be serious. You really need to ask? Just look at exhibit A.” He gestures meaningfully at the sticky discharge splattered across his front, making you take note of the goopy stains on the band of his garter belt for the first time. He certainly had cum a lot, hadn’t he? “Never mind that I just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and it’s going to take me longer than usual to bounce back from it. Need I also remind you that you got me to say what you were fishing for earlier?” 

You can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at the memory. “You sure did. I’d almost given up.”

“You know I don’t like to disappoint.” A smirk tugs at his mouth but it quickly vanishes when he tucks his knees upward, opening himself up to you and giving you a picture perfect shot of your finger crammed in his ass up to the hilt. Oh, if only you had a kamera on hand.

“Can you, uh …” 

“Of course. Just relax the muscles as much as you can and try not to clench.” With that, you gently start to ease your hand back. Despite your helpful suggestion his interior still tries to cling to you on the way out and Kaeya seethes at the sensation. It doesn’t escape your notice that he actively refuses to look at you during this process but you couldn’t really hold that against him. Some men became cripplingly shy and embarrassed once the heat of the moment has worn off, others got angry at themselves for enjoying it so much. 

Kaeya didn’t seem to be either embarrassed or angry though. If anything, he almost struck you as … vulnerable in that moment. Like he was confident enough in his own masculinity, his own ego, not to let something like this rattle him. Rather you’d seen another side of him tonight that you were unfamiliar with and he was — uncertain how you would react? 

Could that really be it though? 

Curiosity lights up the back of your mind in stunning high definition. You’re already forming the question on the tip of your tongue as your finger pops free and he groans very faintly, wincing at the loss. But youre quick to lean over him before he can turn away onto his side, getting right in his face so he has no choice but to look up at you. 

“Kaeya, do you - -“ 

He abruptly pushes up, catching your lips and silencing you in one fell swoop. You issue a soft sound of surprise against his mouth but he just swallows the sound, kissing you so heatedly you can’t fight being coaxed into the motion. Giving in with a stilted sigh, you half melt into the exchange and kiss him back with your own hunger, your own need reflected in the hard press of your mouth against his. 

When he finally pulls away a long moment later, he’s effectively stolen your breath and almost made you forget what you were going to ask. Almost, but not quite. 

“You should know by now I’m not so easily distracted.” You pant, pinning him with a mock rueful look. 

“Oh trust me, I do. It’s one of the many things I like about you, if I’m being honest.” He murmurs back, his tone low and hushed yet once again colored with silken promise. It almost comes as more of a surprise than the kiss had, how quickly he could rebuild his walls and put the mask back on. At your look of confusion, though, he just offers up a sly little grin. “It wasn’t actually meant to distract you. We can talk about it later. Promise. For right now though, I think the far more pressing matter is seeing if I can make you cum half as hard as I just did. That only seems like a fair exchange, doesn’t it?”  

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh out, even as your nipples harden painfully fast against the interior of your bra at the simple suggestion. You wanted to feel his touch there, between your legs, everywhere and all at once. This arrangement was fun and games on the surface but deep inside there was something else brewing, taking hold of you and growing. Would he be as amenable to that as he’d been with this kind of play? 

You’re not so sure when his own vulnerability was already such a touchy subject to broach but the way he leans up to press a tender kiss against your lips seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for him too. He was scared. You were scared. Perhaps the two of you could be scared together. 

“I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.” He teases, and the resulting warm caress of his breath against your skin makes you shudder. A pleased look crosses Kaeya’s face as he reaches a hand up to palm along your waist, your hip and finally down into the waistband of your underwear so he can possessively smooth it over the curve over your ass. “Stop thinking about it so hard. We’ll sort it out soon enough, once I’ve taken care of that sweet little pussy for you. Surely you wouldn’t rather I leave you high and dry?” 

It’s a frustratingly easy question to answer. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Chuckling, he gives you a tight, lingering squeeze that makes your breath catch. “Let’s get these panties off then. I have a few ideas I want to try out on you now that it’s my turn. I wonder how loud I’ll be able to make you scream this time.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #self insert bullshit

[t-r99]

Thank You

Oliver knows it can be hard to trust him. He would do anything to prove that he changed when he met you.

I spent way too long writing this stupid thing and now I think it’s crap. Bleh

It's because I posted this

Oliver Aiku x reader

wc: 1.3k

"What's going on with you? At this rate we'll be the laughingstock of Japan."

Aiku ignores Niou. For the first time in his life, he's distracted during a match. He's the captain of the team and their best defender, but he can hardly focus on anything other than you and your teary eyes and broken voice.

It's been two days.

It feels longer.

Aiku doesn't like being away from you for this long and that's what's fucking with him. He doesn't know when he got so attached.

He's Oliver Aiku, for goodness' sake. He doesn't do relationship issues, he usually is the issue itself, and he doesn't exactly do relationships either.

It's the first time he's ashamed of being a so called womanizer. Aiku's past antics have finally come back to bite him in the ass.

"You okay there?" Sendou asks.

Everyone is well aware of the fact that something is wrong. Aiku has been mostly quiet and keeping to himself for the past two days, having only practiced like crazy.

"'m fine." Oliver grunts.

"Get yourself together then." Niou says. "We need you out there."

The team needs him, but Aiku needs you. He feels so lost without you that it's nauseating.

Oliver thinks back to two days prior when several old flings suddenly showed up out of nowhere.

It's not like it was ever a secret that he used to get around, but it all changed when he met you. You're so much more than that, and now you think he's just a shameless cheater.

"Aiku," Niou speaks again. "get your shit together. We're going back out in ten minutes."

Oliver . . . doesn't care.

All he wants is to hold you right now. Aiku is sure you hate him, and why wouldn't you? Before you actually gave him a chance, you rejected him because of his past and reputation, then when you finally gave him a chance you ended up walking in on a bunch of girls all over him. How could anyone not think he was cheating?

If only you would talk to him. Oliver just wants to explain what happened.

He's looking down at his phone, screen black. While he wants to text you, he honestly has no idea what to type out anymore.

Aiku's mind drifts again and he thinks back to two days ago.

What do I say? I should . . . He sighs. Oliver really has no idea what to say. He's already called and texted numerous times but you haven’t answered or replied.

He sees your face in front of him again and he hears your voice echo in his mind, "I knew it. This is what I was scared would happen but you promised and now . . ." You didn't yell at him, but he honestly wishes you had. You just sounded defeated.

Aiku wants to bash his head into the nearest wall in an effort to erase the memory from his mind.

His phone vibrates, barely a minute before half time is over.

It's not from you. Of course it isn't. Oliver doesn't recognize the number, but the bottom of the text says that it's from one of your friends, reading, I was asked to text you that you're being pathetic. Come on, you're better than that.

Asked? Asked by whom? By you?

Aiku gulps. Does that mean you're watching the match from home? You've never actually been interested in sports, but if you're watching even when hurt and pissed at him then maybe . . .

Oliver puts his phone away.

He's still a bit distracted now that the second half has begun, but it's not as bad anymore. He now knows you watched the first half and Oliver hopes you're still watching.

You know a bit about the sport even though you're not a fan, and you've praised him for his skills plenty. It swells his ego like never before to have you tell him he did a great job on the field.

He's thinking about it now while facing the opposing team's striker. If everything between you two was okay right now, he would defend the goal and block the shot, make sure no one would score, his team would win, and he would get to go to you and get praised and smothered with kisses all over his face, he absolutely loves it.

God, he really wants to see you.

*

It was close, but they won.

The team celebrates but Oliver sits defeated, towel on his head with his hair covering his eyes.

He managed to get his shit together enough to block every shot from the opposing team but now that the match is over he's once again reminded of how you're not there to tell him he did well.

Aiku takes his gloves off and tosses them to the side.

The team notices, but no one says anything. They think he's mentally reprimanding himself for his performance in the first half.

Oliver only got himself together because he knew you were watching, not wanting to disappoint you. Now he wishes he could just hug you and annoy you with endless, "Did you see what I did? I was amazing, wasn't I?"

He grabs his phone, hoping he'll unlock it to find a message from you, but there's nothing.

Nothing, He thinks, locking it again.

Aiku gets up and showers. The team wants to go out for a celebratory dinner but he declines.

That finally makes everyone start to pester him. One is asking what his issue is, another asks if something happened, someone tells him he's acting weird, but Oliver ignores everything.

"I want to be alone." He says, picking his bag up.

What an idiot he is.

You're too good for him, he doesn't deserve you.

Aiku pushes the exit door open and looks up.

"Wha-. . ."

He's dreaming right?

The second your eyes meet you look down, brows furrowing. You look both hurt and anxious, hands balled into fists by your sides, shifting your weight on your feet, just uncomfortable.

Are you uncomfortable because you're finally in his presence again? The question crosses Aiku's mind and he swears he feels actual physical pain.

He drops his bag.

You're honestly caught off guard when he sprints up to you and engulfs you in a near suffocating hug.

Oliver clings to you desperately, pulling you into his chest with a relieved sigh. He nuzzles into your shoulder for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of holding you in his arms again, then turns his head to kiss your kiss and buries his face in the side of your neck. "I never wanted to hurt you." Aiku mumbles.

He sounds so defeated.

You don't do much, only putting a hand on the back of his head. "What happened the other day?" Your voice is small and quiet.

"I don't know." Oliver admits.

"You ever cheated on me?" You ask.

Deep down you know that the answer is no. Oliver dotes on you and never fails to show how much you mean to him. Sure, you had your doubts in the beginning, but he's never given you a reason to think he was fooling around with others.

Oliver gives a soft, "No." and hugs you tighter.

"Okay." You mumble, playing with his hair. "I believe you."

"Yeah?" Aiku sighs in relief. "Thank you."

"It's not easy, though."

"I know." Oliver is well aware of his reputation. He's never cared before, but he does now. He cares because it affects you. "I'm sorry."

"You were really pathetic in the first half." You suddenly say and he snorts, smiling. "Did my message help?"

"Why didn't you text me yourself?" He asks.

"I wanted to see you in person before talking over the phone."

Oliver pulls back enough to look down at you. You're looking away from him with a small pout on your face, a light blush on your cheeks. "Thank you." He kisses your temple.

#blue lock #bllk #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #aiku x reader #blue lock oliver aiku

[sashimiyas]

hajime receives his test back first.

you watch him from two seats away, a modest chair between the two of you established from the very first day of class. despite the fact that it’s become routine to walk out of class together. he’s even accepted invites to study sessions eagerly.

there’s no marks on the back of his exam. one question confirmed to be right, but with the way that hajime’s begun to basically meditate, it does not console him.

he keeps his breaths regulated and you find the man beside you fascinating, ignoring the quiet cheers and disgruntlement surrounding you as everyone slowly receives their score.

hajime, you’ve noticed, takes it one step further than the rest. soaking in the knowledge, not only does he retain it, but commits to its practice. a section from last exam was about respiration and he’s certainly respiring.

you flip your exam over the moment it lands on your desk. average. you’re not disappointed, but you’re definitely not impressed with yourself either.

“how’d you do?”

without a word, you tilt the papers to show him your score and hajime immediately lights up.

“oh shit! you did good!”

his sentiment makes you smile only because you know if he got this score, he’d be beating himself up about it for the next week and immediately email the professor on how to get extra credit.

“how about you?”

it’s like he’d completely forgotten his because he flops his head forward into his hands, heavy with a groan.

“fuuuuckk, i don’t know.”

“flip it.”

“i will.”

“flip it!”

“wait one second!”

“if you don’t do it, i will.”

hajime tamps your palm flat against the desk with his. your startle dies in your throat when you see the conviction in his eyes. strength schooled across his face, he turns the pages over before him.

you’ve seen beauty influencers more blemished than his test and you find your smile growing with hajime’s.

he curses underneath his breath and though it’s common in his vocabulary, it’s easy to tell what’s a good curse word versus a bad one.

“look at you.” hajime’s easy to tease, ears going pink. shy, but he faces it knowing that it’s well deserved.

“professor’s office hours really helped.”

“are you saying that our study sessions aren’t helpful?”

“no!” his reply is so earnest you can’t help but feel bad. hajime turns to you, focus coming at you in full force. one seat of separation suddenly feels immodest now that you’re also heavily aware of the way his palm feels pressed against the back of your hand. “of course, i don’t think that.”

“i’m just joking,” you laugh nervously. it’s weighted by something in your chest, something that you’re beginning to realize with an absolute clarity. “conner’s not even here because he’s too scared to see his grade in person. i was just kidding.”

conner’s a flimsy excuse but anything to remind yourself that you know hajime as a part of group, and not as someone for your own.

he respirates again, taking in your words. there’s so much honesty in his actions, a conviction that is so true it’s harder to face than the fear of a failing grade.

his voice is quiet when he responds. “i can be a square sometimes.”

why does that get you?! why is a square suddenly the most attractive shape in the world?

“but i’m happy you guys invited me into the study group. and i can’t wait to get to know you guys more so i can joke around with you too.”

god, if he keeps talking like that, he’ll square away your heart too.

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!! #i work with an amazing chef who said the square line #and my heart trembled because that is so sweet

[akronus-writes]

Natures wrath

he can't remember what his "real" name was, but he can remember what his mother called him "her little crow" which made sense, he was relatively small compared to the other kids and fond of all forms of nature. Mother was a lovely woman, she always helped him when he didn't really know how to garden or take care of his pet crow, Corvius.

He always spent his time gardening and roaming the woods with Corvius, even as he entered Highschool and the other kids became more obsessed with cars, partying, and sex. which led to some expected bullying.

while he was used to this bullying, he always found some comfort with Corvius, no matter what the bullies tried, until one day they went too far. after he offhandedly compared the lead bully to a pathetic bird, he earned a harsh beating from his peers, their positions as the star players of the schools football team allowing them to get off scott free.

later, Crow would spend his after school time on walking through the woods, Corvius a few metres in front of him. Crow couldn't help but appreciate the way his closest friend flew through the air gracefully, and he couldn't help but envy his friends freedom and power to fly through the air.

suddenly, he was broken out of his stupor by a sickening "Crunch", as a rock hit Corvius and sent the corvid directly into the ground. panicked, Crow ran up to his injured friend, to focused on the bird to notice the group that surrounded him.

Crow felt every single kick and punch, as he struggled to shield his injured friend. and as the teenagers left, he continued to lay there, crying next to the bird, even as the sun fell below the horizon, and a search party came looking for him.

the search party was only slightly successful, finding the dead corpse of a bird which neighbours would later identify as the missing boys pet crow. but never found the actual child.

three weeks later, the star players of the local football team disappeared, one of the boys trucks was found destroyed in the woods, somehow already overgrown by plant life.

the next day the 8 boys were found in the same clearing of Corvius, their feet and legs either horrifically mangled or severed, covered by hundreds upon hundreds of crows which has cut into the boys skin with their claws, which refused too move from on top of the boys until police shot at them.

it took another 5 weeks to get a single one of the boys to talk, and even then police can draw no real conclusions.

"w-we were driving on the road, yeah some of us where drinking, but johnny (the owner of the truck) wasn't, but suddenly the damned car just... swerved off the road! we were thrown into the woods when the truck crashed, and I can barely r-remember anything but that, that thing. I-it was like a man, but it had giant wings, like a crows, and th-those crows they were under its control! I-it had them tear into our legs and scratch at us, it wanted to torment us"

the boy would refuse to make any further comment, though one would later draw what he claimed too be the attacker. the drawing was that of a man wearing a plague doctors outfit with a hood instead of any hat, covered in vines and other plant life, with a large pair of crow wings behind him.

authorities would later ban entering the woods due to the strange, and unexplainable hostility that the local wildlife showed to anyone who entered.

@f4y3w00d5 @gobodegoblin @good-wizard @monsterfucker-research-wizard