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begko · 5 months

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keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys.

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience.

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors.

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!”

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on.

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?”

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie.

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

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undermine-the-instinct · 4 months

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Flies in Honey

Mahito/Reader/Yuji Word count 3K

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, EXTREME NONCON, mIndbreak, character death (reader insert)/ You’re already dead prior to this fic, Mahito uses your body, Mahito is his own warning, humiliation, victim blaming, profanity.

Aged up characters. Spoilers for jjk S2. Consider this an Au where Todo dies and Yuji loses against Mahito.

Yuji doesn’t know how he got here.

It's dark, and damp, wherever he is. It soaks into the rags of his clothes and his exposed skin, gravel tearing at his back. He hardly feels it.

The cracks on the ceiling fissure and twist together, but he’d rather look at them. It's better to look above him than what lies before him.

He’s wearing your face.

Above him, you sigh, breathy and high pitched, Your hips roll into his, and Yuji bites back a hiss. His hands lay limp at his sides.

“Why aren't you saying anything? I thought you would like this.” Your voice is wrong, you’re talking with his voice and Yuji feels the bile rise in his throat.

You switch rhythm, and Yuji chokes on his spit as you bounce up and down his cock. His hands spasm into claws, but no, he doesn't touch you. He won't, he won't.

You laugh. It's so fucked up but he sounds like you.

“You like this better, right?“

“Fuck you–” It was a bad idea to talk. Your– Mahito's hand shoots out and he sticks three fingers into his open mouth to gag him. Two on his tongue, the other on the roof of his mouth, keeping his mouth open. He chokes, but Mahito presses down on his tongue.

He’s going to come again. What number was this? He lost count around the fourth. All he could focus on was the hot coil in his belly, the tightening of his balls and that horrible fucking sound of your warped laughter when he spills, again.

It shouldn’t feel this good. He wants to tear his fucking skin off. He wants to bite down on the fingers in his mouth, he wants to curl into a ball and never wake up.

He's not going to admit to himself he's enjoying this, that he's missed this. It's not you. You're dead. You died, and it's Yuji's fault. All of it is. He got to you, and now he's wearing your likeness like it's a new coat, the bitch.

But damn, it really looks like you.

“I memorized everything about her, you know.” Your fingers leave his mouth, punched out gasps leave his chest while hands drag down his skin, drawing red lines.

“She was fun to play with. Stubborn too. Kept fighting even when I made her unable to,” he giggles.

“But she made the prettiest sounds when she finally broke. Prettier when we slept together too. She was just like you–Human. Always trying to deny yourselves at your most desperate, out of some half formed sense of dignity. See?” He presses down with your body, chest to chest while your walls flutter around him. Yuji’s eyes roll back, his hands leave bloody gorges in the ground.

“But human dignity is just the same as human depravity; you can't hide your baser instincts even in the worst circumstances, huh?”

Yuji would fight back, but his head is swimming, and his bones feel like they’re replaced with jello. There is a rage that simmers as he talks though, and Yuji bites his tongue until he tastes iron. It drips through the hole in his cheek. Mahito sees this and sighs.

"Your base instinct is to kill me. My base instinct is to murder your soul. That's what this is." He gestures between the two of them, not breaking pace. His hand drifts down, and he wipes away at the blood on his face, though he only succeeds in smudging it more.

“I did the same thing to her. Took your face and made her tell me how to do it right.”

“You’re sick–”

“I consider myself considerate. It's why you’re here and not dead.” He stops moving, tilts his head and meets Yuji's eyes in an eerie stare you've never given him. “Did you know that was my first time? I liked it.” You, fuck, he tilts your head, eyes pointed up in thought.

“Well, I'm a ‘human curse’ so I guess of course I would.”

“You fucking–” This time Yuji tries to buck him off, get some room in between them to get a hit in, but all he accomplishes is Mahito pushing him down and pinning his hands, going back to his earlier motions. Yuji's weaker now. Maybe its because its your face. He could never fight against you, even while sparring.

“That's how–I was able to memorize it too. All her faces, her sounds, what she likes. I wanted to understand you, through her. And now," a sound, high pitched and miserable leaves Yuji's throat.

"You like it too, right? A perfect replica, right? Wanna keep going?” Yuji just shakes his head, and tries to fight off his grip. But Mahito has more hands, and he remains pinned. He can't help the slight bucking of his hips, and when he notices, Mahito grins, a ruddy flush spreading across your face in a bald faced insult.

He can't breathe. He needs to vomit.

You had gone missing weeks ago, called on a mission to deal with a second grade level curse. Nothing too hard for you, it was a quick job and everyone had thought that you’d be in and out.

But cursed spirits have been acting strange lately, and everyone simply thought that it was due to the encroaching Halloween date. Due to various thoughts and practices towards the day, this was normal. But you had gone missing and the only sign of your whereabouts came from another encounter with the patchwork curse.

He went down to the sewers with Mr.Nanami, following the smallest clues they had towards your disappearance, where they met Patchwork. He had been vague and leering and lewd, and it was the first time Yuji saw Mr. Nanami’s face twist into such visceral rage. He mirrored the feeling, but Mahito had escaped, along with any other clues to where you were.

He had tossed a lump of...something to Yuji with a mocking grin, spongy and pale. They took it back to Miss Shoko, and it was confirmed to be a piece of your brain matter. Your death was confirmed.

Hope had dragged him along, weary and spitting blood, but losing you…was too much. Shibuya. Nanami, Kugisaki, Todo, you… His mind broke. He could feel the cracks. They fought, Mahito had knocked him unconscious, and dragged him to god knows where, and now he’s here.

And now he was faced with this horrible caricature of you, with too wide eyes and a leering grin that reminded him exactly of who was wearing your face.

Mahito didn't even seem that interested in the sex, too busy staring at the way Yuji reacted. His muscle spasms, the way he would jerk away from his touch or forward when he couldn't help it, the blank look on his face that sometimes twisted into an expression of such utter loathing– Or lust, and then his face would twist with such despair, a broken sob dragged from behind his clenched teeth, wrangled and bloody. Mahito felt the dark glee drip honey sweet through his soul, like the slick that ran down his thighs.

You really were a fun experiment. He knew how much you meant to Yuji, and initially just wanted to use you to damage his soul further. But where was the fun with that? You were something special. Yuji Itadori had plenty of friends and mentors, and killing any random person in front of him would always garner the same effect. But there was only one you. He wanted to understand you, and the exact place you held in Itadori’s life.

What made you special? What made you stand out to the one person, his natural enemy? Humans and their romantic relationships always seemed like a Greek tragedy to Mahito; Of course the person you let know all your weaknesses would be the one to destroy you in the end. Love always gave rise to hatred. It gave rise to a particular brand of hatred that made up Mahito, and if he was anything, he was always curious to know the full substance of his soul. That's where you came in.

“We would talk, and I'd have her tell me all about you–” Mahito drawled. “I had to pry out all the other stuff but she eventually spilled. I wanted to know everything you see,” he punctuates his words by slowly pulling himself off of Yuji's cock, before dropping down with a slap of flesh. He watches in fascination as Yuji’s lower belly flutters.

“We made deals the other half of the time. A few less experiments if she talked, or let me touch her.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you–”

“I got bored eventually, after she told me everything, and I took everything I could... I don't even remember what I did to her in the end."

Mahito wondered, if love gave rise to hatred, would you hate your lover for not rescuing you? Or for being the true target of Mahito's morbid intrigue? He never got his answer, you never voiced any thoughts like that, and strangely, he sensed no hatred at all when you died. Not for Yuji, or even for himself. You were probably too broken.

Mahito shrugged. “Oh well. She’s dead now anyways.” An ugly, violent sound tears through Yuji’s throat, and finally his hands reach out to grab at his–your waist with a bruising grip. He shoots up and doesn't let Mahito move, and Mahito is curious about this reaction, so he waits while Yuji catches his breath.

“You…how can you…just do that to people? She never did–she never did anything wrong–” His head comes to rest on your collarbone, and Mahito watches this all play out with an intense curiosity, and a growing glee.

Yuji continues to break down, tears slipping from his eyes down to the soft flesh of your breast.

“What the fuck did you do to her…why the fuck did you take her…" Mahito sighs, lets the familiar timber of your voice take over, and drags a hand through Yuji’s hair. Not as gentle a touch as he made you demonstrate on him, but Yuji shudders, and burrows further into the mimicry.

“Yuji.” At the sound of our voice, your true voice, Yuji's shoulders shake horribly.

So this is grief? Or despair? Mahito remarks. What's the difference? He watches Yuji as he shatters. Yuji sobs, ugly and loud off the sewer walls when Mahito starts moving again, but his hips thrust shallowly into your slick cunt.

Mahito wondered, had wondered, if love gave rise to hatred, then you just needed to love him, right? If he wanted to understand your place in his enemy's life, your place as his 'lover', than you just had to love him, right? And lovers do things together, they talk about their vulnerabilities, they watch and learn their tics and preferences and dislikes and habits. They stick through the good and bad. And Mahito was….bad.

Yuji continues to sob, but he tilts his head back and starts fucking him back, soft whimpers slipping past his bitten lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry, ah–! Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't there, I let him get to you, fuck I’m sorry I let him hurt you–”

This isn’t even about the sex. But Mahito is a disaster curse–he was born from hate. And hate has flavors. Rage, vindictiveness, envy, glee; he’s all of them. And the hatred rising from Yuji Itadori is so potent and despair riddled that Mahito sighs, and in an act unbidden comes with a choked out gasp.

Its sudden. Mahito hasn't orgasmed once this entire ordeal before, but as soon as he does, Yuji groans, deep and guttural. His head flops back to the hard ground, and immediately his gasps turn shallow and fast before he pulls your hips down and comes in thick, hot ropes.

Is it because Mahito is wearing your face, or did he always hold on this tightly to you? Mahito is sure he’ll see dark purple bruises on your skin when he lets go, and Mahito decides he’ll keep them. He’s never fixed you, after all, so bruises were a common sight. He just wonders how it’ll look as it ‘heals’. Maybe Yuji could give him some pointers on the visual front.

Yuji lays there, and cries. The tears cut clean streaks through the blood and dirt and grime, and Mahito stares, and he stares. His pink hair is flat, and stringy with dried blood.

"Why are you pretending you don't like this?"

"What...?"

he tilts your head. "Its sex. Even if you're not one for carnal pleasure I still look like her. I still feel like her. Don't you love her?"

"No...I--"

"You dont?"

"I do, you're just--! Fuck, get off of me--" Mahito swats his hands away, almost halfheartedly, clicks his tongue.

"If you did 'love her' than wouldn't you stop me already? I read a plot like this in a book once... Shouldn't you kill me for 'defiling her memory' or something? You're enjoying this."

"I'm not--"

"You are."

"I'm--"

"You are. Stop denying it. I'm not going to stop if that's what you're scared of." Mahito chuckles.

“What the fuck…is your problem, what do you want?” Yuji gasps out. His breaths are shallow and his voice is high patched, chest rising up and down, up and down, too fast. He runs his thumb over his collarbone if only to feel the rabbit-fast pulse.

“What do I want...?”

“Why me? Why do you want to break me? ‘Natural enemy?' I don't even know what that means...” Mahito is silent for a moment longer, enjoying the moment, before he leans over. With the use of Idle transfiguration, your mangled face takes up Yuji’s vision, and he feels the breath die in his throat.

“You are my natural enemy Yuji Itadori. But I can't kill you. Physically, that is. So this is the next best thing.”

“You, I–”

“Don't take my words too seriously, I am a curse after all,” Mahito brushes your hair out his face and leers.

“But you seem to think that this is a punishment. This is a reward, Itadori.”

“‘Reward’?” He hiccups.

Mahito nods.

“Without you, I would have never gotten to understand my soul on such an intimate level. I know the essence of my soul because of you.” He leans closer, breath full of mirth and rot.

“And I thought, surely you missed your little girlfriend. And isn't intercourse the most sacred act between two lovers?” Mahito shrugs.

“An experiment for me on whether this would fully break you or not. You can consider it a gift though.”

“You think…you think I want to see her like this?”

“Yes?”

“No!”

“Then would you like to see what's left of her?” Mahito points back to the mouth of the sewer. Tortured, anguish moans rise from there, and Yuji can already guess what was there. Despair grips his heart and rips it out.

“Don't worry, I didn't tranfigure her, actually. I bet I can find the parts of her around somewhere …but only if you ask nicely.” Again, he thrashes, but from battle, or loss, he’s weak.

No, Yuji knows why. He could never raise a hand against that face. Even now, seeing dark purple bruises on a body that even resembles yours makes guilt curl in his chest.

“Get off of me."

“What was that? You're talking so low I can't hear you.”

“Get off of me!” Mahito drawls out a low note, but surprisingly, he does as he’s told. Yuji hisses as he slides off his dick, letting him feel the drag of your walls and how they flutter. It's familiar, and Yuji wants to kill something when he thinks of how this curse must have learnt that from you.

He wants to kill himself when his breath hitches at the feeling.

Mahito gets off, but does not release his hands. The image of an extra pair of hands holding him down creates enough clarity for him to differentiate between the two of you, and Itadori growls under his breath.

Your face smiles down at him, and Itadori tries not to stare back. Just like that, the anger is gone. He’s missed you, after all.

“...You know I'm getting out of here, right?”

“And you’ll try killing me. I know. That's if you don't come back for this, though.” He gestures with a stitched hand the bare curves of your body.

“You’ve killed my puppets, transfigured humans, even the kid ones! Shibuya didn't break you, killing Mister 7:3 didn't break you, or that Gorilla, that hammer woman’s death almost did… but something tells me…”

He slithers up and slots himself against Yuji’s side, and it's an ingrained habit to hold you. He jolts back quickly enough in horror, but Mahito grabs his arms, and keeps them on him.

“Killing me while wearing this face would really shatter you, hm? it's why you didn't stop me when I dragged you here and did what I did. You let me. You let this happen." He shakes his head even before you, fuck, it's done. He denies it, because what else could he do?

Mahito moves to hiss in his ear.

"Is it because of guilt? You're so human, Itadori Yuji.” And his eyes switch to that familiar silver and blue.

“Even if it's self loathing, I can still sense it. That hatred. You’ll come back, and I'll break your soul down some more each time. Little by little…until eventually, one of us kills the other. That's how this is going to go.” He rests your head on his shoulder, listening to the dull drag of his heart. The movement is so familiar that Yuji could cry again, but he holds it back.

“....So that's how it is.”

“Yup. Oh, and I'm still waiting for my thank you.”

“....”

He sits up, and laughs at the way Yuji’s eyes go pinprick small, copying your laughter down to a terrifying degree. Yuji doesn't know how, he’s sure you never laughed in a place like this.

“Hate me all you want, it only makes me stronger. But, even if it's unconventional, I still let you see her, feel her. I want a thank you for that.”

And Yuji must truly be broken because what if I really never see her again? What if I never hear her voice or touch her? This here, horrible as it was, was both knife and balm, like peroxide on an open wound. Cleansing and burning.

“....”

“Well?”

If…he just pretends it was you, if he just watches your mouth and imagines….

He used to thank you after sex in the beginning, before you told him to stop thanking you like you were being paid to sleep with him. Of course, this led to the private joke, where you would demand your payment–anytime, anywhere, and he would smother you in kisses. Fushiguro, Kugisaki and even Gojo-san would roll their eyes or tease or gag, but he loved it. He knew you did too, with how often you used the joke.

“...Thank you.”

Fuck, he misses you.

“Nuh uh uh! Not like that!” Mahito shoots up, hovering your face over his again, noses touching. He switches his eyes back for yours, extra arms gone.

“Thank her. Like you used to. Go on.” He's broken. Yuji is broken.

He reaches a hand and cups the side of your face like he used to. You cant into it like a cat, and a fondness rises in his chest, just to be awashed by despair. He has to clear his throat, and still his voice breaks.

“Th-Thank you...” And because he can't help the fact that it's you, it looks just like you, he pulls you down for a kiss. It's so familiar, down to the way you would tilt your head to the side, and your tongue would swipe over the bottom of his lip. But Mahito bites down, reopening a wound from when he bit his tongue earlier. Blood fills his mouth, but Mahito laps it up. His tongue pokes at the hole in his cheek.

He pulls away, and his eyes are still yours, warm and loving, red smeared at the corner of your mouth. He smiles your smile. He speaks in your voice. Soft, so soft it kills him.

“You’re welcome, Yuji.”

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otonymous · 2 years

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Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description:

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max. Didn't happen. Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above! That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it. All in all, a good time was had. I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero. Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow! Ouch! Stop! Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working. Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place. He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall. Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath. “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole. Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it. Clearly, I was wrong. Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you. I get it. But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?! I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax. I’m moving. Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?”

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up? Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true. Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue. Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison. Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver.

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.

You weren’t going to think about that. And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast. Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay? Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something. The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of). And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation. So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence? The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night. It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge. What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do. Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, he says:

“This is dangerous. Your suit is compromised. We need to fix this. Immediately.”

Different. Darker. Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room. The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true?

Was it really too good to be true? And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you. Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs. You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties. But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist. Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There. Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it. The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much. But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?”

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that. But it’s not good enough. I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There. Spread your legs. Wider. Yes, like that. Try moving now.”

It was insanity.

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall. You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit. And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working. I think I need a push. A thrust from behind.“

There. The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this? I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural. You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream. But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet. It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business. But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck. Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there. Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall. In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give. Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed? Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement. You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes. You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines. For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson? What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth. “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing. And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation. Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips. You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now. Not a peep, understood? Or else it’ll be an F for you. And I know you don’t like to fail. Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet? Yes, that’s what I thought. Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible. You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood. “God, I could fuck you all night. All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty. Apparently, sex was no exception. It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right. It felt incredible. Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you. Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you.

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!! Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end! Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

Text

The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and Keith swishes the wine in his glass and lets it. He doesn’t count the minutes but he feels the stretch. He waits and listens until the rings seem to thin out, until they sound muddled and far away, until they finally pause, until there is a click in place if the incessant bells, until there is a break in the pattern that narrows Keith’s attention back to the sound.

“…Hello?” A pause, a beat, a moment. “Hi? Hello?”

Keith doesn’t answer. He knows this sound, this sequence of sentences, more intimately than anything else in the world. He hears this in his sleep.

He takes another sip of his wine, swallowing slowly, and for the first time he feels it go all the way down, imagines the way it splashes into his stomach to join the rest of the bottle, swishing and gurgling like a water skin.

“Can you hear me? Hello?” There’s a peculiar quality to voicemail Lance’s voice; a strain, almost, the feeling of holding back. Keith counts the seconds, one finger at a time.

Exactly four and a half seconds later, right in cue, is breathless laughter; muffled, as if Lance has attempted to hold the phone away from him. It doesn’t work very well, and the sound of his wheezy giggling takes up all the air in Keith’s lungs.

“Gotcha!” voicemail Lance crows, gleeful and corny and clear. “This is my voicemail. I’m terrible at checking it, honestly, so just call later, okay?”

Keith had not dialled Lance’s number with a plan. There was no goal in mind. There was nothing in his mind, actually; his fingers had worked without his explicit permission and by the time he caught up with them he was too far gone to stop.

But now he downs the last of his wine in one go, hoping to wash down the massive lump in his throat, and tosses the phone carelessly somewhere beside him. He hears it bounce and breathes for a moment before speaking.

“You know what your goddamn problem is, McClain?” he says, and his voice is slurred slightly and drawling like it does when he’s drunk but he’s not drunk so he doesn’t care. He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, because there won’t be one. “You are too fucking endearing.”

Now he waits, although there’s no point in it. That or he runs out of steam.

His next words are softer, dulled.

“You are so convinced you’re annoying,” he sighs. Nothing he says is at all legible. “You delight in it, actually. Nothing makes you grin harder than when you’re sure you’re pissing somebody off.”

Without thinking Keith smiles, too, at the thought of it. He realises then that it’s hard, that his chin trembles too much to curve his lips right. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and he gags at the salty bitterness of it.

“But you’re just…you’re so goddamn bad at it.” It’s mean and he knows it is and he lets the sentiment draw out and linger. “You do stupid shit like pretend your voicemail isn’t a voicemail and no one is ever mad. Never. They can groan and roll their eyes all the goddamn want and it don’t mean a damn thing, McClain, you fucker, because you wrap your fingers ‘round peoples’ hearts and grip and squeeze and stay put like the fuckin’ parasite you are. No one hates your voicemail. Nobody.”

His voice cracks on the final syllable and he refuses to let himself cry but something escapes his throat anyway, a garbled mess if a sound, the sound a bullfrog makes as a heron shoves it down his throat. A bitter resignation kind of sound, a giving up kind of sound. Vaguely Keith registers the sound of a thump and a cracking pain in his skull. When he opens his eyes again he’s staring at the ceiling.

“Look at me,” he says, and his voice is hoarse and torn and rough as desert sand. “Look at what I fuckin’ do to myself. Can’t even blame you right, McClain, ‘cause it would be a goddamn lie.”

He registers at this point that there’s no way the voicemail is still recording. Good. He doesn’t care.

“You’re the only phone number I got memorized,” he confesses. “Sometimes I call when I know you won’t answer from a phone that ain’t mine. I got a burner phone, you know. ‘Sposed to be for when I run away but I only use it to call you and hear you pretend to answer.”

The massive lump is back in his throat and the wine makes his eyelids heavy. He doesn’t fight either.

“You have endeared me heart and soul, Lance, and I will never forgive you for it.”

His voice tapers off ‘til there’s no sound left to it.

“‘M sorry.”

The last thing he registers is a click, and the grating sound of a phone being left off the hook.

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hockeylovee12 · 13 days

Text

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Six

Luke Hughes x Original Character

November 18th, 2023

Luke stands in front of the mirror, in his bathroom, his fingers fidgeting with the collar of his crisp white button-down. He's paired it with a nice pair of black jeans, and his white sneakers, hoping to display a balance between dressed up and casual.

He glances at his phone, resting on the bathroom counter, for what feels like the hundredth time In the last hour. He checks the time: 6:47.

He knows he should probably leave by 7,if he wants to get her flowers-which he does-and still pick her up on time.

Luke takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his curls, trying to calm the nerves in his stomach. He's nervous for the date, he's also nervous because he's about to go on a date with Jacob Trouba's sister, a detail he has and will continue to keep hidden, at least until he can figure out what to do about it, but tonight, he just needs need to focus on the date, because all the other stuff, all the other stuff can wait.

He glances at his phone again, seeing only a minute has passed, he sighs wishing time would move faster, then the door to his room opens, and Jack strolls in, flopping down on Luke's bed with no knock, no warning.

"Sure just come on in" Luke sarcastically says.

Jack grins, folding his arms above his head "Aw, don't be like that Lukey. You know you love me."

As Luke walks away from the mirror, he rolls his eyes, but he's unable to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips "Did you need something? Or are you just here to annoy me?"

"Can't it be both?" Jack quips. His eyes land on his brother's outfit, and his grin widens "Big date tonight, huh?"

Luke nods, scanning his bedroom for his cologne. He spots it sitting on his dresser and grabs it, spritzing a little on his neck and wrists.

Jack sits up and looks at the bottle "Isn't that my cologne?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Luke shrugs, putting the bottle down. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law" He remarks as if he's playing a role in Law & Order, "You left it in my room, so now it's mine"

Jack scoffs, but there's no real heat behind it, there can't really be, considering half of his closet is in Luke's and vice versa "Whatever. I'm taking it back, when you leave"

Luke just smirks, knowing it's an empty threat, and turns back to the mirror, to adjust his hair one last time.

Jack watches him for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's the plan for tonight?" He asks, his tone softening

"I'm picking her up and we're going for dinner at uh Velvet & Vine" Luke answers

"Fancy" Jack jokes, before his tone shifts "You really like her?" He asks

Luke nods.

"So you gonna tell me who she is?" He questions, moving from his position on the bed, towards Luke.

Luke scoffs before sarcastically replying "Why? So you can go spill it to the rest of the team?"

A small sigh escapes Jack's lips, as a frown appears "Come on man, I was joking I didn't mean to upset you-I won't"

Luke cuts him off before he can continue, facing his brother "Jacky, I was just kidding, I'm not upset" he tells him.

Jack exhales, his frown disappearing "So who is she?" he asks

"I'm not upset, but I'm still not telling you" He says

"Oh come on man, I promise I won't tell the team" Jack swears, drawing an X over his left pec with his fingers, "Cross my heart"

"I know, dude, but I-I just wanna keep it to myself, it's our first real date and all you know?" Luke replies, hoping Jack doesn't question the slight crack in his voice.

"Ya ya I get it man" Jack assures, watching as Luke searches for his wallet and keys.

"I gotta get going," Luke says, after finding them.

Jack nods, and follows his brother as he walks out the bedroom door, and into the hallway of their shared apartment.

Luke takes one last look in the small mirror, hanging above their entry table, and takes a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Jack comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"You look great man, have fun tonight"

"Thanks Jack." Luke smiles.

Jack grins, giving him a gentle shove towards the door. "And make sure you're back before sunrise, Casanova. We've got practice tomorrow"

Luke rolls his eyes, a smile still present on his lips as he heads out the door.

He makes his way down to the parking garage, his heart pounding with anticipation as he climbs into his car.

Luke settles into his seat before pulling out his phone, and typing in the address of a nearby flower shop.

The drive to the shop is short, and Luke finds himself humming along to the radio, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the beat. He's never been the type to get nervous before dates, but something about Jordan feels different, special, in a way he can't quite put into words yet, he doesn't know if it's the mystery behind it, doing something he wants to do, doing something that he shouldn't be doing, or if it's just her...but he hopes it's just her.

Luke pulls into the parking lot of the shop, he exits the car and makes his way towards the entrance, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully as he steps inside.

The shop is small and cozy, filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

Luke wanders the aisles, feeling a little out of his depth as he takes in the endless array of colors and varieties.

Luke's eyes scan the array of beautiful flowers, but he feels like something is missing.

As he's about to ask the florist for her opinion, a splash of vibrant blue catches his eye. Nestled among the roses, a single stem of forget-me-nots stands out, its delicate petals a striking contrast to the bold red blooms.

Luke reaches out, gently touching the tiny flowers, a smile tugging at his lips. They remind him of Jordan's eyes, of the way they sparkle when she laughs at his jokes or tells him about her day.

"What about these?" he asks, pointing to the forget-me-nots. "Could we add a few of these to the bouquet?"

The florist leans in, examining the flowers with a thoughtful expression. "Forget-me-nots? An unusual choice, but a lovely one. They symbolize true love and memories."

She looks up at Luke, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "She must be a special girl."

Luke feels his cheeks heat up, but he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Ya, ya she is"

The florist nods, a soft smile on her face. "Let's see what we can do."

She carefully selects a dozen of the most perfect red roses, arranging them in a classic bouquet. Then, with a delicate touch, she nestles a few sprigs of forget-me-nots among the blooms, their blue petals peeking out like little secrets.

"What do you think?," she asks, stepping back to admire her work.

Luke takes the flowers, cradling them gently in his arms. The mix of roses and forget-me-nots is striking, a perfect balance of classic romance and personal thoughtfulness.

"It's perfect," he says softly, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thank you."

The florist wraps the bouquet in tissue paper and ties it with a ribbon, handing it to Luke with a warm smile. "You're very welcome, dear. I hope your date goes wonderfully."

Luke pays for the flowers and makes his way back to the car.

He places the bouquet gently on the passenger seat, and glances at the little blue flowers that seem to wink at him from among the roses.

He smiles, before pulling out his phone, and typing out a text to Jordan.

I'm on my way. See you soon :)

*****

Jordan sits at her desk, in her comfy robe, putting the finishing touches on her slicked back ponytail-which took forever-and admiring her makeup, when her phone chimes.

Her heart skips a beat, as the four letters spelling out Luke appear on her screen, with the message I'm on my way. See you soon :)

A smile spreads across her face, and she quickly responds Can't wait :)

Jordan takes a deep breath, and sets her phone down, before walking towards her closet.

She rifles through hangers, pulling out various dresses, tops, and skirts.

She slips on a black mini dress with a straight neckline and spaghetti straps and turns towards the mirror, frowning slightly. It's a classic dress, it's too classic, there's nothing special about it, she's worn it a million times before, and it's just not right.

With a sigh, she tugs off the dress and tosses it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes on her floor.

Next, she pulls out a flowy floral sundress, thinking it might strike the right balance of dressy and casual.

But as she pulls it on and looks at her reflection, she realizes the colors wash her out, and it's too summery for November.

She groans, tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor.

Jordan continues trying on outfit after outfit, each one failing to meet her increasingly high standards. A pair of skinny jeans and a sparkly top seem too casual and too clubby, while a jumpsuit feels too trendy and not quite her style. She even considers a romper, but quickly dismisses it as too childish.

As the minutes tick by, her floor becomes increasingly covered in rejected clothing, and Jordan feels her frustration mounting.

She wants everything to be perfect for her date with Luke, including her outfit, and she knows it's just dinner, but it feels like so much more.

With another groan of exasperation, Jordan flops down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She's just about to give up and resign herself to wearing something mediocre when there's a soft knock at her door.

"Come in," Jordan says, sitting up.

Kelly enters the room, holding a black shopping bag.

"Having some trouble?" Kelly asks, glancing around at the clothes strewn across the room.

Jordan chuckles, "I have nothing to wear,"

"I can see that" she jokes, but her tone is kind and non-judgmental.

"I think I have just the thing" Kelly says, placing the bag on the bed, she pulls out a stunning, black lace dress. It's ankle-length and just a little bit see-through.

Jordan's mouth drops open, her eyes wide with wonder. "Kelly, it's... it's gorgeous."

Kelly grins, holding the dress out to her. "Try it on. I have a feeling it's going to be just right."

With a gleeful smile, Jordan takes the dress and slips into the bathroom to change. As she slides the soft fabric over her skin, she feels a rush of confidence and excitement.

When she emerges, Kelly's face lights up with approval. "Jordan you look gorgeous"

Jordan twirls in front of the mirror, marveling at the way the dress hugs her figure in all the right places. It's elegant and sexy, but still tasteful and comfortable.

Then she rushes over to her sister-in-law, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushes, her voice muffled against Kelly's shoulder. "You are the best sister in the world!"

Kelly laughs, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I know. Just make sure to wear a jacket with it."

Jordan pulls back, raising an eyebrow. "Because it's cold outside?"

Kelly smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. "No, because Jake's not letting you out of the apartment in that dress without one"

Jordan chuckles, rolling her eyes as Kelly slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Jordan stands in front of her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her look. She carefully selects a pair of small gold earrings and inserts them into her first piercings, the delicate metal catching the light as she turns her head. For her second piercings, she chooses a pair of understated fake diamond studs, adding just the right amount of sparkle.

Next, she slips on a gold bangle bracelet, the smooth metal cool against her skin. She rummages through her jewelry box, picking out a few gold rings that complement the bracelet and slides them onto her fingers.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Jordan straps on her short, open-toed black heels, knowing if she chooses anything taller than 3 inches she won't be able to walk to the park, where Luke's picking her up.

Standing up, she takes one last look in the mirror, adjusting the small gold lock pendant engraved with a "J" that rests just below her collarbone.

She reaches for her favorite perfume, a light floral scent with a hint of vanilla, and spritzes it on her wrists and neck, she takes one last look in the mirror, when her phone chimes with an incoming message.

It's from Luke: Almost there

Jordan's heart skips a beat, and she feels a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.

She grabs her favorite oversized leather jacket, and she slips it on, the supple material soft against her bare arms.

With a deep breath, Jordan picks up her phone and purse and takes one last glance around her room, making sure she hasn't forgotten anything. Satisfied, she switches off the light and makes her way into the living room.

As she enters the room, Jacob and Kelly look up from their place on the couch.

"Jords you look gorgeous" Kelly beams "Doesn't she look amazing?" she asks nudging Jacob

"Very grown up" Jacob says

Jordan scoffs "I am a grown up"

"Ehhhh" Jacob teases

"Shut up" Jordan jokes

Jacob sits up a little straighter, his brow furrowing. "So, when do we get to meet this mystery man of yours?" he asks, his tone lightly teasing but with an undercurrent of protectiveness.

Jordan shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her brother's gaze “Someday, but not today."

Jacob looks like he wants to argue, but Kelly places a gentle hand on his arm, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

"So, where are you two going?" she asks instead, changing the subject.

Jordan smiles, feeling a rush of gratitude for her sister-in-law's understanding. "Just dinner, somewhere in Manhattan. Nothing too fancy, but hopefully a nice place to talk and get to know each other better."

Jacob leans back on the couch, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Make sure he knows if he hurts you, I'll sic the entire Rangers team on him."

Jordan forces a laugh, her stomach twisting with a subtle pang of guilt, knowing if Jacob knew the truth, he'd do it anyway.

"I think I can handle myself, Jake," she says, trying to keep her tone light.

She glances at her phone, realizing that she needs to leave if she's going to make it to the park on time. "Alright, I should get going. Don't wait up, okay?"

She gives Jacob and Kelly each a quick hug before heading out the door, her heart pounding with anticipation.

The ride down to the lobby seems to take forever, but finally, the doors slide open and Jordan steps out into the cool evening air.

She walks quickly, her heels tapping out a steady rhythm on the sidewalk as she makes her way towards the park.

*****

Luke sits in his car, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel as he waits for Jordan to arrive. His heart skips a beat when he sees her walking towards him, looking absolutely stunning in her black lace dress and leather jacket. A smile spreads across his face as he gets out of the car, holding the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots behind his back.

"Wow, Jordan, you look... incredible," he breathes, his eyes taking in every inch of her.

Jordan blushes, a shy smile on her lips. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Luke reveals the flowers from behind his back, holding them out to her. "These are for you."

Jordan's eyes widen as she takes the bouquet, her fingers gently brushing against the delicate petals. "Luke, they're gorgeous. Forget me nots are my favorite. How'd you know?"

Luke grins, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest. "Just a lucky guess."

He opens the car door for her, waiting until she's settled before closing it gently and making his way to the driver's side. As he slides behind the wheel, he glances over at Jordan, his heart full.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice soft.

Jordan nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Definitely."

As Luke pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, they fall into easy conversation, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. The city lights fade behind them as they make their way to the restaurant, a cozy place nestled just outside the city.

When they arrive, Luke hurries to open Jordan's door, offering her his hand as she steps out of the car. She takes it, her skin warm against his, and together they make their way inside.

The restaurant is every bit as romantic as Luke had hoped, with soft lighting, crisp white tablecloths, and low music. The hostess greets them with a smile, her eyes flickering to the reservation book.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

Luke nods, his hand finding Jordan's. "Yes, under Hughes."

The hostess nods, grabbing two menus and leading them to a secluded booth in the corner. "Right this way."

As they slide into the plush seats, Luke can't take his eyes off Jordan. She's even more beautiful in the candlelight, her skin glowing and her eyes shining.

They open their menus, perusing the options and chatting about their favorite dishes. When the waiter arrives to take their order, Luke goes for the lobster, while Jordan opts for the pasta with grilled shrimp.

As they wait for their food, they start talking, their earlier nerves melting away.

"So, tell me something about you that most people don't know," Luke says, leaning forward with a grin.

Jordan thinks for a moment, then laughs. "Okay, well... when I was little, I was convinced I could talk to animals. I used to have full-on conversations with my stuffed animals, and I was sure they were talking back."

Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "That's adorable. I can just picture little Jordan, chatting away with her teddy bear."

"Oh, it wasn't just teddy bears," Jordan says, her eyes sparkling. "I had full-on debates with my brother's action figures. I was convinced that G.I. Joe was a pacifist at heart."

Luke laughs, his eyes gleaming "That's hilarious"

"So what about you, what don't people know?" Jordan asks

Luke hesitates, thinking, before a smile crosses his face "When I was younger I had an imaginary friend" He starts

Jordan giggles, "Really?"

"Yep, he was a whale, named Captain we use to talk about hockey, and play board games" Luke explains

"Captain?" Jordan teases

"Hey I was 5, and never been very creative" Luke jokes

They dissolve into laughter, the sound mingling with the soft music playing in the background.

They're conversation continues, exchanging funny childhood stories, and they get so lost in one another, they barely notice when the waiter returns, setting their meals down in front of them.

"Lobster for the gentleman, and pasta with shrimp for the lady," he says with a smile. "Enjoy."

They both thank him, before unfolding their napkins and placing them on their laps.

As they eat, they trade stories back and forth, learning more about each other with every passing minute. Jordan tells him about growing up with Jacob, about the pranks they used to pull on each other.

"One time, when he was about 15, he decided he wanted to dye his hair blond," she says, grinning at the memory. "But he didn't want to tell our parents, so he tried to do it himself in the bathroom sink. It was a disaster - his hair turned out this weird orangey-yellow color, and it was so fried from the bleach that it felt like straw."

Luke nearly chokes on his lobster, he's laughing so hard. "I can't see Jacob Trouba doing that," he manages, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Oh, believe me, he did," Jordan chuckles. "And he had to go to school like that for a week before he could get it fixed. The guys on his team called him 'Cheeto Head' for months."

As their laughter fades, Luke feels a sudden surge of affection for the girl sitting across from him. Without thinking, he reaches across the table, taking her hand in his.

"Jordan," he says softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I really like you. Like, really, really like you."

Jordan's smile is soft, her eyes shining in the candlelight. "I really like you too, Luke."

Luke's heart soars, but a flicker of uncertainty crosses his face. "What are we going to do about... everything else? Your brother, my team... it's not going to be easy."

Jordan sighs, but she doesn't pull her hand away. "I know it won't be easy. But Luke, I don't want to let other people's opinions dictate my life. I like you, and you like me, and as cliché as it sounds, I think that's enough."

Luke nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I feel the same way. But do you think we should tell them? About us?"

Jordan thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "Not yet. I say, for now, we just enjoy this - enjoy being together, without any outside pressure. We can tell them eventually, but right now, I just want to spend time with you."

"I want that too," Luke says softly

They finish their meal, the conversation flowing easily once more. When the check comes, Luke insists on paying, waving away Jordan's protests with a grin.

They step out into the crisp night air, their hands intertwined. They walk for a bit, enjoying the quiet of the countryside, until they stumble upon a little ice cream shop.

"Ice cream? In this weather?" Luke laughs, but she's already tugging him towards the door.

They order their flavors - rocky road for Luke, strawberry for Jordan - and settle onto a bench outside, huddled close together for warmth.

"This is crazy," Luke chuckles, taking a lick of his cone. "It's like 40 degrees out here."

"Hey, there's never a bad time for ice cream," Jordan argues, grinning.

They finish their treats, laughing and talking, their free hands clasped tightly together. When they finally make their way back to Luke's car, he walks her to the passenger side, his heart pounding in his chest.

Just as he's about to open the door for her, Jordan turns to face him, her eyes locking with his. The air between them is charged, electric, and before either of them can think too hard about it, they're kissing.

It's soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, Luke's hands coming up to cradle Jordan's face as her arms wind around his neck. They pour everything they're feeling into the kiss - all the affection, the longing, the hope for what's to come.

When they finally break apart, they're both breathless, their cheeks flushed and their eyes shining.

"Wow," Jordan whispers, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Ya" Luke agrees, pressing one more quick kiss to her lips before opening the car door for her.

As they drive back towards the city, their hands clasped over the center console, Luke feels a sense of peace settle over him.

*****

Jordan and Luke sit in his car, in the parking lot of the park. The engine is off, but neither of them makes a move to leave, both reluctant to let the night end.

Jordan turns to Luke, a soft smile on her face. "I had a really great time tonight, Luke."

Luke reaches over, taking her hand in his. "Me too, I'm so glad we finally got to do this."

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, their fingers intertwined, before Jordan's phone buzzes, she can see her brothers contact name, and reluctantly pulls away, "I should probably get going"

"Ya, ya me too, I got practice in the morning" Luke sighs "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at your apartment? It's a little late" Luke asks

"Ya I'm sure, Jacob's probably still up" Jordan says

Luke nods, "Fair enough, just be safe okay"

Jordan nods, a warm feeling spreading through her chest at his concern. "Of course. And Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Text me when you get home, okay?"

Luke smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I will. I promise."

With one last squeeze of his hand, Jordan steps out of the car, the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots clutched tightly in her hand. She makes her way across the park, down the street, and into her apartment building.

When she opens the door to her apartment, she's unsurprised to find Jacob and Kelly still awake, cuddled up on the couch watching TV. They both look up as she enters, muting the television.

"Hey, Jords," Jacob greets her, a teasing smile on his face. "How was the date?"

Jordan can't help the grin that spreads across her face. "It was great, actually. Really great."

Kelly's eyes land on the flowers in Jordan's hand, and she lets out a little squeal of excitement. "Oh my gosh, he brought you flowers? What a gentleman!"

Jordan blushes, looking down at the bouquet. "Yeah, he really is. It was such a sweet gesture."

Kelly stands up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. "Let me get a vase for those."

Jordan follows her, setting her phone and the flowers down on the counter. Jacob trails behind them.

"So, when do we get to meet this Prince Charming of yours?" he asks, leaning against the fridge.

Jordan rolls her eyes, but there's no heat behind it. "Slow your roll, Jake. It was just one date."

"One date that apparently went really well," he counters, raising an eyebrow. "I'm just saying, as your big brother, it's my duty to make sure he's good enough for you."

Jordan laughs, shaking her head. "I think I'm old enough to decide that for myself, but I appreciate the concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to change into something a little more comfortable."

She heads off towards her bedroom, leaving her phone on the counter. Just as she disappears down the hall, the device buzzes with an incoming text.

Jacob glances at Kelly, who's busy arranging the flowers in a vase. "It's probably her date"

Kelly shoots him a Look. "Jacob Trouba, don't you dare snoop through your sister's private messages."

But Jacob is already reaching for the phone, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, come on, Kel. It's not snooping if it's left out in the open like this."

Kelly swats at his arm, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're impossible."

Jacob just grins, unlocking Jordan's phone with a swipe of his finger. His eyes scanning the screen. The contact name reads Luke, there's no last name attached, just the single word followed by a heart emoji.

"I had a great time tonight," he reads aloud, his tone softening. "Smiley face."

He sets the phone back down on the counter, a genuine smile on his face. Kelly leans over, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"She seems happy," she murmurs, watching the screen fade to black.

Jacob nods, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "Ya she does."

#luke hughes #nj devils #original story #crossing enemy lines

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hyperfixat · 1 year

Text

~725 word interlude for the yandere lucifer thing i posted a bit ago!!

pt one

Why is he always last to the punch? All sound and sight blurs as his sight zeros in on the red, scabbing mark on the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck. He can’t tell what his brothers are saying, what you are saying it’s static.

Someone’s laid claim on you. Lucifer doesn’t know who, doesn’t care who, because he knows it was one of his brothers’ vile fangs staking you. It should be him, his mark, his teeth tasting you, not them.

Shouldn’t they have at least asked before marking you up. He’s the reason you can stay, he keeps you here, and they ignore his authority.

Breakfast tastes like soot, all he can see is your neck with bite marks that aren’t his. A feral desire stirs inside Lucifer, to claim you as his, to hold you above his siblings. He can share, he can, it’s just that he should be the first in line, your choice, if you had to choose.

Lucifer abruptly dismisses himself, leaving a half eaten plate in his seat, which will be snatched away the second his footsteps are out of earshot of Beelzebub. He mutters some excuse about Lord Diavolo, desperate to keep his cool in front of you. No, you can’t see this vile envy burning through his heart.

Paperwork serves as a lousy distraction. It is bland and repetitive and there is nothing to stop his mind from wandering.

He wonders if you’d let him stake a claim as bold as a bite on you? Would you allow him to draw blood? The thought alone makes his head spin. He can almost taste you already and then quill in his hand snaps.

MC <3

Lucifer: If you would come to my office after class, I have something to discuss with you.

MC: Sure!

MC: i’m not in trouble am i?

Lucifer: No. I simply wish to talk.

MC: (posing demoji, smiling with stars, cheekily posed.)

Good. Satisfaction swirls in Lucifer’s chest and he grabs a new pen and resumes his work.

Time cannot melt away fast enough, and no matter how hard he throws himself into the papers, you possess his mind. He’s nearly insane by the time you gently crack his door open, peeking a single eye into the room to spot him before coming in.

Your uniform is ruffled from a long day at school, and his hands itch to fix it for you, but more importantly. “Which one of my brothers bit you?”

You flush a beautiful pink and suddenly Lucifer finds himself a tiny bit less upset at the situation.

“Mammon.” You shift under his heavy gaze.

“Why did you let him?”

“He asked nicely.”

“I find myself wondering, if I asked nicely, would you let me take a claim on you?”

“Oh,” your heart thumps wonderfully beneath the skin of your neck, his fingers trace up to your face, your jaw. You’re so beautiful when he has you like this.

“Hmm? Will you indulge me, little one? Let me taste you, and mark up your pretty neck?”

Lucifer pecks little kisses along the column of your throat, basking in the stutter of your breath.

“Yes,” you manage.

Lucifer smiles and gives a small love bite to a vein in your neck.

“Thank you, little star.” He practically purrs the words.

“But!” You regain a bit of yourself, less lost to his charm. “You have to ask nicely.”

“Oh?” Lucifer laughs. The laugh when he knows he’s about to do something really cool and sexy. With that he kneels on the floor in front of you, unleashing his wings, horns, and other various demonic changes.

He reached for your hand and places a kiss on your wrist.

“Won’t you allow me the greatest pleasure of claiming you as my own? It would be my deepest honor, little one.” And if he doesn’t absolutely live for the blush that coats your cheeks at that. His long eyelashes shadow his undereye gorgeously.

“Yes,” you stare at him as he pulls himself to his feet. Lucifer makes a show of grinning with his fangs on display, giving you a preview of what he’s about to bite you with. It makes your knees weak. Such a powerful demon using one of his sharpest assets on you in a way you trust him to not bring you lasting harm.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x you #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #yandere obey me #yandere obey me x reader

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bari-the-witch · 1 year

Text

Couples Quiz Night Part 1

Part 2

Heya dear people of the fandom!

I originall wanted to post this as a whole but because my private life is a bitch right now it's going to take a while to finish this. I decided to post the first part now, so you don't have to wait for something to read. Don't worry, I didn't ditch this. I have too much fun writing this!

A few people wanted me to tag them. So, here they are:

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @grtwdsmwhr @lightwoodbanethings @eggrollofchaos01 @gamerdano @miss-hit @photoaesthetic @alexdesappho @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring (with cherries on top ;D) @gay-stranger-things @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona @thepainisspicy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @alienace @ashwinmeird @satan-is-obsessed @ninjapirateunicorns

Hope you enjoy!

And beware: English is not my native language so there might be a few mistakes here and there. Even though I used two different spell checkers/grammar programs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indianapolis, Indiana

July 10, 1987

“Honey, I’m home,” Steve called as he entered the apartment, toeing off his shoes and placing them neatly beside Eddie’s beaten-up sneakers and Robin’s red Converse before slowly making his way to the kitchen.

They had moved to Indianapolis half a year ago, leaving Hawkins behind for good. Between Steve’s shitty parents, Robin’s desire for freedom, and Eddie’s problems with the dear citizens of Hawkins even though his innocence was proven, it wasn’t a particularly difficult decision to make. They were still close enough in case their friends needed help but far enough away to finally heal.

Fortunately, they quickly found a three-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city and were able to afford it with their combined financial forces. Steve was glad he had taken the leap of faith to move here.

His life was a lot better now.

“Welcome back dingus,” Robin greeted him with a mock salute while Eddie just waved. They were both sitting on the kitchen counter together (although they had a small dining table not two feet away), sipping something that looked suspiciously like red wine.

“Already started without me?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you came back home this late,” Robin protested.

“Rob, you literally pressured me into letting you leave earlier so you could get,” Steve eyed the wine glass in her hands, “ready for tonight. I see you’re using your time wisely.”

“It’s totally Eddie’s fault. I swear!”

“Hey! You’re the one who wanted to crack a bottle to get all nice and tipsy before our night out. So you won’t lose your nerves because of Nan-.”

“Shut it, Munson!” Robin grinds out through gritted teeth, a deep blush darkening her cheeks. She smacked a hand over Eddie’s mouth to silence him....only for her to draw it back in disgust immediately. “Eww. Did you just lick my hand? What are you, twelve?”

“Why are you so embarrassed, Bucks? It’s not exactly a secret,” Eddie replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

Robin hung her head in defeat and sighed. “I know. It’s just… every time I meet her, I make a total ass out of myself, you know? I just want to be this cool person that doesn’t start spewing out unnecessary facts no one cares about.”

“With alcohol?” Steve asked amusedly, holding up his hands in defense when she glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Come on, Rob. Nancy likes you. Even your rambling. She thinks it’s endearing.”

“She does?”

Steve nodded. Nancy had told him a few weeks ago when they met up in a small cafe during their lunch break. She also said a few other things about Robin but it wasn’t Steve’s place to tell her that.

“That’s-. I need to get ready. I- Boys, see you later!” she exclaimed dramatically and hopped off the counter, marching straight into her room, and closing the door behind her.

“Well, she sure seems excited now,” Eddie chuckled.

They’re alone in the kitchen right now, and Steve is well aware of that. You see the thing is, moving to the big city and living together with his friends had not only made his life better but also significantly more complicated.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t always found men attractive. However, growing up in the Harrington household had taught him to keep these kinds of thoughts buried deep inside him. His father wasn’t very fond of queer people (an understatement) and would not have liked his son to be one of them (also an understatement). Moving here, living together with Eddie day after day, and finally being free from his father’s clutches had thrown him into the biggest sexuality crisis known to mankind.

At first, it was just mild infatuation that soon grew and spread into a full-blown crush, leaving him scared and confused. But it was OK, really. There wouldn't be anything coming out of it anyway. Steve was positively sure Eddie didn’t even like men that way, let alone him. So all he had to do was wait for this to blow over.

Well, that is, until Eddie decided to tear down Steve’s most effective defense mechanisms by outing himself a few weeks after moving in.

Suddenly, Eddie didn’t seem out of reach anymore, throwing Steve into the next crisis on top of the first. It got so obvious there was something wrong with him that Robin pulled him aside one night when it was just the two of them.

He finally spilled his beans that night. From the fact that he seemed to always have liked men as equally as women (bisexuality, Robin called it), down to his embarrassing all-consuming crush on Eddie.

She listened intently, asking a few questions here and there but otherwise letting him do the talking.

“What makes you think he doesn’t like you that way?” Robin asked earnestly.

“I just know,” Steve answered dejectedly and Robin didn’t press.

“Hey, Steve. You in there?”

Steve snapped out of his thoughts and shifted his attention back to the present. Eddie was standing in front of him, a worried expression on his handsome face.

“Huh? Sorry I- just got lost in my own head.”

“Shit, you really scared me there, man. Didn't we talk about not spacing out at random?" Eddie asked, relief evident in his voice. “For a second, I thought Vecna was back or something.”

“I know, I know, sorry.”

Only now did Steve realize how close they were. And that Eddie was grabbing both of his shoulders, the touch sending a spark of something through his body. The fact that Eddie was a very tactile person, touching Steve whenever he had the opportunity to, didn’t make dealing with his crush any easier.

"I, um," Steve started, trying hard not to stare at Eddie’s lips. “I need to get ready. For later. Shower, yes.” He stumbled over his words like a pre-schooler talking to his crush for the first time. Jesus, get it together. What happened to your famous Harrington charm?

“I mean, I’m gonna head to the shower. Or do you wanna go first?”

“Nah, I already did, so… It’s all yours,” Eddie answered before finally releasing his shoulders, and taking a step back. Steve nearly breathed out in relief.

“Well then, see you later.” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, grabbed the wine glass from the kitchen counter behind him, and made his way to his room. Before he stepped inside, he turned around again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh and Steve? Just take your time. I know how much you like getting all dolled up for me.”

Heat shot to Steve’s cheeks while his heart did a full ballet routine in his chest. But befor he had the chance to react, Eddie disappeared inside and closed the door behind him.

Oh, did he forget to mention that Eddie was a notorious flirt, too?

Steve slammed the bathroom door with more force than necessary. He stripped down angrily and stood under the warm spray of the shower, trying to relax.

Fuck, he used to be good at this. Really good. With girls swooning left and right, just looking at them. He had been King Steve for fucks sake.

But then Eddie appeared and Steve’s famous Harrington charm, which was already in a nosedive anyway, crashed and burned to the ground, shattering into a million useless pieces. Eddie, with his stupid wide-brown doe-eyes, his equally ridiculous dark curly hair, and this fucking dimpled smile that always made Steve tremble and weak in the knees. And don’t forget all the stupid pet names he threw at him like candy, coming up with a new one every week.

Don’t get him wrong. Most of the time he’s glad the King Steve days are over. He just missed it sometimes, being that cocky, self-confident guy, strutting the halls of High School instead of this easily flustered tongue-tied idiot he was now.

Standing in front of the mirror after his shower, Steve had to resist the urge not to style his hair just to teach Eddie a lesson.

He dismissed that thought quickly, though. Not even that would make him leave the house looking like that. He still had some self-respect after all.

Steve stayed holed up in his room until Robin told him it was time to leave. He knew it wasn’t a permanent solution to his problem, not with them living and spending so much time together, but he just needed a break to collect himself.

The next few hours will be exhausting enough.

Going out tonight was all Robin's idea.

Since moving to the big city she had used every opportunity to get out of the house and into every gay bar she could get her hands on. She called it her ‘mandatory gay experience’ and Steve was glad she finally popped out of the shell she had built around herself while living in Hawkins.

And because Steve was such a good friend (the best) he tagged along when she asked him to, week after week. Sometimes just the two of the, sometimes with Eddie and Nancy in tow.

And so it happened that Steve found himself at one of those bars again on a Friday night, pressed against Eddie’s side, while Robin and Nancy sat across from them. The seating arrangement hadn’t exactly been Steve’s decision, but Robin had nearly knocked out his teeth trying to scramble into the booth beside Nancy. This left him with no other choice than to sit beside Eddie.

It was beautiful and terrible at the same time.

This close, Steve could feel Eddie's warmth through the layers of their clothes, leaving a tingling feeling wherever they touched. He tried not to show how much it affected him, but from the smirk, Robin was giving him from across the table, he was failing miserably.

Meanwhile, Eddie didn’t seem affected at all. He was his usual animated self, gesticulating around widely while telling Nancy a story about one of his co-workers who almost burned down the kitchen.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Steve followed the movement of Eddie’s mouth with his eyes. How he licked his lips from time to time or the way he bit his lower lip when trying to keep himself from laughing at his own story.

God, those damn kissable lips…

Stabbing pain shooting through his shin made Steve tear his eyes from Eddie’s mouth immediately.

He glared at Robin, who had a far too innocent expression on her face and only mumbled a soft “You’re staring again dingus” in return, before turning back to the conversation.

Oh shit. Had he been that obvious again?

Fortunately, Eddie didn’t seem to have noticed Steve’s brief staring contest with his lips (or so he hoped), being far too engrossed in telling the girls his funny story.

Thank God.

Later, Robin and Nancy had gone to get them a new round of drinks and from what Steve could see, it would take them a while to get back to the table. As the night progressed the bar had gotten steadily more packed which wasn’t surprising considering it was a Friday night. Steve was glad they had gotten here early.

As the girls returned with fresh drinks in tow and sat down again, Robin slid something into the middle of the table.

“You boys wouldn’t believe me what we’ve found,” she said delightedly, tapping at the small piece of paper with her finger Steve could identify as a flyer now. “Sounds pretty interesting to me.”

Next to her, Nancy nodded approvingly, sipping at her drink.

Eddie snatched it before Steve could take a closer look, tossing it back on the table with a snort a few seconds after.

“Couples Quiz Night, huh? I think I’d rather stab myself than join this, thank you very much.”

“What? Is that too uncool for lil’ ol’ Eddie?” Robin asked challengingly.

“You bet, Bucks. That shit’s only for couples that desperately try to make others jealous by showing how great they are.”

Eddie’s reply started a bickering match about the pros and cons of couples quiz night between him and Robin. Steve just rolled his eyes fondly, glad that the two most important people in his life had become such good friends and got along so well. He didn’t want to imagine a world where those two weren’t part of it at the same time.

Curious, Steve decided to take a look at it and grabbed the flyer off the table. Trying to tune out the agitated chatter of his friends he started to read.

The hand-sized flyer didn’t contain much information besides the name and date of the event written in big bold green letters and something about a prize you could win. Steve remembered doing something like this with his girlfriend Lisa (now an ex-girlfriend, fortunately) back in Hawkins. It ended in a complete and utter disaster because he and Lisa hadn’t even gotten one question right. It wasn’t exactly one of his proudest moments as a boyfriend.

"What?"

Steve flinched at Eddie's ear-splitting screech, immediately scanning the room for any signs of danger, his shoulders sagging in relief when he couldn't find any.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I need them!"

Eddie looked at his friends one by one with big pleading eyes and, to top it off, even jutted out his lower lip. When no one seemed to take the bait right away, because they were all used to Eddie's antics, he fixed his gaze on Steve who still was none the wiser about what brought on Eddie's over the top reaction.

“Stevie?”

Steve quickly averted his eyes. He knew he couldn't say no to Eddie (to whatever he would ask of him) if he kept looking at him like that.

“Wait. That’s actually not a terrible idea,” Nancy said, sipping her drink like the traitor she is. “I mean, this is a gay bar, right? So there shouldn’t be any problems. And you two are so close, I bet you can easily fake it.”

Huh? Fake it?

Robin seemed to have noticed Steve’s confusion because she immediately started to explain. “Eddie wants to take part in the couples quiz night since he found out what the super secret prize is.”

“And … what does this have to do with me?” A sense of dread started to creep up on him.

“He wants you to join him,” Nancy answered matter-of-factly. “It’s a couples quiz after all.”

“But we aren’t a couple?” Steve asked perplexed. “Unless I missed something.”

The thought of him and Eddie being a couple made his insides all gooey and he quickly shoved it away.

“That’s why we’re gonna fake it, sweetheart!” Eddie laughed and threw an arm around, pressing him snuggly into his side.

Wait, what?

“You want me,” Steve pointed a trembling finger to himself and then at Eddie while trying to keep his voice even, “to fake a relationship with you to win a stupid prize at a Couples Quiz Night?”

“Hey, the prize is not stupid. How dare-”

“Yup. That’s exactly what he said.” Nancy answered nonchalantly, before taking a sip from her drink, giving Steve a look from under her lashes he didn’t like one bit.

“Yeah, come on, Steve, don’t be a spoilsport. It'll be fun!” Robin backed her up, of course, with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“Yes, Stevie. Listen to our friends."

“What happened to ‘rather stabbing yourself than joining this?’” Steve asked dryly, a last desperate attempt to wiggle out of this somehow.

“Steve. Steve-o. My best friend. Light of my life, did you not listen to anything the guy said?" Eddie asked sweetly and huffed when Steve only shrugged his shoulders. "It’s fucking tickets for a Metallica concert at Market Square Arena. That shit’s been sold out for weeks! Dude, I’d sell my soul for this if I could. So screw what I said before. I. Want. Those. Tickets.”

Steve felt his resolve start to crumble like a house of cards. He knew how much those tickets meant to Eddie. The guy literally hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks and was totally crushed when he heard it was sold out.

Steve sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

He was absolutely sure that this was going to end in total disaster as it did with Lisa. And then Eddie would be mad at him about not winning those tickets, about him not being able to answer some stupid questions in a stupid quiz and -

- and then he made the mistake of looking into Eddie's pleading eyes.

Shit.

Rookie mistake.

Steve sighed, getting ready to succumb to his inevitable fate.

“Fine. But if we’re doing this, you owe me, Munson. Big time.”

“Oh my god, thank you! You’re absolutely the best! You won't regret it. Promise!” Eddie clapped his hands together a few times with barely concealed glee, bouncing on his seat like a maniac. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that he regretted it the moment he agreed to do it.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t cream your-. Hey, what are you doing?”

Eddie nearly shoved him off the booth and Steve quickly stood up to prevent himself from planting his face on the floor.

"What the hell, Munson?"

"Come on, come on. There are two Metallica tickets with our names on them, I heard.”

“I don’t think-.”

“Less talking, more walking, Stevie,” Eddie tutted, grabbind Steve around the wrist and dragging Steve mercilessly behind him without waiting for a response.

Glancing at the girls for help, Steve was only met with a thumbs up from Nancy and an overdramatic smooching gesture from Robin.

Screw Nancy's guns. He was so going to strangle them after this was over.

Eddie made it through the crowd with relative ease, slipping smoothly between the bodies on his way over to the bar while Steve bumped into people left and right, receiving tons of dirty looks in return. He didn't even have time to apologize, not with Eddie dragging him behind him like this.

At the bar, Eddie squeezed himself between two scrawny-looking guys, eagerly waving the bartender over. With Eddie's hand still clasped around his wrist, Steve didn't have much choice than to stand way too close behind him.

“Yeah? What can I get ya?”

“Hey, we heard about a quiz tonight and really wanted to join. Because I somehow can’t convince this knucklehead," Eddie turned back to him and had the fucking audacity to wink, then turned tack to the baarkeeper. "that we’re made for each other.” He put a hand on his heart, sighing deeply like he was carrying the whole world on his shoulders. “Maybe that’ll finally make him see it. You know?”

God, Eddie really was a theater kid, huh?

No way in hell someone would buy this little performance. Not when Eddie was laying it on this thick. Not in a million years.

But to Steve’s horror, the guy took a pen and a piece of paper from somewhere and shoved it over the counter. “Relationships are tough, man,” he nodded with a sigh, a look of pity in his eyes. Steve wondered if the guy was either a newbie or simply not good at reading people.

“Just write down your names here. We’re starting in ten minutes. So you better be ready.”

Then he left them alone to tend to some other customers demanding his attention.

“Ten minutes?” Steve hissed into Eddie’s ear from behind, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach running amok. “How should we come up with matching answers in ten minutes?”

Unimpressed by Steve’s tiny little freak-out, Eddie scribbled down their names in his neat handwriting before turning around. Their faces were barely a hair's breadth away and if Steve wanted to he just could lean forward and - no. Nope. Bad idea.

“Relax,” Eddie said, his breath caressing Steve’s lips, nearly driving him insane. “We don’t even know what they’re going to ask so I guess we just have to trust in the power of our relationship.”

“Which doesn’t exist," Steve replied dryly, proud of how even his voice sounded. "Listen, it’s always the same shit, like favorite color, favorite food, who kissed the other first yadda yadda yadda. So we need to-.”

“Wait wait wait. You did something like this before?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, his mouth twisting into a grin. “Stevie, you absolute romantic! You really know how to make a girl feel special,” he giggled, twisting a curl around his finger like a girl in those corny teenage movies Robin always made them watch as punishment for whatever.

“Yeah, I bet Lisa would disagree with you on that,” Steve grimaced, shuddering at the memory. “Whatever. Do you wanna go over some possible questions or not?”

Eddie tapped a finger against his lips, weighing his head left and right a few times like he was thinking really hard about his answer.

But then he leaned forward, bridging the gap between them and pressing his lips against Steve’s cheek. Just a short peck.

Steve's eyes widened in shock.

“I don’t think we’re going to need that, sweetheart,” he whispered softly before drawing back again. Which isn’t very far because they’re still unbelievably close, their noses almost touching. "Just trust in us, ok?"

Steve, whose brain had shut down the moment Eddie’s lips touched his face, nodded dumbly, his mouth open. Eddie’s smile grew and he took Steve’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers before pulling him toward the stage.

#steddie fanfic #steddie fandom #steddie

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s0lam33y · 5 months

Text

interlinked

What’s it like to hold the hand of someone you love?

Sometimes I wonder if people in the palace think we’re just friends. We could be mistaken as such since all we do is crack jokes in the lab. Good friends crack jokes. But then again good friends don’t kiss each other’s cheek or rub each other's waist so there’s that.

“You think the palace knows about us?” I question as my hand rubs against the shaved hair along Shuri’s nape. I expect her to freeze but instead, her lips continue to trail along my abs and she secures an arm below my back.

“You think we act like it’s a secret, my love?” She asks like the smartass she is but I let it slide because of the name she calls me. She kisses my side and I feel her lips right above my ribcage.

“No, we haven’t said anything, do you not need to make an announcement to the council or something?” I wonder. I’d think that the council would like to keep track of her affairs.

She lets out a breath before speaking.

“No, the council does not dare to question me on who I lay with unless I choose to marry, would you prefer if I let it be known that we are together?”

If she had it her way, she’d yell it from the rooftops. I’d rather not draw attention to myself.

“No, it’s fine.” I sigh. I have so many questions that I want to ask. Am I someone she’d marry? We haven’t been together for long enough for me to even ask but I know her.

Her free hand rubs up and down the side of my thighs, her fingers gripping at the skin there before she looks up with dark brown eyes but with pupils larger than plates.

“I can tell you’re thinking, what is it?” She questions. We’re both young still, I just turned 22 and finally made a solid career in being Ironheart. But I still ain’t help but wonder if she wants a marriage. I’ve never spent time thinking about it, not until her really.

I’ve never been keen on the whole idea of it. Marriage seems so suffocating to me like everything good in a relationship ends after the knot has been tied.

“The whole marriage thing would you do it?” I blurt.

Her nose scrunches as she thinks.

“Yes. However, here marriage is more unique than it is in the states.” She mentions as she pulls my shirt down over the bottom half of my stomach.

“How so?” I ask as she sits up so her back is against the headboard. She gathers me in her arms so I’m straddling her.

“It’s more of a spiritual thing…not just in the palace, we don’t marry simply out of obligation or to aid with royal ties…We don’t marry just because of love either…it plays a role…the spiritual connection you have with someone, the values you share is what makes a marriage, what drives it I think is Your understanding of each other.”

She tells me more. About her parents, how they didn’t speak much and they didn’t need to. She denies the fact that they were always peaceful but they always pushed each other out of their comfort zone for each other’s sake.

“I’m sure that I love you, that was never in question, Rianna. I know you understand me, and I know I understand you as well, but I understand that American ideas of marriage are different. So we don’t need to do anything unless you’re comfortable.” She promises.

My brain goes blank just for a second. And all I can think about is how lucky I am to have her.

“What do you think about it?” She wonders with a squeeze to my waist.

“I don’t know…I’ve never really wanted to get married, I’m not sure why…I don’t want it right now, I don’t know if I’ll want it later.” I admit. Her chest falls and rises all the same. She presses a warm palm to my back beneath my shirt and kisses my forehead.

“Then we won’t discuss it until you want to.”

“Do you want it? Marriage?”

She pauses and then answers.

“Someday, perhaps. But I’m in no rush…You’re the only person I’ll marry, so if you aren’t ready then we aren’t…I don’t mind waiting for you.”

I can’t top that. But I know I’d wait for her too.

“By the way, the palace definitely knows we’re together because I forgot to soundproof the room once.” I can hear the laugh she’s attempting to hold back while she sleeps.

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately yes.”

I think I’d marry her. Not today or tomorrow but someday.

————————-————————-—————————

Two fics in one day? anyway lmk what y’all think. I hope the shuriri girlies are still around 😩

#riri williams #shuri udaku #black panther #shuriri

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comicaurora · 1 year

Note

As someone who’s thinking about creating a webcomic (largely for myself but may potentially make it public), can you provide advice on outlining and panelling? Those are the things I think I’d need some of the most help with other than backgrounds which… I can figure that out myself. Probably.

Good question! I've answered a similar one about paneling in depth here.

Outlining/storyboarding is a different animal, and depends strongly on your personal writing style and how your brain works.

There are a few ways you're "supposed" to write/outline comics, but pretty much all of them start as a script, similar to a screenplay. You note down character dialogue, the panel it takes place in, what the character is doing at the time.

You describe the panel like a shot in a movie - establishing shot, long shot, close up - and contain within that panel the script for what you'll put in the word bubbles. You might also include a thumbnail for what the page layout you're envisioning would look like.

This is because most comics are made by teams of more than one person, and the person who writes the plot/dialogue is not the person who does the layout and sketches - and usually that's not the same person who does the inking, the coloring or the lettering. So each stage of the process needs to be clearly laid out.

This is not how things work for comics made by a single person, and this is also not how my brain works in specific. If I try to write a script first, the characters inevitably end up being incredibly wordy and go off on philosophical tangents, and the dialogue doesn't fit right on the panels. And once I start drawing the actions I've choreographed, half the time I'll only get a few panels in before a character wants to do something unexpected but much more interesting that completely derails all my best-laid plans. None of my scripts ever survived contact with the page.

Fortunately, because I make art digitally, I can do things like "write all the dialogue straight onto the blank page" and then move/edit the text however I want. So the process I've developed that works for me specifically involves me storyboarding out the dialogue and paneling straight on the page rather than starting with a screenplay or script.

That's not to say it goes straight from my brain onto the page. If I'm stuck on a scene I'll usually crack open a little notes file and write out things like "what just happened, what is this character feeling, what do they want to do next" or just spitball possible dialogue options or write out a little mini-timeline of events in linear order. This gives me a guideline to reference when I sit down to storyboard, and it can help me work through a little knot of writer's block. Even then, the dialogue I hash out there isn't going to be as well-paced or as good as what I end up putting on the final page. It's a first draft of a scene - translating it onto the page, it'll play out differently.

This works well for my storytelling approach, which is flexible and character-driven. I like to give myself a lot of options - a toolbox to play with - and that means my outlines are often very loose, and can change a lot before I put them on the page. But this is a strategy I developed for myself through trial and error - it's not going to work for everybody.

I recommend you start off by reading a wide array of comics with an eye for how they were laid out and scripted, and test a few methods for yourself to see what works best for you. And also read Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, it's an incredibly valuable crash course!

#asks #art stuff #writing stuff

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seriesxwriting · 1 year

Text

I can’t be without you

W Rafe Cameron💗

Series- outer banks

Summary- you and Rafe are family friends. And secretly in a relationship. But they make him believe he’s not good enough. Can you make him change his mind ;). The power of love can do a lot of things.

Warnings- swearing, kissing, arguing, mentions of sex.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

*knock knock* “rafe? Do you have that paperwork your dad wanted?” Rose called through the door.

“Shit hide” Rafe pushed me off the bed in a hurry and I fell hard onto the shaggy cream carpet below. “your so dead Cameron” I scowled with half a smile before looking around at places to hide. “Where?” I hissed at him while he edged to the door.

“Rafe? Can I come in” rose cracked the door open but Rafe slammed it shut. “Two seconds” he yelled trying not to laugh, pointing at the wardrobe with wide eyes towards me. I bounced up in my shorts and bra and bolted it into rafes walk-in wardrobe. A few second later he opened the door for rose.

“Sorry I was just- changing” Rafe coughed letting her inside and then making his way over to his desk. “What you teenage boys do in your own time- I don’t need to know about” she frowned throwing her hands in the air in defence. “Here’s the paperwork- I filled it all out but there was an error on page thirty three” Rafe flicked through the pages with a stern look.

“What sort of mistake” rose looked confused and surprised that Rafe was taking his work so seriously. “The business stats are wrong here- the gross profit was a lot higher than this I remember ward saying so” “yeah that’s lucky you spotted that… that could have cost us” she raised her eyebrows taking the paper away from rafe.

He didn’t answer the compliment, I watched as he spun the silver ring on his index finger. “I’ll let ward know, hopefully he can sort it out before we have to leave for dinner with the y/l/n’s tomorrow” rose started making her way out of rafes room. “Oh and you will be nice to y/n huh? I’ve noticed she may have a little thing for you” rose swung on the frame of the door.

My ears perked up and red filled my cheeks “oh really” rafe started giggling looking at the floor. “Let her down gently” rose ordered with seriousness. Rafe ran his tongue over his lip will growing a smirk and an ego. “What makes you think I want to let her down” “I’m telling you rafe you let that girl down gently! your not relationship material you’ll just end up hurting her” she warned and with that she slammed the door.

Rafe rolled his eyes and sighed under his breath, I opened the door chewing my lip. “I’m glad we chose to keep this a secret” I told him pushing my hands up his chest. “none of them believe I’m good enough for you, why do you” Rafe questioned with an unsettled look. “Because they don’t know you like I know you” my hands wrapped round the back of his neck.

“Please don’t let them get to you hun, just know that I trust you”. But Rafe just blinked at the floor in deep thought, I’m not even sure he heard what I was saying. “Rafe” I called out drawing his attention to me “I don’t know y/n um- I think I just need some space right now” “o-okay, i can go I’ll call you in the morning” I backed away and went to pickup my top from off the side of his bed.

“I mean- for a while y/n, I need to think and I need to sort myself out- for you” “no Rafe- I don’t want or need you to sort yourself out there’s nothing wrong with you” I raced back over to him while threading my head through my top. “But I need to do it y/n- I can’t be with you if I can’t give you what you deserve” “Rafe please don’t do this please, who cares what they think this isn’t about them it’s about me and you”

“I don’t care about what they think of what they think isn’t true” Rafe started and looked down at me with his ocean eyes, I could see he was in pain though his eyes. “But I care because deep down I know it’s true I’m a bad person I’ve done bad things- hell I do bad things and your innocent y/n”. I’m sure he could now see the salty tears swirling in my eyes now.

“I cant believe in us if you don’t even believe in yourself” I shook my head walking towards the window that I used to sneak in and out. Not anymore and never again. “Y/n please say you’ll give me some time” Rafe begged walking after me “the only thing I can say rafe, is that I should have listened to rose… because you have hurt me” I sniffed sitting on the window steal and looking at the boy one more time.

“And maybe don’t come tomorrow- to my mums birthday dinner” “y/n” Rafe exhaled shaking his brown hair in disagreement. But I pulled myself up onto the ledge and climbed down the wooden ladder fixed to the wall. I could feel Rafe staring at me, watching the whole time. But I didn’t look back.

- the next day -

“Darling will you set the table the Cameron’s are going to be here soon- come on” my mum pestered me pushing slightly as she handed me the silverware and hanker chiefs. “What’s up with you?” Dad asked walking swiftly past me with the Crystal glasses. He started laying them out on the table in order. “I’m just not in the mood for company” I sighed beginning to set the table. “Well it’s your mothers birthday- can you at least pretend to be happy” he told me rather than asked.

The doorbell went off and echoed around the house. “Give me them hun- go get the door like a good girl” my dad snatched the things out of my hand speedily whipping them into place as I made the exit. My hand pulled down on our authentic golden handle and the Cameron’s all stood smiling holding presents and other things. Most of them stood smiling. Rafe stood at the back chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Hey y/n! Lovely to see you again sweetie” rose ran her hands through my ponytail before walking though like she owned the place. Sarah, Wheezie, ward and lastly rafe walked into the house. “You look lovely” Sarah beamed hugging me “as do you girl” I giggled closing the door. As I walked past rafe I whispered “I think I remember telling you not to come” “do you think I wanted to? I tried to get out of it” he hissed coldly.

My heart tugged and I felt my eyes starting to sting again. With that I turned, giving him a cold shoulder and directed myself into the kitchen. “What can i help with, need to keep busy” i exhaled standing next to my dad. “Oh i brought some wine for you y/m/n- rafes holding it, will you fetch it y/n?” rose pointed to the hallway with little attention. My teeth gritted together “tell everyone they can sit down we’re bringing the food out” my dad ordered too.

Sometimes I feel like no one really sees me. Like I’m just there another human to them, a helping hand something to boast about when I get an A star. Rafe was typing on his phone when I entered the hallway. “Where’s the wine? Your mums asked for it” my arms folded protectively around my body but Rafe didn’t even look up he just pointed to a bag on the floor. “Fucking child” I said under my breath when picking it up.

“How? When I talk to you, you don’t listen when I leave you alone I’m still wrong- if anyone’s a child it’s you I never broke up with you and your acting petty” “yeah well, I broke up with you” I told him sourly clasping the wine in my hands and finding rose to give it too. I then went to find the Cameron girls to let them know dinner was being served.

Everyone sat down a few minutes later, me and Sarah sat together to catch up and Rafe was last in so he was given a seat. opposite me. “This is beautiful y/m/n” ward chuckled shoving some beef into his mouth. “I’m sure everyone was really excited to come considering you say that about my mums food every time” I laughed to ward who nodded his head. “Especially rafe, he was first ready, first in the car” he told us. “Shouting we’re going to be late at eveyone” Wheezie added in.

My eyes landed on rafe just in time to see his eye roll. “Didn’t know you were so enthusiastic about coming to my house” I sarcastically turned to him “that was until I remembered how annoying your voice is” rafe didn’t look up at me. Oh game on mother fucker. “Oh! I’m so sorry rafe i forgot to set your place out with children cutlery- it’s never too late there’s some in the kitchen” I pointed, this got his attention.

“Will you both stop it” ward raised his eyebrows in a dangerous tone. This is how me and Rafe usually acted in front of family, until we both realised it was because we both liked each other. Then we carried it on to make sure no one would catch on but… but now we were back to square one. “So um y/n I heard your grades were pretty good this term”

“Yes I believe the key is having no friends or life” Rafe started up again but this time I brushed passed the comment. “Mm they were my best results yet, but let’s not talk about them in front of you know who- I know his grades weren’t all that- if you even call them grades”. Rafe gritted his teeth together with a tiny corner smile like he had something up his sleeve.

“Better to be honest about my grades then lie about how I got them- wouldn’t put it past you to be sleeping with a grown man examiner” my eyes widened with that low blow. “Rafe!” Rose squealed shocked. “I don’t think you have the right to be talking about sex rafe, a little birdy told me you don’t know what your doing” I smiled turning my head but Rafe scowled at me. That was an ego bruise.

“Guys I know you enjoy lobbing- insults at each other but you’ve had your fun now” my dad agreed staring daggers at us. “Seriously what’s gotten into you- this is worse than usual” ward shook his head. “Nothings going on, I just think Rafe is an immature, arsehole who let’s people push him around and doesn’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings AND! Doesn’t let anyone come close to him because he’s too selfish to think about what he’s putting other people through” I said while looking him dead in the eyes.

He didn’t look away from me either. “He can’t be trusted because he has no loyalties to anyone” my eyes filled up watching his jaw clench. “Get up” he told me going to get up himself and strode out the door in a flash. “Go and sort this out y/n” my mum told me softly. “I don’t want to sort it out” I frowned “your lying get up” rafe appeared back in the door frame for a second before I saw him walk up the stairs. “Do I have a choice in the matter at this point” I sat back on the chair shaking my head at the situation.

“No” they all said at the same time, answering my rhetorical question. I did deep down Want to fix us but I didn’t see a realistic outcome where we were both going to be happy. Rafe didn’t want me and I wanted him, it can’t be solved. “Fine but nothing good is going to come out of this” I whispered underneath my breath making my hasty exit. I followed Rafe’s footsteps upstairs taking a good guess that he was in my bedroom. I slowly entered in silence watching rafe analysing my photos stuck on the wall.

“Do you remember this one?” He pointed at the picture in the middle of the board. Of course he was the center piece. “Of course I do, that was the day you got drunk on the beach and told me you loved me- I should have seen the red flag then” “I like this photo” Rafe said touching little me on the left side. His back was still facing me. “If you like it so much you can have it, I’ve been meaning to burn them” “will you give it a rest” Rafe shot around.

I bit my tongue facing the boy now. “I mean what you said down there- that was harsh, especially for you” Rafe started as he walked towards me. “Is that really how you feel” his arms tightened around his chest. “Yes” I said after a second. But my eyes drifted to the floor “some of it i dont know.. I said it all so fast I barely remember what was said” “really? Because I can quote it y/n” Rafe wondered to sit on the side of my bed. “I- don’t know what you want from me Rafe im hurt this is how I act when I’m hurt I’m- im angry I’m heartbroken”

“You don’t think I’m not?” “You instigated the break up your not the victim here” I stormed over nearer to him. “I wanted a break not a break up” “wanted?” I blinked a few times “past tense?” “Look- I’m not trying to be the victim y/n, I just wanted to give you what you deserved” “I don’t care about the details rafe! I don’t care what anyone else thinks- but I can’t trust you now”

“You said I had no loyalties. That stung the most because your one of the two people I’m loyal too- I’d never cheat on you, I’d never put you in danger or let anyone touch you- they’d be fucking sorry” Rafe raised his eye brows on the last part adding in emphasis. “And I’d never intentionally hurt you” he stood up closing the space between us. “I’ve been acting like this because I can’t stand to be around you if we’re not together- i don’t want you to change for me because I like this Rafe” a tear rolly-pollyed down my cheek.

Rafe wiped it off with his thumb “then let’s get back together because I can’t be without you y/n, your my now and my future and I’ve had enough of this fighting it felt too real” “it was real Rafe- but I’ve had enough too I just want us to go back to how we were” “me too because drunk words- are sober thoughts” Rafe threw in there. “W-what?” I questioned and notice him pointing to the picture of him drunk. The night he told me he loved me.

“R- What are you saying” “I’m in love with you and your the only girl I’ve ever wanted and ever will Want, please give me a second chance” “what’s changed? Since last night” “I have. A long time ago, when I first got into a relationship with you- I stayed away from girls, go to less party’s, do way less drugs” rafe explained to me “I believe in us and I believe I’ll do anything to save our relationship- because I realised I can give you everything you deserve- or at least I’ll try” he shrugged scratching the back of his neck.

I smiled quite big, it spread across my face like butter. “I want to give us another shot because I love you too Rafe- and I’m sorry I’m so sorry” I laid against his chest. “Don’t be- It’s all on me being naive” he played with my hair before I pushed my head up to meet his lips once again. I feared so much I’d never to that again, he made my whole body go warm and butterflies flutter in my stomach like I’d just met him. “We should get back” he whispered close to my face.

Rafe kissed my forehead and we were both beaming walking towards the exit hand in hand. “We’re still a secret though? For now right” I wondered up at him “one hundred percent yes” Rafe nodded his head in immediate agreement. “Perfect- your acting skils ready?” I whispered in his ear undoing our hands at the top of the steps.

“Mmh i was born ready for this” rafe whispered with a cheeky wink. “I’ve had enough i dont want to hear anything more from you rafe” I yelled walking down the stairs. “And you called me immature? Shouting and screaming like a five year old” Rafe laughed out loud.

“I take it you didn’t resolve the friendship” my mother turned and faced us. I looked over at Rafe who was silently laughing. “No we didn’t fix no friendship” he told them all sitting at the table in front of me. “We will never be friends again” Rafe shrugged tucking back into his food.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself, knowingly.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

- for more like this🫶

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iraprince · 2 years

Note

hi i just wanted to say im genuinely obsessed with the way you draw thighs + hips + butts + the crotch region in general. thank you for your service and if you have any suggestions or resources id adore them

hi, thank you! i have a lot of fun drawing those bits so i'm glad the fun comes through :)

i can def take a crack at some notes on how i construct stuff, but especially with this general pelvis area i think a lot of how i draw it is very much individual stylization -- so what i'll go over is definitely not any kind of anatomy tutorial or step-by-step or anything like that, and i also wouldn't even really call these notes suggestions on how to draw this stuff. my real suggestion is what it always is, which is to get into anatomy studies/figure drawing first, then decide how you want to stylize starting from that foundational info! also, while i don't usually lean into this a lot in my own style, the musculature of the thighs is a lot more complex than you might expect, so it can be useful to look at more detailed anatomical diagrams in addition to just studying from models. but i hope seeing how i often do it myself is still helpful in some way!

so, for starters, and i mean this totally seriously: a lot of what i get complimented on in my art is stuff i specifically draw with horny intent, lmao. i'm not at all saying you have to be horny to get good but i think you get results from fun + fixation, because when you care a lot about the details and when you care about capturing specific stuff that you're excited about (in any way), that comes through in your drawings. so when ur deciding on how to stylize, pay attention to what little details about ur area of focus are really cute/interesting/appealing to you, and find ways to emphasize that!

honestly part of that means focus on posing as well as whatever you're doing with anatomy/stylization -- i have a thing i affectionately call the "ira neck thrust" that my friends are constantly calling me out for and it's basically just the tits and ass back arch that i'm so fond of. of course u end up noticing how i draw this area when i'm constantly drawing attention to it and making things cheesecake-y specifically to show it off, lol!

beyond that i think the summary of the rest of the notes is just to find ways to lay things out so that it's easy for you to place the shapes and details you want to stylize/emphasize. i like drawing thighs with pronounced upper muscle; i often stylize the lower half of the torso + hips with multiple repeating curves to emphasize that shape. i love hip creases and visual cues on how the thighs are moving, so i usually don't miss an opportunity to draw those in (and to pose/costume in a way that specifically shows it off, again). my anatomy in this area is usually so stylized and unrealistic that, while of course i make a lot of these decisions from a foundation of figure drawing, a ton of the actual impact/final look is just coming from style choices!

(i also only have time to throw together one example, but these things should still generally ring true for bodies of any type/size; "bony" landmarks exist regardless of weight and will show up on larger bodies as areas where tendons + muscle anchor to the bone, which can have a lot of influence on folds + the shapes of body fat, and it's always a good idea to study reference and decide from there how to stylize. "morpho: fat and skin folds" is a great anatomy book for this.)

i feel like this is all i have energy 2 throw together at the moment and it's so specific to how i draw that i'm not sure how helpful it'll be lol but!! maybe i will come back to this another day if i think of anything else. also i guess here is one final summary of why i think this method works for me

#tutorial #not really but i'm just tagging it that so it's with all the similar asks #tutorials

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epicrainbowsheep · 7 months

Text

Sugar you're worth the pain

Agent Whiskey x Reader

You've asked Agent Whiskey to help you put your new furniture together, the instructions seem to get the better of you both.

Warning Smut

I had wayyyy to much fun with this, it was originally meant to be just fluff but I got carried away... The idea for this is inspired by @ezrasbirdie imagine of Carsalesmen Jack Daniels getting frustrated with instructions, I pissed myself laughing reading that post and needed to make it reality. And yes I did laugh while I wrote the paragraphs of Jack loosing his shit, I enjoyed this wayyyy to much 😂

A whiskey glass sat untouched on Agent Whiskey’s desk, his eyes strained from staring at the computer screen with the recent mission reports. He leaned back in his chair as he took a swig from his glass, the amber liquid leaving a burn as it goes down his throat. His eyes closed as he slumps in his chair, pulling his hat down to cover his face, muttering “A small nap won’t hurt”.

About half an hour later he was woken up from his sleep by a knock, “Come in” he said as he stretched his back, immediately regretting napping in his chair as he felt a twang of pain from his neck.

“Agent Whiskey?” The door opened to show his fellow Agent, (Y/N) aka Agent VB. She looked at Jack through her Statesman issue glasses, he looked out of it but smiled as soon as she entered. “Yes (Y/N)?” His knees cracking as he stood up, walking towards his whiskey bottle and poured himself another glass.

“Are you still going to help me assemble my furniture tonight?” She asked as he picked up his glass, “Yes of course I am” smiling as he brought the glass to his lips, he winced as the pain from his neck came back. He walked (Y/N) to the door and leaned against the frame, smiling again masking his pain.

His smile dazzling you too much to not notice, too busy basking in how handsome he looked in his black Stenson and tight formfitting button down shirt. You bite your lip and walked towards your desk, pulling out the desk chair. “Remember that I’m buying dinner as a thank you!” You called back to him, from your desk, “Don’t worry Agent VB I won’t” He winked as he closed his office door.

——————————————————————————————

You double checked the furniture you had in the flat-pack boxes in front of you, “Bookcase, desk, bed frame, the dining table chairs are coming tomorrow” hearing the knock at the door you got up from your crouched position, walking to open the front door to Jack Daniels in all his cowboy glory. He’d managed to changed before he came over, in jeans and a t-shirt, “I made sure to bring my toolbox, wasn’t sure if you had any” he tapped the black tool box in his hands and rests it on the kitchen bench.

“You are correct, in my last place I helped my roommate put some draws together, neither of us had hammers so we used our high heels” You laughed, beckoning him to follow you, “Remind me to get you a hammer then” he chuckled as he followed you into the living room.

“So what are we working with here sugar” Jack took off his hat as he gestured to the multiple flat packs on the ground of your living room. “There is a desk, bookcase and a bed frame” pointing to each box as you list down the furniture items. Jack whistles and shakes his head “You know I’d be easier to actually buy your furniture already built”, he started to open the box labeled ‘bookcase box #1’.

“True but it would be a nightmare to get them up the stairs of my apartment complex” you helped Jack put the contents of the box out on the floor, “Where are the instructions?” You thought out loud.

“Maybe in another box?” Both of you open the other boxes, ending up finding the instructions in the third box, “You’d think they’d be in the first box” Jack opened up the instructions and put his reading glasses on, you couldn’t help but admire how sexy he looked with glasses on, the amount of times you’ve daydreamed about him with nothing but those on as he would lazily thrusted into you-

“Sugar we better get started” Whiskey’s words snapped you back to reality, “Yes Da-Jack” trying not to let him see your red face as you nearly called him Daddy, attempting to sort the rest of the nails and screws apart. After separating all the parts, Jack started reading the instructions, his eyebrows furrow and eyes start to squint in confusion.

“What does the instructions say?” You peek over his shoulder to look at the instructions, “There all just pictures! Where are the words? it’s all arrows and black and white lines?” He scratches his head, you pointed to the section at the top of the instructions, “I think this is where we start and that is what we need to put it together” Grabbing the screws and a wooden plank and not so confidently smiled at him, “We better get started”.

Both you and Jack ‘attempted’ to put the bookcase together, you managed to get the main rectangle base together with one shelf in place, “(Y/N) this doesn’t look right” you both stared at the sorry excuse for a bookcase, it was crooked and had no back.

“I feel like we missed some pieces” you looked from the picture to what you both managed to put together, “But we used everything that came in the boxes” you continued talking, Jack nods in response as he inspects the bookcase, he pokes it with his index finger, it wobbles but stays upright.

“Darlin’ I don’t think this is a bookcase, it doesn’t even have a back!” To prove his point he sticks his arm between the wood, “Any books sitting on this will fall through” he grins as you walk towards him, grabbing one side of the bookcase “Moving it to the wall will fix it, now help me move it” Jack nods as you both pick it up, instructing him where you wanted it.

“Now that’s one down lets conquer this desk!”

————————————————————————

A half assembled desk and variety of tools are sprawled all over the floor, Jack’s trying to figure out how to attach the draws. He’s loosing his mind, he’s been at it for 3 hours now and is at his breaking point. “Please slide in” Jack attempts to slide in the draw and it jams.

“FUCK I GIVE UP! He yells, slamming the draw onto the top of the desk in frustration, the impact collapsing the whole thing. He winces at his neck, the action causing the pain too ebb back. “JACK WHAT THE FUCK” your eyes go wide as you drop the hammer you we’re using, in shock of Jack’s outburst.

“You know ‘what the fuck’ is up, this damn fucking flat pack shit! I can’t even read the instructions even with my glasses” he storms passed you to the bookshelf, “It definitely is in another language, even the linguistic team couldn’t translate this shit!”. You watched him stomp around, you’d never seen Jack like this. Agent Whiskey the ever suave flirty boss, always the southern gentleman, a voice so smooth that’d make anyone (you) instantly orgasm. A flat pack has reduce him to an angry 6 year old having a tantrum.

He goes to lean on the bookshelf “And to top it off this furniture ain’t good quali-“ as his elbow makes contact there is a loud crack, it snaps underneath the sudden weight and collapses, taking him down with it.

There was only silence following a groaning Jack, his neck even worse than before. Jack looking towards you for help, to only be met with a shit eating grin. “What you grinnin’ at” he mutted, that set you off laughing. You tried to walk over but doubled over, rolling on the floor clutching your stomach cackling as you went. You managed to get out a ‘You Jack’ between giggles, grabbing his hand to pull yourselves up.

“You done laughin’ sugar” he said, managing to calm yourself you wiped the tears from your eyes. “For now” you giggled, “I’ve never seen you loose your shit Jack, In all the years I’ve known you, you finally broke your ‘handsome southern gentleman’ ways” air quoting as you spoke, Jack’s mood perked up suddenly at your words.

“You think I’m handsome” you suddenly went quiet, only now realising your slip up, you started to walk backwards as he started to walk towards you. “Cat got your tongue Darlin’” you stood still, his chest nearly touching yours, your cheeks burning red that he finally caught you.

“Yes” you managed to squeak out, “You wanna kiss me?” His voice went deeper, his southern drawl really showing. “Yes Jack” he walked towards you, ripping his glasses off as his left hand went to you hold your neck, back hitting the wall as he kissed you passionately. Your hands wrapping around his back, putting him into you even more, his right hand making it to your waist, squeezing your hips then making its way to rest on your arse.

Tongues intertwined, teeth clashing against each other, all the pent up flirting over the years finally released. He grabbed both of your thighs, lifting you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, and ground into your clothed pussy, both of you coming apart, he moaned loudly as he started to thrust his growing erection into you. “Darlin’ look what your doin’ to me, makin’ me act like a horny teenager hearin’ those moans of yours” he moans again as you start sucking on his neck, “That’s it baby, claim your cowboy” his words spur you on as you start to bite his neck.

He moans even louder and thrusts even harder into you, “I ain’t gonna make it if you keep doin’ that, where’s your bedroom sugar?” You point towards your bedroom, too busy leaving hickeys on his neck. Jack just manages to make it to the bedroom and you both end up falling on the bed, “Sorry Darlin’ not being too graceful today, how ‘bout we loose some layers” he starts to slide your shirt up your torso hinting towards the obvious.

You both start making out again, one by one clothes fell off the side of the bed , leaving you both naked. Jack couldn’t believe how lucky he was, (Y/N) was sprawled out under him, her skin glowing underneath the moonlight, her (S/B) breasts heaving up and down with her breathing. Her lips slightly swollen from the making out, her lips part releasing a moan as he slid his hands to squeeze her breasts, his nose dragging along the valley of her breasts, up her neck, slowly leaving kisses up to her ear.

“What do you want baby” Jack husks into her ear, as his right hand slides down her stomach to her cunt, rubbing his fingers between the folds, making sure to rub her clit. “Finger me please Daddy” you whine out, not ashamed of anything anymore, Jack moans even louder at the nickname.

“Fuck baby” he plunges his finger into your cunt, slowly sliding one in and out, coaxing out more sweet mewls from you. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel good sugar” he slides a second finger into you, he picks up the pace, scissoring his fingers, making sure to hit that sweet spot. “Shit Jack I’m cumming FUCK” you moan out as you see white, grabbing his cheeks you smoosh your face to his, giving a sloppy kiss as he starts to reach for a condom that’s on the floor, making sure to roll the condom onto his thicc cock.

“You ready for Daddy’s dick baby” he growls into your ear. “Yes Daddy please give it to me” you cry out as he slides his cock into you, the walls of your cunt stretching around making you whine, moaning as he bottoms out. “This cowboy is gonna rock your world Darlin’ so hang on” Jack starts pounding into you at a brutal pace, the feeling of his cock going in and out was divine.

“Jaackkk your dick is sooo thicc” you mewl out, his hips rolling in a particular way that makes you cum instantly. Your pussy clenches as you cum, crying out his name, his hips falter “Shit baby you feel so tight, just like I thought you’d be” he groans out as you clench again, another orgasm building. “Such a good girl for be baby, m-makin’ me hard whenever you bend over wearing that skirt to work” he picks up the pace, both of you moaning out as he pounded even harder into you, both chasing your orgasms.

“SHIT BABY!” Jack lets out the loudest moan that you’ve ever heard a man let out, crying out his name in the process as he stills. You could feel his cock pulse as he came into the condom. He pulls out, grabbing your waist as he slumps onto his back, the horniness must have blocked out the pain as his neck twinged again.

“Jack that was amazing” you sighed laying onto his chest, “That it was sugar, can I ask you for some painkillers? My neck has been killin’ me” he felt you smile against his chest. “Been waiting for you to ask me, noticed when you were bending down to pick up the hammer earlier” you slipped out of bed, coming back with some painkillers and a glass of water.

“Thanks darlin’” He kisses you sweetly once you hand them to him, “Jack you ever used a memory foam pillow?” He shook his head “Never thought I’d need one, you swap your pillows around. “Try mine, they really help with bad necks” he laid back down, wiggling his body to get comfortable. He sunk into the bed, sighing in delight “Baby that feels so good, come ‘ere” his arm opens to let you in, snuggling up to his body as he pulled the blankets up.

“Your always lookin’ after me” he mumbles into your hair, before his stomach grumbles. “Shit we never got dinner!” You groaned out, Jack pulls you in closer to kiss the top of your head. “Don’t worry baby we can order some food later, this cowboy is tired” his arm pulling you even closer, “Jack?” You asked head lifting off his chest to look at his face. He opens one eye as he respond “Yeah darlin’”, you kiss his cheek “Thank you for coming tonight, even if you were in pain” he grins to kiss you on the lips gently.

“Sugar you’re worth the pain”

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #kingsman #kingsman fanfic #kingsman golden circle #fanfic #pedropascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey smut #Jack Daniels x reader smut

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biblicallyaccurateangeloncrack · 5 months

Text

Genshin and hsr characters as pinned messages (out of context) from discord servers with my friends: a shitpost

(uhhh cw some nsfw jokes and cuss words)

wriothesley: "i do not want an alpha transformation happening rn "

march to danheng: "my coquette lungs are better than your emo lungs"

hu tao: *ghostly voice* "oooooogly boogly why'd you skadoodly me?"

xiao, learning how to spell: "i lvove elmo music"

childe: "he is in my feet"

klee: "yeah my grandma's actually kim kardashian"

bronya to cocolia when she got sick as a kid: "Mother please carry me outside before to see the sky one last time before the consumption takes hold of my body and soul"

hu tao: " "weenis", said eerily"

bennett: "THE SANDWHICH TOOK ME OUT"

blade: "that link is longer than my plans for the future"

serval: "i pledge allegiance to the american bra"

itto: "i am in heat growls the summer has come and i am in heat growls"

zhongli: "*old man voice* when i was your age i fought kids"

stelle/caelus: "when i was my age i eated drywall"

fu xuan: "JING YUAN ILL SNIPPERS YOU UP IF YOU DONT STOP WITH THIS GOOBEROUS SHIT"

diluc, about venti: "i like to prentend he was a fever dream i came with at 4am"

fréminet, trying to speak french: "they said Lyney tu dumbass"

sampo: "I think Luka would beat up Luka while Luka watches. and then Luka would join in and beat the living daylight out of Luka"

silver wolf, about blade: "ppl with lactose intolerance boutta have their 2nd period ongomg"

kayea and rosaria: "we're a match made in the deep dark depths of the abyssal caves in fuck knows where"

jingliu: "am i.........one of those queers........."

yanquing: "shout-out to my home dawg Charles aka history teacher for dropping this wisdom on me"

shinobu: "itto if you say anything penis related you are banned"

ayaka as a kid: ""please take me to the garden so that way i can see the shining sun for the last time before my frail body decomposes with the disease known as ligma""

lyney: "imagine Neuvillette seeing a bunch of orphans blow up infront of him"

yoimiya: "are you really friends if you dont have matching vagina bracelets ??"

wriothesley: "My name is actually marlinus maximilianus Merlin guys"

caelus/stelle: " *bites your toes playfully* "

Pompom: "i eat gender for dinner"

xiao: "is life without endless pain and suffering only for it all to end leaving nothing but emptiness and all your suffering being just for the entertainment of the entity that we call god. an entity who is the real reason as to why we humans end up hurting others, for pain and suffereing is nothing but an endless spiral no matter how hard you try."

kafka, messing with blade: "do you like the gay foot"

yanfei: "YOU CANT LET IT GO LET IT GO YOUR WAY OUT OF A RESTRAINING ORDER"

kokomi: "DEMENTED DOLPHIN"

Furina: "they oui oui'd me"

shenhe: "the cld never bothered me anywa......."

kiara: "agressive meow"

ganyu: "are you a tree cause i wanna eat you"

dainsleif: "while youre kissing you bf or whatever ill be watching in the walls"

venti: "I FART ON PLANES"

scaramouche: "childe I will shave you bald"

itto: "perry plaptypussy"

seele, in response to hook's drawing: "10/10 Einstein could never"

razor, to bennett: "I WILL LICK YOU TO SLEEP"

sucrose, about to collect more bones: "*deranged loud breathing*"

kequing, to half of liyue: "SHUT UP COLOR WHEEL"

cyno: "genderfluid people's favorite song is liquid smooth"

kequing: "the feminine urge to beat up your coworkers with a stick"

dehya: "i piss on biphobes" kaveh: "but what if they have a piss kink..."

albedo: "he looks like a failed science project"

baizhu: "blowjob? nah, blownose"

silver wolf: "story time, honkai star rail made me leave my brother at a gas station and i do not regret SHIT"

blade: "if i end this year without killing myself its a miracle"

columbina: "btw dead bodies take less space if you bury them like theyre standing up"

zhongli: " *cracks back and walks away leaving a trail of dust behind"

@muachiro @geetkk @veimwah @etherific @zohakutenstan

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dovesbeauty · 1 year

Text

How’s this my fault? 2

Toxic!Shuriri x reader

Warnings : LQBTQ+, Poly relationship,Angst, crying, arguing, cheating, Toxic! Shuriri, mentions of weapons

Pt. 1

“I wholeheartedly agree with you….but…” I begin saying to my friend, Akita about her opinion on a new celebrity couple. “But!? No buts! I’m always right.” She says smugly while having an cocky smirk on her face as she brings her straw back up to her lips to drink her wine, “you didn’t even let me finish!” I playfully say arguing back, reaching in and taking the last of our chocolate “I don’t need to, their a Mid couple it’s okay to admit!” She states getting up off the carpet and refilling our snack bucket.

I’ve been staying with her for the entirety of my breakup with Shuri and Riri. it’s been about two weeks and I’m still not feeling myself but I’ve kinda pushed those feelings to the side because if they ever cared for me they wouldn’t have cheated like fucking assholes. “I don’t know..” I say dramatically drawing out the last syllable of the word “I mean, they are kind of cute..it’s just their personalities” i say, making Akita scoff at my opinion “I’m surprised they made it this long together.” The taller girl stated “don’t you think your a little biased since you hate both the artists themselves?” I say looking up at her with a small smile at our bickering “anyways…” she starts, changing the subject “your coming with me to a party.” She finished like I didn’t have a say. I’m sure she wasn’t asking.

I shrug and then begin to get a call, I look down at it ‘no caller ID’ i sigh and pick it up “Hello?” I ask, Shuri and Riri constantly calll me from different phones either fucking someone else to show they can move on or crying, begging for me back. It’s a cycle and I know I should ignore it but I don’t, I don’t know why but I enjoy it. “Hello?” I ask again before I hear a small sob “Babe…” Riri says in a weak voice “Riri?” I ask acting like I didn’t know who the hell has been blowing my fucking phone. “Come home, please…” Riri continued, there was a pause of silence until Shuri spoke up “darling we miss you..” she says quietly. I look up at Akita who already knows what’s going on as she puts a strawberry in her mouth as she scrolls on her phone giving me a glance, “why do you keep calling me?” I ask….

silence.

“So y’all don’t speak English now? Why do you keep calling my phone?” I ask, slightly agitated. I know I enjoy it but I do want to know, what’s the motive? They keep calling so they want something and it can’t be they miss me because then the sex calls wouldn’t make sense. “Baby..can we just please see you..?” Riri begs, “darling, just come home please…” Shuri says, her voice cracking. “Fine. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” I say quickly, hanging up before they can respond. I look up and see Akita staring daggers into my head, “you have to be joking, right?” She says with disbelief in her voice “nope. I’ll be home soon” I say getting up and giving her air kisses on both cheeks before going upstairs to get my purse since I was going to wear what I already had on,

I grab my bag and charger before heading back downstairs and going to the front door where my shoes were. “You’re dead serious?” She asked leaning on the stairs “yep.” I say grabbing my left shoe and putting it on first “well here,” she goes to a drawer and pulls out a taser “your ex is the queen of wakanda AND the black panther, bring this.” I finish putting on my right shoe and get up and take the taser. “One, they wouldn’t hurt me, two regardless if I had this or not, I won’t be doing shit with this to the Dora or Shuri.” I say putting it in my purse, “but to make you shut up and stop stressin, I’ll take it.” I say kissing her cheeks “love you” i say smiling “love you too..” she says with a half smile.

(Time skip: outside the house)

I pull up into the driveway and turn the car off, I get out and walk up the the door, knocking twice. The door opens to reveal Riri who had obviously been crying prior to opening the door, she looks mesmerized as she stares at me in the doorway “can I come in..?” I ask, breaking her out of her trance “of course…” she steps aside and i walk in. The house is exactly the same, scarily the same..my shoes that I left are in the same spot at the door, the couch looks untouched, the paintings I made unmoved, and the tv off. I hear the door close behind me and make my way to the bedroom where I assume Shuri is, I walk up the stairs and proving me correct, there she is, on the edge of the bed staring into space until my presence catches her attention. She looks the same way Riri did as she just stares with bloodshot red eyes, i walk into the room and stay standing as Riri goes and sits next to Shuri “What did you need? Why am I here?” I ask them plainly. Their silent until Shuri speaks up in a raspy voice “we need you…” she says handing her head, “why? Ran out of hoes to fuck?” I respond with a snarky remark. “Please, ma, just…please come home..come back..” Riri says tearing up, seeing my two ex lovers in this state almost made me feel bad and sorry for them.

Almost.

“If you made me come over here just to say the same shit you say in the phone, I think I’ll go..” I say turning around, but in a flash shuri is grabbing my wrist, crying. She falls to her knees and grabs both of my arms, laying her head on my stomach as she cries, begging for me to take them back. Now I feel bad. Shuri as been abandoned one to many times and has no family left, and Riri has bad attachment issues as it is, but I can’t let myself get hurt again, not anymore. I look down at her as she mumbles small ‘please don’t go’s and multiple ‘we love you’s. I don’t need to take them back, but I can’t leave them like this. “Okay..it’s okay, I won’t leave..” I say in a quiet tone, getting on my knees as Shuri wraps her arms around my waist and puts her face in the crack of my neck, sobbing. I don’t even notice Riri comes behind me and holds me, crying and begging as well for me not to leave in the other crack of my neck. I reach behind me and play with Riri’s hair to calm her down and I rub Shuri’s back to calm her too.

Soon they calm their breaths and look up at me with red eyes, sniffing. “Mommas, please…” Riri chokes out holding my forearms and kissing my shoulders softly. “Don’t do it again, and I need more time…” I say softly “also because of the phone calls, get checked for STD’S and AIDS…” I say making them chuckle and giggle softly “no, I’m so deadass.”

So this was part 2 and probably the last part but I can make a mini aftermath if you want, have an amazing weekend everyone! 🫶🏽

TOODLES

#SoundCloud #shuriri x reader #letita x reader #shuri #shuri x reader angst #black panther2 #shuriri x #shuriri #black reader #poc reader #queer poc #lesfic #gxg angst #gxgxg #gxg smut #gxg fluff #part 2 #Spotify

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