#wow that got kinda heavy

[dairyfreenugget]

19

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Probably not the answer expected, but I'm kind of embarrassed/ashamed of making ocs related to canon characters or who are friends with them. I'm cringe culture is dead all the way about liking anything as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, but when I try to make ocs related in any way to canon characters? I get so embarrassed to share them at all. Which is funny because I don't have the same reaction when it comes to my oc x canon anymore.

And I guess like. Sometimes, I feel embarrassed to like/write/draw PV having a good relationship with their parents because I know that's very far removed from not only canon but most fandom's fanon also. Plus, a common no-nuance take on the Internet is that you shouldn't try to write abusers trying to change or an abuse victim rebuilding their relationship with their former abuser, or you're somehow romanticising and excusing abuse? And I get the frustration and worry, since very often it's portrayed as you should just forgive and forget, give them another chance, even if they haven't changed; and sometimes abusers will act like they did change to lure their victim back, so attempting to reconcile can be dangerous. But at the same time, acting like there's just one correct way to portray abuse and a victim's perspective and what they want can feel very alienating and have the same effect as telling somebody forgetting and forgiving is the only way forward. My only hope is that I can do this topic justice the way I write Flower's/Hollow's/PV's relationship with their parents, and I try to avoid depicting forgiveness and building a relationship with your former abuser as the only way to heal by writing the other siblings with different outlooks and wants when it comes to their relationship with their parents. So far, nobody has yet to give me grief for this, thankfully.

#thylacines can talk #asks #faaf au #abuse tw #wow that got kinda heavy

[solradguy]

I found the disc that has the MRI scans from when I exploded my lumbar on it today but I don't have a disc drive so I can't share the body horror

Less terrifying visualization via lobster meat:

#textpost #Wow! It's been 8 years since that happened huh #I herniated two discs in my lumbar in 2016 and my left foot was paralyzed #But through the power of scary needles + electricity + flexing really really hard I got better #My left foot isn't 100% but it's like 95% on a good day and tbh... #I'll take 95% haha I couldn't move or feel my toes At. All. #But it's basically normal now. Kinda nuts to think about #Anyway for the love of all beautiful things on this wonderful earth DO NOT LIFT HEAVY BOXES WITH YOUR BACK YOU WILL REGRET IT #SQUAT AND LIFT IT

[bluejaybytes]

SODA ‼‼‼

#Splatoon #ITS OVER!!!!!! I 5 STARRED TRI-SLOSHER NOUVEAU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #now what. #I'm not changing my main (I really genuinely love everything abt Tri-Nouveau. which i cant say abt my other 5 star weapon- Dapples Nouveau) #but it feels kinda bad knowing im not chipping away at a 5 star anymore </3 #ive got some other weapons i want stars on (I want 4 star Enperries and 4 star Heavy Splatling) but like yeah. wow #i finally 5 starred Tri-Nouveau

[sunrise-on-the-shore]

i remember when i had fun writing. wild times.

#sunrise thoughts #like. wow. #like. i used to love it so much #i would write every day everywhere #i always had something to write about whether it was miserable poetry or drabbles of my blorbos (ocs or fandom related) #it was really fun and uhh.. well now... #i get so frustrated with my word choices and my ideas and the way i write characters and i don't have the energy to even try to write #eh at least i never posted it anywhere so i can't disappoint anyone which is very good #i would feel horrible if i started a fic and like never continued it due to my constantly growing lack of motivation and laziness #i don't think my stuff came from anything good anyway. it was purely a coping mechanism. #and now that i probably lost it well who knows what happens next #i never got into creative hobbies that much anyway i mostly felt heavy frustration over them and some sort of hatred for everything i did #shrugs. #why does my relationship with making art is tied to almost only negative feelings #kinda sad #whatever

[alllgator-blood]

I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)

I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch

Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)

ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:

#cult of the lamb #comic #cotl #cotl bishops #shamura #kallamar #narinder #the one who waits #heket #leshy

[loveinhawkins]

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

#reciprocal hurt/comfort & protectiveness because they notice each other and care so damn much. with a side of banter of course ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[ashwhowrites]

Dustin's babysitter

Eddie x Dustin's babysitter

A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!

Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.

Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.

"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.

Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.

"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.

"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.

"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.

"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.

Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.

Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.

A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.

Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.

"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.

"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.

"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.

~~~

"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.

"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.

"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.

"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.

"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.

"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.

"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.

"Nope!"

"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.

"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.

"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.

~~~

Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.

He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.

"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked

"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.

"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.

"Where's your babysitter?"

"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.

~~~

After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.

Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."

Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.

"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.

"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.

Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.

~

Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.

"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.

"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.

"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"

"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."

"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.

"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.

"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.

She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.

"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.

Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.

His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.

"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!

"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.

She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.

"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.

"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.

"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.

"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.

"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.

"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.

"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.

Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie Munson x babysitter reader #ashwhowrites

[asmosmainhoe]

MC draws the brothers

im kinda shy to ask this but, can u make artist!mc drawing brothers and others and them reacting to it?(*´-`)

- @maiitski

Note: This was incredibly fun to write! I also only did the brothers, because I don't write for more than 7 characters in one post

Gender: neutral

Warnings: heavy language

Lucifer

You often draw him when he's working, because then he's absolutely still for hours

At first he doesn't exactly know what you're doing over there with your notebook. The first guess is some kind of study and you're simply looking for some peace and quiet to focus

Once he's done with the mountain of paperwork he walks over to you and glances over your shoulder

Oh wow. The portrait you drew of him looks fantastic and he nods proudly until he notices some special details

"Why are the spots under my eyes so dark?"

"Well, you've been working for hours now."

"I see..my hair looks so disheveled as well."

"You just really need some rest."

A portrait falls out of your notebook when you leave the room and he quickly hides it in one of his drawers. There is no way he won't treasure your hard work

Mammon

To say that it's difficult to draw a picture of the greedy demon is a complete understatement since he's in constant movements

The only time you catch him truly sitting still is when he's counting money after a long day of casino activities

"Look at what I won, MC! Hey, you're not even listenin'!"

"Sorry, Mammon. I didn't notice that you talked to me."

"What are ya doin' anyways, huh?"

His voice gets caught in his throat and he starts coughing violently. Partly to hide his embarrassment

"It l-looks pretty cool."

Translation: THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING HE HAS EVER SEEN

"I can get rid of it if you want me to."

"Are ya mad?! You can't just destroy a picture of the great Mammon! Give that to me."

Leviathan

By now it's routine for you to chill in his room to watch him play in the evening, but sometimes it does get a bit boring. Especially when he's playing a game that isn't your cup of tea

So you take out your notebook and start drawing whatever comes to your mind. This time it happens to be the envious third born

But you can't satisfy yourself with a normal portrait, no. You decide to draw him as if he's a character from the game he's currently obsessing over and proudly show him your work once you're done

You can watch Levi's soul leave his body in real time once he realizes that out of all the cool things in his room you drew him

"I-I can't believe you drew me! Me! It looks so good too! MC, I've got to have this! Please!"

I can see him roll around the room crying and screaming if you refuse to hand over the drawing

Satan

Once he loses himself in a book he turns into a freaking statue

Of course he has seen your drawings before and he absolutely adores them. There are several cat pictures from you hanging on his walls

But seeing you put his own features onto paper is a whole other thing

You manage to make him blush a little and chuckle in embarrassment as he inspects your work

"You're extremely talented. It almost looks real."

As Satan inspects your portrait an idea comes to his mind and a mischievous grin forms on his lips

"Do you perhaps take requests? I'd love for you to draw me tower over Lucifer. Preferably him cowering on the ground while I step on him."

"You know exactly that he will kill me if I do that."

"Oh, well. It was worth a shot."

Asmodeus

DRAW HIM LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH DEMONS

Please, the moment he notices that you're drawing him he's going to strike poses left and right

"Let me fix the light real quick! Oh, I how do I look? Is my hair sitting correctly? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course it does!"

It's not the first time that someone either draws him or takes a picture of him, but with you it's special

Now you have to show him your entire notebook! He has to know if there are more portraits of him!

And there are. Most of them are him in an absolutely relaxed position and often times when he's not dolled up at all

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten ready!"

"You looked the most beautiful in these moments. I didn't wanna disturb them- are you crying?"

"No! OF COURSE I AM!"

Beelzebub

Please, to him you're the most talented artist he has ever seen! And he doesn't hold back with that thought!

One time you drew food just for fun and he ate the entire paper, because it looked way too good. You have to admit that that's quite the high compliment

And Beel has such beautiful and drawable features so how couldn't you put that on a piece of paper?

"Can I see what you're doing?"

The hungry demon gets to lost in it that he's just silent for a very long time. It gets to a point where you worried that he might not like it

"I can throw it away if you want to."

"No, why? I love it."

He never really realized how good he looks until now

"Can I keep it?"

Belphegor

Our sleeping beauty over here is perfect to draw considering he sleeps so still that one might think he actually died

One time you don't even notice that he woke up from his nap and is wondering what you're so focused on

It's only when he leans over to get a peak inside your notebook. You quickly hide the drawings of him, but it's too late for that now. The damage is done and you brace yourself for his teasing

"Wow, you must really like me."

"Shut up."

"This is some Levi-level simping."

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

You guys wrestle over the notebook for a little while until he grows tired of it and lays down again with a yawn

"Fine. Keep your secrets. Your notebook is probably full with my face anyways."

"No."

"Next thing I will find out is that you have a shrine dedicated to me."

"You're such an ass."

"But a pretty one."

---

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me brothers #obey me luci #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me luci x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

[mingtinysworld]

Misbehaving pups

Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader x Yeosang

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Yeosang has given you and Jongho instructions. You choose to not follow them and end up bearing the consequences

Warnings: MDNI, dom!yeosang, sub!jongho, sub!reader, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, dacryphilia, reader wears collar, reader and Jongho called ‘pup’, hickeys, oral (m! receiving), edging once, blindfold, fingering (f! receiving)

A/n: so fun fact, I actually dreamed about this kinda. In my dream Jongho was on the bed like that and I was kneeling with my head resting on his thighs. I woke up and I was like wow, I have to write this. And jongsang is such an iconic duo, I just had to. Hope you enjoy! Love youuu, please like, comment and reblog. - Jules<3

Networks: @newworldnet

“Can we just be really quick?” You look at Jongho with tears gathering in your eyes, lashes fluttering gently.

“No Y/n, you know we can’t. If he finds out we’ll be in so much trouble.” Jongho looks at you with an equally desperate expression, eyes and mouth saying different things.

“I mean…he doesn’t have to know,” You cock your head innocently, trying to entice him further. “You’re telling me you don’t wanna touch me?” He groans at your pout, wanting to smash his lips against yours, but he remembers the warning.

“Do NOT touch each other until I’m home. Got it?”

You both had nodded absentmindedly then, not realizing just how challenging it would be to refrain from touching one another. You look at the clock and see that it’s only one hour before Yeosang comes home, and the thirst for defiance is running strongly through your veins.

“He didn’t necessarily say anything about touching ourselves, just not each other.” You speak with a confident tone, feeding into the desires of Jongho. He’s torn between wanting to obey his master and giving in to his needs. He gives a slight timid nod and starts to remove his pants.

“Ok fine, but if he catches us, you’re taking responsibility.” He grumbles. You beam at him and take your spot against the floor. You lean back on the wall and look up at where Jongho is laying on the bed, bulge noticeable through his boxers. You long to touch him, but for now you’ll have to settle on touching yourself.

You slide your panties to the side and start circling around on your clit, moving in languid strokes. You hear a groan and force yourself to look up at Jongho, who has taken down his boxers and started touching himself softly. His cock stands tall with arousal, the tip leaking precum. You bite your lip hard and refrain from being too loud, needing to look out for the sound of Yeosang’s arrival.

“Ahh it feels too good.” You let out a pleased whimper, circling even faster. You can feel your wetness seeping out and slide in a finger. You train your eyes on Jongho’s hand going up and down, spreading his wetness around, resulting in a lewd squelching sound. You clench around your finger at the sight and bite your lip, so badly wanting to have him in your mouth.

Jongho grunts as he goes faster, his head thrown back and eyes shut tight. His breathing intensifies and sparks go up his spine. You add a second finger, moaning at the insufficient length of your fingers, needing something longer to reach your sweet spot.

Jongho cries out and his stomach convulses as he comes with thick spurts of cum coating his skin. He lets out a strangled whimper and clutches the sheets firmly. Right at that moment, the door squeaks open and in comes the form of Yeosang.

You squeak as you catch his eyes and remove your fingers at the speed of lightning. Jongho, still in his post orgasm aftershock, is too heavy in a daze to feel alarmed. Yeosang walks in slowly, with deliberate steps, taking in the sight of his puppies misbehaving.

“What’s happening here?” He speaks in a controlled low tone.

You feel your throat close up in panic and stutter pathetically, while Jongho just makes tiny whimpers. Yeosang crouches in front of you and dips a finger under your collar to make you look up at him. Your neck strains with tension but you don’t dare make a sound. You see the fire in his eyes and know you’re in for a long night.

He looks at your wide glossy eyes and tries to keep his gaze away from your plump spit covered lips. He just looks at you for a few moments and your heart beats faster and faster, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“I know you said to not touch each other while you’re gone, but y-you didn’t say anything about touching ourselves.” You explain, with a quiet voice.

“Don’t be a smart ass, you know damn well what’s allowed and what’s not.”

You open your mouth to speak but the look in his eyes tells you not to. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

He lets go of you and scoots to where Jongho is on the bed. Jongho casts his eyes downwards, too embarrassed to look Yeosang in the eyes. He fidgets with his fingers and gives a meek apology.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ve been bad.” He bows his head in shame, and Yeosang can’t help but feel a glimmer of pity for the man. He knows that you’re probably the one who influenced him to be bad, so he decides to go slightly easier on him. Without looking away from him, he addresses you.

“Y/n, come kneel by the bed.” He directs with a commanding tone, no space for an argument present.

You do as he says and crawl to the bed to kneel at his feet. You look up at him and await his next instructions patiently. He stands up to sit on the other side of Jongho, furthest from you.

“Lay your head on his thighs.”

You obey once more and lay your head on him, cheek against his thigh. At this proximity, his cock is right by your face, as if taunting you. If you were to stick your tongue out, you would’ve been able to feel him. Yeosang approves with a hum and turns to the side table to get something out. He fishes through the drawers and emerges with a silk blindfold. He gently wraps the fabric around Jongho and cups his face to caress him.

“You’re still my good boy aren’t you?” He asks in a soothing tone. Jongho’s heart skips a beat and he flushes.

“Yes sir, I am.” He answers earnestly.

Yeosang proceeds to peel his shirt off and he prompts Jongho to take his off as well. Seeing both of their exposed chests fills you with sparks, as if fireworks went off. Desperately needing a release, you whimper, but Yeosang doesn’t even bat an eye. He throws a leg over Jongho and straddles him, your face being mere inches from his butt. You grumble unhappily and Yeosang clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Don’t complain, this is your punishment. Stay still and don’t make a sound. It’s your own doing.”

He crashes his lips against Jongho and kisses him passionately. He holds onto his shoulders and his hips move against his own will. He grinds down onto Jongho’s once again hardening erection, eliciting sweet moans from his mouth. As the two are heavily making out, you can’t help but squirm from being able to hear but not see them. Your thighs are slick with arousal and you’re reminded of your stolen orgasm from earlier.

“Please sir, let me at least look.” You softly cry out, needing something to satiate you.

“Do not speak unless spoken to.” He growls against Jongho’s mouth.

You close your eyes in resignation, but can’t help but feel guilty and needy. You’re sorry for disobeying Yeosang, but you’re also so desperate for an orgasm that you’d do anything. Your eyes fill up with tears and you do your best to hide your impending crying. The tears drop silently for a few moments but soon sobs come accompanied by hiccups.

As soon as Yeosang hears your cries, he stops his movements and moves off of Jongho to face you. You finally get a glimpse of Jongho’s red and bruised lips, made pretty by Yeosang. Yeosang reaches out to stroke your hair, which would usually be a soothing motion, but it makes you cry even harder.

“Aw pup, this is overwhelming isn’t it?” He coos at you and wipes your tears away with his thumb. “Alright, I’ll let you watch.” You whimper in relief and open your tear stained eyes to watch.

He slots his lips against Jongho’s once more, but this time he angles his body in a way so that you have a clear view. Yeosang takes an opportunity to twist Jongho’s nipple. He whines into his mouth and bucks his hips up, right by your face. Yeosang keeps pinching and twisting as Jongho flails around helplessly.

“You’re so shameless. Doing whatever Y/n tells you to do. You know better.”

After a few moments, Yeosang turns to you with an evil grin. He grabs your hair and yanks you up so that your head is no longer laying down. You yelp in pain but say nothing in fear you’ll anger him further.

“I want you to get him so close to the edge but don’t let him cum.”

Your eyes widen at Yeosang. He’s never made you do something like this before. Only he’s ever edged you or Jongho, but never instructed one of you to do it. You nod at him, signaling that you’ll go through with his request. He lets go of your hair and your eyes fall onto the very red tip of Jongho’s cock. Even though he’s already come once, he looks eager to get a second release. One that’s not gonna come easily though.

You latch your lips around the tip and hollow your cheeks. You wish that you could see his beautiful eyes reacting to you, but you can settle for the twitches and jerks in his body. He bucks up, wanting to go deeper in your mouth. Yeosang however will not let him. He holds down Jongho’s hips firmly and Jongho lets out a whine of complaint.

You lick the underside of his shaft, slowly going up. One of your favorite things is to tease Jongho, him never failing to give a pleasing reaction. You sink down completely and he groans unabashedly. You can feel him in the back of your throat and you instinctively try to swallow, resulting in you choking awkwardly. You hold out though, keeping him in there for a few moments.

You come up for air and take in deep breaths before continuing. You go up and down, using your hand for the exposed part. Yeosang looks on as if he’s mesmerized. He can’t believe how much he lucked out by having you two being his.

“P-please, please let me come.” Jongho’s voice sounds so desperate it makes your core throb with need. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he shakes his head slowly, telling you not to let him come.

As much as you want to have your mouth filled with Jongho’s seed, you obey Yeosang and rip away his orgasm. You pop off of him abruptly and immediately Jongho whines like a child. He sniffles and you see the tears falling past the blindfold. You clench around nothing at the sight of him crying, and look to Yeosang for the next instructions.

You two lock eyes and he gives you one approving nod. You take this positive reaction in stride and dive down on Jongho again, this time with a mission to make him come as hard as possible.

“Oh god.” Jongho lets out a broken wail, hands searching to hold on to anything to ground himself. You hollow your cheeks and go deeper and deeper. Jongho can’t hold it anymore and he grabs ahold of your hair, pulling you up and down on him. Gurgling noises are heard and Yeosang can’t help but palm himself through his pants.

You let out a helpless muffled moan as Jongho thrusts his hips upward, chasing his high. You close your teary eyes, not even doing anything at this point, simply taking it all. After a few more shallow thrusts Jongho comes in your mouth, white painting your mouth and throat. The liquid dribbles down your chin and onto his pelvis. Yeosang lifts you up by your collar and you take a deep gasp of air, oxygen filling your lungs. Yeosang takes a finger and scoops up the cum, having a taste of the bittersweet essence.

“Mmm you taste so good.” He closes his eyes, savoring the flavor. Jongho twitches with sensitivity and touches Yeosang to tell him that he wants the blindfold off. Yeosang takes it off and Jongho squints from the harsh light. His eyes are red and wet, and his cheeks are streaked with tears. He takes in your mess of a face and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“God I- you look so- wow.” He stumbles over his words and you can’t help but giggle. “But you didn’t cum yet.” He says with a sad pout. You look over at Yeosang and he pats his thighs.

“Come sit here.”

You get up to lay in between his legs, back against his muscular chest. He spreads your legs apart, legs hooked on top of yours to keep you open. “Jongho, you just lay there and watch.”

Yeosang dips a finger into your cunt and you moan happily, finally getting the touch you’ve been craving. His fingers go into a frantic pace as he draws out happy little whimpers from you. Jongho looks on, completely transfixed. His eyes are glazed over and chest is slowly rising and falling.

“You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you? You’re such a good pup, letting me do whatever. You feel so warm and tight I can’t even imagine what my cock would do to you.” He whispers the lewd words in your ear, sending tingles through your body.

“I want your cock.” You say pathetically.

Yeosang tuts softly and continues his abuse of your pussy. “Not today pup, I know you’re too tired for it.” You think about complaining but think better of it. You’re just grateful to get his pretty, slender fingers in you.

He fingers you with an unrelenting rhythm, not slowing down or giving you any chance to breathe. You can’t help but arch your back against him, but your body resists going any further because of his tight hold on you. He curls his fingers up, hitting a sensitive spot and you cry out. You pant like a dog in heat, every inch of your body twitching.

Yeosang attaches his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking in deep purple marks, humming appreciatively. He loves when you get so responsive, it’s his one of many favorite things about you. As much as you try to hide your noises, it’s no use because the way Yeosang knows your body inside and out is matchless.

His thumbs sneaks to your bundle of nerves and circles frantically, desperate to make you cum. You close your eyes and clench your whole body as you cum intensely, so intense that your ears block out every sound around you, making everything muffled. You can barely breathe, your breaths sounding like wheezes.

“Hi beautiful, there you are.” Yeosang pushes the hair out of your face, revealing your sweaty but stunning features. You whimper in response, too drained to get a single word out. “That was a lot huh.”

He grabs your limp body and lifts you off the bed. As he gets off he makes sure to give Jongho a loving and reassuring kiss, showing him that he appreciates and adores him.

“My most beautiful pups.”

#ateez #mingtinysworld #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #jongho #yeosang #jongsang #kang yeosang smut #choi jongho smut #newworldnet

[bunnylovesani]

Sleeping Beauty

Summary: Your roommate Anakin will go to any lengths necessary to get close to you, even ones you don’t know about.

Content warnings: dead dove do not eat, somnophilia, dubcon/noncon, drugging, violence, oral sex, p in v sex

WC: 3.4k

Work had been wringing you dry lately- so much so that when you’d finally claw your way to bed in the evenings, not even a tornado could rouse you. Your roommate, Anakin Skywalker noticed this- as he noticed everything else. Your mannerisms, your daily schedule, and all your little habits and quirks were committed to memory.

His prolonged glances and lingering touches raised no alarm bells in your mind, putting it down to his affectionate and slightly odd disposition. Sure, he was a little peculiar but your Ani was one of your best friends- always thoughtful, always caring and always there.

On one particularly exhausting evening, you sighed heavily as you traipsed in through the front door of your shared apartment. You always wondered why Anakin had any use for a roommate considering his prestigious job and the doubtless wealth that came along with it- but you just assumed he had a proclivity for modesty.

“Tough day?” He called out as you dropped your bag by the door with a heavy thud and followed the sound of his voice.

“You don’t know the half of it.” You sighed, slumping down onto the kitchen chair as you observed Anakin cooking, dirtied apron clinging to his toned abdomen. “What’s on the menu?”

“Your favourite.” He replied calmly, tipping the pan over slightly to show you a thick steak swimming in herbal butter.

“Wow. That looks- but…I’ve never told you that steak is my favourite.” You furrow your eyebrows and peer up at him in confusion.

“Well of course you have, silly.” He chuckles dismissively.

“No, Ani, I’m sure I haven’t. Have I?” You question, trying to recall a conversation in which you revealed your favourite meal but nothing was coming to mind.

“What have they been doing to you in that office?” He shakes his head and tuts. “Around when we first moved in, you told me how your dad always made steak on special occasions and how you came to associate the meal with good news.”

“I did?” The story is true, though you can’t for the life of you remember saying it.

“How else could I possibly know?” He smiles calmly and you relax. This new workload must really be doing a number on you.

“It’s so nice of you to make dinner but I was kinda thinking of going straight to bed- the exhaustion is killing my appetite. I go to sleep early but I still don’t feel well-rested for some reason…” You ramble on as he puts the sizzling pan to the side and turns to face you, leaning on the kitchen counter with his usually intense glare.

“Why don’t you take a sleeping pill?” He cocks his head to the side and you contemplate his suggestion. “I’ve got some low-dose ones, they’ll knock you right out and you won’t even feel it- I’ll go get them for you.”

“Wait, Ani- I don’t know-“

“They won’t make you drowsy in the morning, I promise.” Before you can object, he’s returned with a shiny tab of small white pills and is pouring you a glass of water.

“Alright, I suppose I’ll do anything to get one good night’s sleep.” You sigh, popping one of the tablets out of their foil casing and swallowing. “They’re the low-dose ones, yeah?”

“That’s what I said.” He smiles, watching you knock back your last sip of water intently.

“Thank you. Oh, but the steak- I feel really bad-“

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ll put it in the fridge, it’ll still be good tomorrow. You just go straight to bed.” He rests his calloused knuckles against the marble worktop, angry veins snaking up his smooth forearms.

“Really? You’re the best, Ani.” You rub his arm gratefully before wading over to your room, yawning.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He whispers once you’re out of earshot.

Just like he said he would, Anakin neatly put your dinner away, scrubbed the stove clean and did the dishes. Upon completion, he glanced at the ticking clock on the kitchen wall before swiping the tab of pills sitting on the counter and stuffing them back into their original packaging. Taking the box out of his pocket, he read the front of the pack: Diazepam- full strength.

Satisfied that enough time had passed, he walked over to your room and pressed his ear against the wooden door, waiting to hear signs you were sound asleep. Once he was happy with your soft snores and hums, he treaded the shaggy carpet and crept in.

You were swaddled in your covers and lying on your back, the teddy bear he bought you for your last birthday tucked lazily under your arm.

He stood there and admired you for a moment, heart warmed at how you cuddled his plushie every night without fail.

Exhaling a shaky breath, he approached the foot of your bed and cautiously peeled off your frilly duvet, leaving you exposed in your pink pyjama shorts and bralette. He’d seen it several times but the sight of your bare skin never failed to drive him wild; his self-control and morals flew out the window as soon as you were together like this- the cloudy stillness and quiet of your placid bedroom insulating you both from the outside world and its restrictions.

He reached out to lift your bralette, raising it just enough for your nipple to pop out and harden in the cool night air. His mouth watered at the sight, wanting so badly to lock his lips around it that his cock grew painfully hard and strained against his trousers.

Tracing his fingers down your hips, he hooked them around your little shorts and pulled on them gently, your cotton panties coming off with them.

He has to cover his mouth with an open palm to stop the groan from slipping out when he sees the glistening wetness nestled between your plush thighs.

“What are you dreaming about, princess?” He mutters as he rubs his thumbs against your inner thighs before carefully spreading them, ensuring your legs are wide open but comfortably supported by the surrounding pillows. He lowers himself so that he’s only a few inches away from your heat, taking in the glorious view before him.

He’d fallen in love the very moment he laid eyes on you- but he instantly got the sinking feeling that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. You saw him at most as a friend, a convenient guy to have around, a perfectly suitable roommate. He was under no illusions that you would ever requite his love- how could you when his feelings were so intense?

Deciding he couldn’t take it any longer, he unzipped his trousers and lowered his boxers, letting his heavy cock spring out and slap against his abdomen. Try as he may, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your lips, which fell into a pretty o shape as you peacefully snoozed. Some dribble gathered in the corner of your mouth and he couldn’t help but kneel and hover above you, staring. He needed to feel your lips on his cock.

Wrapping a hand around his veiny shaft, he pumped it with a couple of rough strokes before resting his blushed tip against your pink lips. The precum oozed out and smeared against your plump bottom lip, moistening it just enough for Anakin to slide his cockhead smoothly past it. He let out a soft moan as your mouth enveloped his throbbing cock, languid wet tongue brushing past it as he slowly glided in and out- the sight of his cock on your lips too much to bear.

Gently pushing his hips forward, he guided the tip to the back of your mouth, the ridged roof sending shivers down his spine. You moaned dreamily, the vibrations from your hums making his cock twitch. When you began to toss and turn, he quickly pulled out and took a step back- the thrill turning him on beyond belief.

Setting his sights on your unfurled legs, he creeps onto the bed and positions himself between them.

“What a pretty little pussy.” He shakes his head in disbelief, knowing he has never before and would never again see anything so beautiful.

Pushing his swollen tip between your folds, he gathers your slick and coats his length in it as he glides along your slit- your thighs involuntarily contracting a little every time he brushes past your clit.

The pained expression on Anakin’s face was apparent- he had never gone this far before. His chest tightened at the thought of violating you in this new way, both out of guilt and excitement. He relieved himself of culpability by assuring himself it was okay- he loved you and was just taking care of you. It’d been a while since you’d been with anyone and your frustration had begun to show- what kind of friend would he be if he let you suffer like that?

Spreading your folds apart with his thumb and forefinger, he gathered a glob of spit and let it dribble from his lips to your entrance before smearing it messily with his cock.

Lining the leaky tip against your opening, he delicately pushes in, stretching you out inch by inch. Even though it feels like torture to deny himself, Anakin sets a meticulously slow pace, paranoia chasing him. His girthy cock plunged into your cunt, bullying it into submission with painfully laboured thrusts.

Anakin bit his lip and scrunched his eyebrows at the sight of your tiny hole being stretched to full capacity, clenching needily around his length. He took this as confirmation that you needed him just as much as he needed you, deluded into believing your desire was apparent with the way your pussy gripped him.

Your breathing sped up and your heart rate rose- your body’s attempt at rousing you- but still, you remained asleep.

Anakin couldn’t believe his luck- he had been dreaming about what it’d be like to be inside you and now that your warmth had finally enveloped him, it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. He often scolded you for how naive you were but it was his favourite thing about you- the trust you felt for him was palpable in the way you gazed at him adoringly. The warm, wet comfort of your heat made him feel electric and he couldn’t help but want more- he wanted to lay hold of everything you had to give. He lifted you by the hips and impaled you onto his cock, forcing it even deeper until you were flush against him, the imprint of his member bulging through your lower stomach.

“Oh, baby…fuck.” He whimpered, barely above a whisper. “I wonder if you could take me this well when you’re awake.”

The room heated up with Anakin’s heavy breathing and your stuffy, sleepy moans. As roughly as he thought he could get away with, he pounded into you little by little, using your pussy like it was his to ruin. Your shared arousal gleamed in the dim moonlight, illuminating how his thick shaft disappeared into you with ease.

He tried not to grip your hips too roughly but with the way your pussy moulded around his cock like it was made for him, he couldn’t help but dig his fingernails into your flesh. The sight enraptured him so much that he didn’t even notice when your pretty eyes fluttered open, widening in shock.

The second your gazes met, he leapt to cover your mouth with his heavy palm.

“Don’t.” He breathed, crazed eyes daring you to scream just to show you what would happen.

You shook your head frantically, eyebrows swooping in distress.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me. Can you do that?” He continued thrusting into you, maintaining eye contact as he sunk his cock into your used-up pussy. You nodded hectically, wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Good, ‘cus I really wouldn’t wanna hurt you, baby.” He whined.

Now that he didn’t have to worry about waking you up, he could take you as roughly as he wanted. Stooping down to your chest, he popped a nipple into his mouth and sucked it forcefully, red marks streaking your breasts as he bit and drooled all over them.

“A-ani…what are you doing?” You cry out in utter disbelief after he releases the hand silencing you to knead your breast.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I jus’ couldn’t hold back anymore.” He moans as he brutally stuffs your pussy, the sound of lewd smacking reverberating around your cosy bedroom. “I couldn’t wait any longer.” He pulls away from your chest, drool hanging off his swollen lips.

“But I’ll make it up to you, baby.” His voice falters as he slams his hips into you sharply. He’s so deep your entire body feels overwhelmingly full.

“Just let me use you.” His husky voice makes you break out into a flurry of goosebumps as you clench frightfully around his girthy cock.

“You understand, right?” He questions but his hand has already snaked its way back up to your mouth. All you can respond with are muffled cries and whimpers, hushed by his thick palm. “I know you do, you’re my good girl.”

You look down to observe the frenzied way in which Anakin shatters his cock into your tiny cunt, wetness dribbling down your thighs and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum.” He growls to himself as beads of sweat roll down his forehead, blonde curls dampened.

“Nmmh!” You squeak, shaking your head in disapproval as best you could with the way he was restraining you.

“Oh yes I am. And you’re gonna love it.” He rolls his hips and sinks into you impossibly deep before pulling all the way out. “Look at that, doll. How are you so wet?” He gestures for you to look down at the way gloopy strands of arousal hang off his throbbing cock, the base soaked with your slick.

You observe with shock, writhing in confusion over how your body had betrayed you. You whine and sob as he slides back in, dragging you impossibly close to him as you claw at the pink sheets.

“Shh…I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he wraps his hands around your jaw, thumbs rubbing against your dampened cheeks comfortingly.

“I’m almost done, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours and you feel lightheaded from the sudden wave of body heat. His hands travel back down to your hips, raising your ass as he fucks up into you with dizzying speed.

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He mutters breathlessly. “I know you want to.”

You try to fight it but your back arches instinctively and your fingers dig into his shoulders as his cock stretches your aching pussy wide. He bottoms into you mercilessly and you feel as though you’re about to slip out of consciousness. With one last thrust, your body explodes into flames and the searingly pleasurable sensation travels to every last one of your nerves.

“That’s it, baby.” He speeds up, chasing his own high. “I knew you’d love my cock. Should’ve let me do this sooner.”

You pant as your heartbeat tries to regulate itself, sprawled and utterly fucked out. Anakin hovers above you, raising your thigh and pressing it against his chest as he ruts into you with feverish intensity. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he comes undone in a loud climax, throwing his head back as he shoots ropes of hot cum into your sore pussy.

Catching his breath, he shoots you a grin as he combs the messy curls out of his face, pulling his cock out and allowing the gloopy mess to run.

“Sorry about this, doll.” He shrugs before reaching for the lamp on your bedside table.

“Wait, Ani-“ You put your arm out but he pins it down by your side before knocking the metal base against your temple, rendering your whole world black.

The blinding light shining out of your bedroom window finally wakes you. You shield yourself from the sunny glare with an arm draped over your eyes, scrunching your face up when the pain radiating from your head suddenly hits you. Glancing over to the alarm clock on your bedside table, your heart almost jumps out of your throat. You were supposed to be at work hours ago yet here you still were, in your pyjamas and cosily tucked in.

You crawl out of bed as you try to piece together the broken fragments of your memory; did you forget to set the alarm? It must’ve been those sleeping pills Anakin gave you- so much for his promise that they wouldn’t make you drowsy. Before you can even reach the door, there’s a knock.

“Hey, you awake?” Anakin pops his head through and gives you a look of concern.

“Just woke up now. Somehow managed to completely sleep through the work day.” You shake your head, confusedly tapping at your bruised temple. “Those pills of yours have given me a killer migraine.”

“What? No, it can’t be from them- I’ve taken them a million times and never had any side effects.” He steps into the room and holds a flat palm up to your forehead. “Oh, honey. You’re burning up.”

“Am I?” You go to feel but he swats your hand away.

“You must have a fever.” He tuts. “Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll get you some painkillers for that poor head of yours?”

“I won’t be accepting any more drugs from you, thank you very much.” You laugh as you let him guide you back under your duvet.

“Completely understandable. My bad, doll.” He chuckles, folding in the edges of the blanket. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Get some rest.” He tries to take a step back but you instinctively grab onto his wrist.

“Wait.” You groan pathetically. “Can you stay with me for a little while?”

“Of course.” He flashes you that beaming smile of his and you’re struck by a sense of familiarity. He treads over to the other side of bed and joins you under the covers, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his chest.

“This is gonna sound strange, but…” Your mind races at a mile-a-minute as you come to grips with the sudden onset of images that have flooded your brain. “I think I might’ve dreamt about you.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrow and smirks. “What was it about?”

You struggle to put the pieces together; all you can see is a hazy vision of Anakin between your legs, bullying his cock into you as you lay there helpless.

“I can’t even say, it’s so messed up.” You shake the thoughts away, a shiver running through you.

“Sounds more like a nightmare, doll.” He tucks an unruly piece of hair behind your ear. “But it wasn’t real. Just a dream.”

“I know. You’d never do anything like that.” You scoff assuredly and he kisses the top of your head. His gentle touch seizes your chest and you have to focus on regulating your breathing. He’d never guess it but you’d had a fervid crush on Anakin for as long as you’d known him.

“You’re safe here with me.” He brings you closer and you snuggle deeper into his chest, subtly inhaling his sweet, musky scent, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Now get some rest, darling.” He strokes your hair comfortingly.

“Mmm…love you, Ani.” You unknowingly slip out in a quiet hum before drifting off to sleep.

Anakin seizes up in shock at your admission, total surprise consuming him. You loved him? He couldn’t stop the wide grin from unfurling across his blissful face nor the way his heart leapt with joy from the two simple words. He hadn’t ever allowed himself to treat this as a possibility- it was an undisputed fact that you were too good for him and he never let himself be deluded into thinking otherwise. The elation he felt in holding you in that moment, knowing you wanted to be held back was beyond words.

But just as quickly as the ecstasy flooded his veins, the solemn realisation of his sins hit him like a hammer. A nauseating sense of guilt and regret crept up on him like a maggot into a rose, casting a dark shadow on any future you could’ve had.

What had he done?

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#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin fanfiction #star wars smut

[cottondo]

vox x reader ; please?

Nobody really understood how it happened— it just did one day.

You ended up really hitting it off with the man of Voxtech himself; and wow lookathat, you’re dating him now.

It wasn’t unusual to be waking up in his bed, either. But what something Vox wasn’t used to, was a sunshine personality like yours. Of course you have your devilish charms still, as thats what drew him into you to begin with. But, the small appreciations you had for just about everything? It was weird, right? For a sinner in hell, it was marked as a rare occurrence to see someone like you.

( Other than the Princess of Hell, though she was much more over the top than you were. )

As your eyes opened, surroundings gaining a much clearer focus, you let out a tired little sigh.

There’s a soft buzzing beside you, where Vox was passed out in a deep sleep. It was such a nice state to see him in. Calm, not stressed out and dealing with everyone’s chaotic bullshit.

Honestly, it was nice being awake before everyone else. You could just take in the small beauties of silence before everything got obnoxious.

Your eyes flicker over to the windows, and see a bright neon sign with arrows pointing downward towards its front door.

A brand new building had just opened up, and it was a place you’ve been waiting to check out for a while now. Honestly, you couldn’t contain the excitement. It seemed like it took forever to finish, as most demons tried to overrun it while it was still in a vulnerable state.

With a little gasp, your hand falls to vox’s shoulder, and shake it lightly. “Oh my god, Vox, wake up!”

A static noise enters the air, as a small groan of annoyance leaves the tv screen. “What—”

You smirk, leaning over his shoulder to view his annoyance. “It’s finally open~ we gotta go!”

He heaves out a heavy sigh, turning to lay on his back with a dull, tired expression. “Y/N,”

“Please?” The little pout you made usually got him to do what you wanted, but this time it didn’t. He looked tired and visibly annoyed. Honestly, fair. You did kinda just wake him up in one of the worst ways possible.

“Can you at least let me wake up a little, first?” His lopsided smile made your heart flutter. Fuck, he was just so cute no matter what.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t fall back to sleep.” You fully sit up, crawling over his figure, and hoping to avoid stepping on any part of him in the process of getting off the bed. Standing to your feet on the floor, he **almost** chuckles. “What the hell even is the place you wanna go to, anyway?” His one eye widens out of curiosity over at you.

You roll your eyes, annoyed that he never usually remembered the little things. “The first like, ever, plant shop in hell. Somebody actually got things to grow down here,” you inform, taking a step in front of the mirror. “I think they used, like, human world magic or something.”

Vox sat up, stretching his neck and letting out a little groan. “Since when can anybody just get access to earth?”

You deadpan him briefly, “Does it even matter? I need one.”

He shakes his head, sitting up.

“I don’t know how you can be this happy so early in the morning.” He smiled at you. Holy shit, he actually smiled at how stupid your little obsession with this place was.

“Did— did you just smile~?” You decide to point it out, a smirk curling up to your features.

His eyes widened, body slightly startled at your reaction to him. “What?”

You inch closer to him, a brighter look of excitement as he stares at you in curiosity. “Oh my god you did! I saw you, so there’s no denying it.”

Vox takes on the tv effect to his tone as he looks up at you. “Alright, alright.” He then stands, and you notice how he slightly towers over your idling frame. “Only you can convince me to do shit I normally wouldn’t do.” His screen looks away with an almost embarrassment to it.

Your arms gently slip around his waist, causing him to tense up, arms raising.

“Thank you.” You smirk up at him. It didn’t take much to get him wrapped around your finger.

Vox sighs, lowering his arms, and slinking a hand around your waist. He gently guides you forward into his figure. His little smile comes back, and for a moment, you can actually feel him soften his outer shell with you. “Anything for you, my dear.”

______________________________________

I’m so sorry my writing hasn’t been up to par lately lmao 🥲 Not loving this one rn

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel one shots #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x you #vox x reader

[secretwritingspot]

High Maintenance

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

COME GET Y'ALLS DINNER I'M BACKKK!!!

Rating/Content Warnings: like...pg-16ish? Idk there's nudity and a lot of suggestive shit and kinda a little bit of groping (consensual, obvs) heavy-petting I guess might be the right term? But there's no outright fucking so do with that what you will.

Summary: Okay but Sanji with a high-femme reader. Like...we know how much this man likes women so I feel like he'd be all over a super femme person. Basically he has a fascination with all their fancy bath products that borders on is pervy because what do all those even do??? Eventually reader just decides to let him watch and find out.

Disclaimer(s): Since it's directly related to the plot, reader is stated as a woman in this, so if that's uncomfy for you to read keep that in mind and keep yourself safe! This idea came to me because I just finished finals and got to properly do self care for the first time in ever and wash all the finals grime off lmfao. Also there's nothing REALLY sub!Sanji about this but also...there's vibes. Damn Taz Skylar for portraying a character so babygirl that even me, quite possibly the world's biggest sub, sees him and is like...yeah I could tell him what to do once or twice.

As much as he tried, Sanji just didn't understand.

Sure, he was far better then the others - leagues away from Luffy and Zoro in terms of hygiene - but he was still a man. And a pirate, at that.

His eyes bend to you when you walk into the galley to move through to the bathroom - towel, change of clothes, and multiple bottles in your arms.

It baffled him the sheer number of products you had- a brush, towel, some sort of sugar concoction, all for the same purpose. A more traditional shampoo, similar to the kind he used, for initially cleaning off all the (your words) "pirate grime". Another, "gentler" shampoo for your hair. Which only doubled his confusion, as he had been under the impression that all shampoo was for hair. 2 different razors, scented body wash, colorful soaps.

It isn't uncommon for you and Sanji to meet this way. He's nearly always in the kitchen, and the hall to the bathroom cuts through the galley. Still, his heart warms every time you stop and set down all the numerous - he'll never understand what all those different products could possibly do - things in your arms on your side of the counter and take a stool, smiling at him.

Without fail, you stop for a few moments every time on your way to the bath just to talk with him, and every time it makes his heart race and his breath catch happily.

"Hey, Sanji."

"Evening, love." He answers, voice deceptively easy. He hopes you'd never know just how much effort goes in to that 'easy' temperament he has around you, but sometimes he thinks it's obvious. "What brings you down here at...2:30 in the morning?"

You laugh softly when he mentions the late hour, ever the type to worry over you getting enough sleep, shrugging sheepishly.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Your (valid) argument seems to phase right through him and he ignores the question, simply raising a brow at you. You shake your head fondly, but answer anyway.

"I was on my way to take a bath. It's nicer at night, since there's less people up. More time, and quiet."

He hums in acknowledgment and keeps cooking, turning to you with a shy look on his face.

"Um...love?"

"Hm?"

You fold your arms in front of you on the counter and lean on your hands, looking at him curiously as you wait for him to continue.

He pauses, face red.

"Well...I was wondering if I...if I could ask you a question?"

You squint in amused confusion at his nervousness, eyes soft and fond as you nod. He thinks he might die.

"Yeah, shoot."

He clears his throat and looks at all the various bath products you brought with you before looking away, gesturing at the bottles.

"What do they...do?"

You snort when you realize that was really what he was so nervous over, shaking your head with a fond giggle.

"Wow, you are such a man sometimes."

Your eyes flit to the products before looking back up at him.

"Wanna be a little more specific?"

"Oh, right." He chuckles, looking embarrassed. "There's so...many?" He looks back at you, the confusion obvious on his face. "I mean...why do you need so many? Do they really all do different things? And-" He gestures to all the various products, brow raised. "Why so many different kinds of shampoo?"

Your giggles turn to full-blown laughter at his confusion, though it's not at his expense.

Okay, mostly not at his expense. Maybe a little bit.

"Oh, honey. You're cute sometimes, y'know that?"

You shake your head, rolling your eyes softly and looking at him. It's sweet, really, how embarrassed and curious he is. A very, very bad (very amusing) idea comes to your mind, and before you can think any better of it, you hear your own voice speaking.

"...want me to show you?"

He blinks almost sleepily, eyes wide.

"I- pardon?"

There's a thick silence as you watch the gears turn in his head, trying to work out if you really just said that and what the hell it means.

"What- what are you suggesting?"

You shrug, teasing smirk unfurling across your face as you sit up, cocking your head at him. It's not exactly like you can un-say what you just said, so you figure you might as well go for it. In for a penny, right?

"Exactly what I just said. You wanna know what they do, I'll show you."

You look down with coy, faux-innocence and sigh, giving him a chance to back out that you know he won't take.

"But, y'know...only if you want to."

The heavy-handed mock disappointment seems to jump start His mind again and his eyes flash with realization, a red flush starting up his neck.

"O- Oh....oh! Yeah, alright. I'd like that. Yeah. Yeah, that would be very- very, uh...helpful. Thanks."

He clears his throat, trying to sound less flustered.

It doesn't work.

You stifle a laugh at his reaction, shrugging and picking up your things. You start to walk down the hallway to the bathroom and for a few moments, he feels like he's frozen solid right where he is. You pause at the door, turning over your shoulder to look back at him teasingly.

"Well, c'mon then. Don't make me wait up."

He blinks and then he's moving towards you, feet carrying him forward before he even truly thinks about what he's doing. He follows you into the bathroom, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Uh...okay, so, how do I- do I sit somewhere? Or...or watch? I- I don't know what's, uh..."

You shake your head with a fond giggle when he struggles to put a sentence together in his nervousness, but you decide to take pity and give him a bit more guidance.

"Alright, sit down."

You move him over to a bench and push him lightly down by the shoulder to sit back. He goes without resistance, letting you push him by two fingers and minimal pressure on his shoulder, closing the door and locking it behind you.

He sits down on the bench, blushing intensely. He doesn't know much about healthcare, but he thinks he might be having heart palpitations.

You hum to yourself quietly as you turn on the hot water, letting the bath fill while you busy yourself setting up the number of bottles and containers and miscellaneous items of yours on the edge of the tub. He shifts in his seat as you open one of the bottles and empty a bit into the bath, which immediately starts foaming as you turn to him with a teasing smile.

"I'm assuming you already know what bubble bath is?"

He nods, looking at the bath as it starts to foam, feeling like a teenager in a high school health class.

"Yeah, I know about that part." He nods slightly in relief- at least he knows something. "Just uh...never actually experienced it before."

"Never?"

Your brows furrow in surprise and confusion before you make a conscious effort to raise them, trying not to make your concern too obvious as something softens in your eyes for a moment. Sympathy, maybe.

"...well, we'll just have to do this for you sometime, then. Once you know what all of it is."

Your voice is gentler then, soft. You don't linger on the moment, looking away to stop the water once the bath is full and holding up a spherical object for him to see.

"This is a bath bomb. It's got stuff in it that makes the water turn pretty colors and smell nice and helps with your skin."

He nods, shifting again in his seat as you place the sphere into the bath. Though he's nervous, his eyes drag to every little detail, desperate to take it all in.

"Right." He mumbles, watching you throw the bath bomb into the water before his curiosity gets the better of him.

"Do you always make it this nice? With all the different...products and stuff?"

You shrug and clip your hair up messily, and he tries not to get distracted by how domestic this whole thing feels.

"When I have the time, yeah. It's...nice. A good way to relax."

You find the zipper of the dress you'd been wearing, a simple sun dress to keep you from melting in the sun or freezing from the sea breeze, fingers halting at the top as you look back at him.

"Last chance to back out, Sanji."

He swallows, eyes trailing down your body as you give him one last out. If he were more in his right mind, he'd think you were sweet for continually checking up on him.

Right now, he just thinks it's tedious.

"No, uh...no, I'm good. I am very much interested in this lesson." He clears his throat. "I would appreciate the, uh...the help."

You huff a fond laugh at his enthusiasm as his blushing gaze meets yours, shaking your head at him softly.

"Alright then."

You reach for the pull of the zipper again and slowly drag it down, slipping the dress off the taper of your shoulders, your waist, your hips. Your panties follow quickly after and your clothes all pool at your feet. You step out of them gingerly before stepping into the bath with a satisfied sigh, sinking slowly into the water with a satisfied hiss.

His eyes follow you the entire time, his heart beating at a rapid clip in his chest. He's seen other people nude before, he's had sex, but watching someone in the bath seems so...it's just...jesus. He's never done something this intimate. And yet, his eyes are glued to you.

He swallows nervously, hands starting to tremble a little bit.

For a moment he gets to see you completely bare, then the cloudy, colored water and the bubbles slowly cover you inch by inch. He can still see from your shoulders up where the water doesn't cover you. Your eyes flick back to him with a knowing smirk.

"You're staring."

It's a simple observation, though there's an undeniably teasing tone to your voice when you point it out. It isn't cold, though, or unwelcoming- the exact opposite, in fact. It's an amused little poke at his more perverted tendencies, but one that makes no judgement on him for it.

It sounds suspiciously like approval.

His mouth is almost agape, mind replaying the scene of every inch of you disappearing behind the clouds of bubbles and soap over and over again. It's like a scene from a romance novel.

(Despite the others' teasing, he's never actually read a romance novel. He assumes this is what they're like.)

He flushes and his eyes flick away from you, resolutely staring at the wall to your right.

"I- I didn't mean to, uh...I- I'm-"

"It's alright."

You quiet his stammering immediately, sending him a quick wink. Again, your tone sounds suspiciously of approval.

"I don't mind."

You sigh in contentedness at the warmth of the bath, taking a moment to just relax into the warmth before grabbing a cloth.

"So, you still want that lesson?"

He looks back at you, his blush red and steadily getting darker He nods slowly, blinking dizzily at the sight of you.

"Yes please."

He whispers, voice hoarse and cracking with equal parts nervousness and excitement. "Please and thank you." He adds softly, biting his lips and nodding again, eyes wide.

You giggle at his obvious excitement, leaning over the edge of the tub to grab a cloth and looking at him coyly with the knowledge that it would give him a teasing glimpse of your chest.

"Right, well- this is an exfoliating towel."

You lift it up to show him on the word "this" as if to emphasize your words before dunking the rough cloth gently underwater to wet it, attempting to explain in terms he can understand- his cooking utensils.

"It's like...polishing a knife. You start with a rougher grit and work your way down."

His eyes widen at the teasing glimpse of your chest as you dunk the towel in. He's embarrassed to find himself a bit breathless, his mind definitely not in the proper place right now.

"Ah..." He nods in understanding, trying to calm his flustered nerves and look away from your body. "So, you'd use this...after you were in the bubble bath, I guess?"

"During."

You correct lightly, beginning to scrub your skin with the wet cloth. To Sanji, it's nothing but a massive tease- first scrubbing each of your arms, then across your shoulders, neck, collar-bones. Each second seems to stretch into hours and he seriously starts to doubt his sanity.

To his disappointment, you scrub down your chest, stomach, hips below the water where he can't see much other than the occasional flash of color from the hot pink cloth.

"It makes your skin smooth, makes it easier to shave, clears off gunk and dead skin. Keeps me..."

But then, you lift your leg out of the water and point it. His mind short-circuits completely as you give him far too good of a view, meticulously scrubbing down one leg before putting it back underwater and repeating the process with the other. Legs, legs - he's heard he has nice ones before and he's never quite understood it but this, you, now - he thinks he could die happy between yours.

You notice, of course, the way his eyes magnetize to your skin. Once finished, you continue the words you'd trailed off on, voice soft and teasing as you wink at him.

"...y'know, soft to the touch."

His eyes follow you, watching you scrub and reveal each body part with a slight flutter in his chest. He swallows, unable to move, his eyes glued to you. Said eyes go wide when you reveal your legs, your bare thighs something he never thought he'd get to see. He swallows, trying not to make it obvious he's staring.

"Yes, I, uh...I believe I understand. It helps make things...soft." He chuckles nervously, trying to play down how obviously flustered he is.

You put down the cloth once you're finished scrubbing down your whole body, thoroughly entertained by his nervousness. You pick up a small jar next, holding it up briefly to show it to him before opening it and gently scooping out a bit of thick paste and rubbing it onto your legs, again giving him a downright sinful view.

"Y'know how I mentioned working your way down to a lower grit? Well, this is that. It's a sugar scrub, pretty much the same purpose. Moisturizes and exfoliates to keep my skin soft."

He watches each moment of you scrubbing, and each bit you reveal of your body. He's got no clue where to look, if he's allowed to look. Even seeing your legs...oh god.

He must be allowed to look, right? Surely he must.

He bites his lip and nods, fingers nervously tapping on his knee as he tries to focus back on anything else, looking away in an attempt to look more respectful than he's feeling at the moment.

"That's, uh...that's a lot of work to put into your skin just for softness."

"Well, you should see how soft it is."

You shoot back with a wink, using another dollop of the paste to exfoliate your upper chest and shoulders.

He notices that you use it on fewer, more specific areas- which he supposes makes sense, since it's a much more finite resource than the cloth. The observation seems much more meaningful to a mind trying to focus on anything other than your body.

Not that it's easy.

Nothing about this is easy.

"Do you just...do this a lot? With your skin, I mean." He asks nervously, eyes wide in wonder that someone would put this much effort into something so baseline...or that someone like you would feel the need to do anything to your angelic appearance.

He clears his throat.

"Y'know...not that you should have to. You look beautiful either way."

"Not always. Or- not fully to this extent."

You smile softly with a shrug, steam swirling in the air around you. All of it seems so effortless. He can't seem to catch his breath. After scrubbing the mixture into your skin for a few moments, you rinse it off with the bath water, expression zen and almost bored like you haven't completely altered the rest of his natural life.

"This is usually what I do when I want to feel...extra nice. When I've got a date, or something else I want to look nice for."

You explain, rinsing yourself off thoroughly before picking up your razor, starting to shave your legs while you talk to him, teasing lightly-

"I take it I don't have to explain shaving to you?"

He blushes a little harder, his eyes going to your legs as you shave them. Oh god, this is making him so nervous. His body is buzzing with anticipation and nerves and...other things.

"Uh...well, no, I uh...I know how to shave. But I guess I'm- I've never been this close to a woman while she shaves, I suppose." He gulps, his words getting softer the further he talks, like he might run out of air. He bites his lip. "But I think I get the idea."

You hum in equal parts acknowledgment and amusement, finishing up shaving in comfortable silence- arms, under arms, legs. The process goes relatively quickly before you set the razor back down, picking up another bottle and a plush looking ball of tight-nit net fabric.

"This is a lufa. And the bottle is body wash."

You keep your explanations simple so as not to confuse him too much. You know he'll be having a tough time focusing on your words as is, especially considering that he has precisely 0 experience with this sort of thing, and you don't want to overwhelm the poor thing.

You hold up the ball for him to see for a moment before uncapping the bottle, pouring a bit of the soapy liquid onto the fabric and rubbing it across your skin. You trace along your neck, chest, shoulders, the sponge-like ball of fabric leaving trails of fluffy bubbles in its path. The sight only makes it harder for him to cope, the bubbles not leaving much of anything to the imagination.

Still, it only adds to the romance-novel story-book scene in his mind, leaving his thoughts alarmingly warm and fuzzy.

He blushes and sighs, eyes glued the entire time. His body is humming with anticipation, his mind is getting hazy. He doesn't know how to handle this, how to handle you- the way you look right now, the way you talk, the person you are. His chest is fluttering, and he's blushing up a storm. Oh god, you look so nice.

"What's that do?"

His voice is hoarse and breathless, the words barely escaping his lips.

"It's a bit like soap, but more...I don't know, luxurious feeling."

You close your eyes in contentedness and move the lufa across your body, much more thorough with this than anything else. As far as he can see, there's not a single spot you don't reach, leaving fluffy trails of bubbles that slowly dissolve when they sink back underwater.

"The lufa is also kinda an exfoliant, but a much more gentle one."

He watches every moment of it with complete fascination, not sure where to look with the lufa in front of you. It's basically impossible not to look at your curves and your body at this point. You're stunningly beautiful in this moment, and he's so close to you he can see her every little detail. His eyes can't move away, and he swallows, nodding.

"I...oh. It looks like it feels nice." He chuckles in his nervousness. "And, uh...it probably smells nice too, I'm guessing..?"

"It certainly does both of those things."

You confirm with a soft, gentle laugh, amused and teasing yes, but more fond and...almost intimate than before.

"I mean, there's not much point taking a bath if you don't come out smelling like a cupcake."

You joke lightly, holding the lufa underwater to let the bubbles fizzle out and then wringing it out and setting it aside to let it dry.

His eyes follow the motions of you wringing out the lufa and he watches your body intently. He's staring at you a little too much, he knows. He can almost see...everything. His breath is coming a little heavy, and he finds his mind is getting more and more hazy as you go.

"A cupcake...?" He swallows, his voice almost cracking. "That's an oddly specific smell. Like... like, vanilla?"

"It's just a figure of speech. Smelling like anything sweet, really. Vanilla, chocolate, fruit, flowers."

You wave a dismissive hand with a giggle, talking to him absentmindedly as you let your hair down from where you had it clipped up and out of the way, shaking it out once you let it down. Slowly, you slide down in the bath until your hair is wet, wiping the wet strands from your face.

"This one is vanilla, though."

You tease with a wink, holding up a bottle of shampoo before opening the lid and pouring a bit into your hand. It only takes you a moment of lathering it before it suds and you can start working the bubbles into your hair.

Sanji, meanwhile, is having a bit of a crisis.

He swallows, feeling his body go a little limp at the sight of you in the bathtub, wet strands of hair hanging over your face. His eyes are glued to you again, and he's getting...so distracted.

He manages to speak, though his words are slow and not quite as coherent as before.

"I- you look...so pretty. Your hair looks great like that." He mumbles quietly, voice hoarse and breathy.

You huff a soft laugh at his mumbled praise, shaking your head fondly. He's always been sweet, but there's something particularly cute about him when he's flustered like this.

"It's a cleansing shampoo. Probably close to the kind you and the boys use."

You explain in a soft hum, leaning your head back again to rinse your hair off gently, running your fingers through it. And trying to shake the thoughts of the boys' 5-in-1 shampoo from your head.

You look like an angel, or a mermaid. He can't decide which.

"That just means it's harsher. Better for getting everything off, since being a pirate isn't exactly the cleanest job. It isn't great for your hair, though."

He smiles, his eyes glancing over your body every once in a while, though mostly he finds himself focused on your face and your hair in particular. Your expression is so...so...ugh. You look like a goddess, hair dripping with water and skin wet from the bath.

"So, you...you want your hair to look nice then. Not just clean."

You nod your head and hum in confirmation, uncapping a different bottle with a smile and pouring some of the liquid inside into your hand.

"That's what this shampoo is for. Still cleans, but it's not as harsh or stripping as the other one."

You lather the new liquid in your hair, massaging it into your scalp with a soft, contented sigh at the relaxing feeling as it quickly turns to white suds.

"So it's not as good as getting all of the pirate grime out of your hair, but it keeps your hair soft, shiny, healthy. All that good stuff."

He swallows, his eyes locked onto you and your hair, watching it shimmer and gleam with the water and product soaking through it. God, you're so...your hair shines like glass, and he can't stop staring at it.

"Uh, do you...d'you want help with that?" He asks quickly, his breath catching in his throat. "I mean-" He mumbles, cutting himself off sheepishly. "Do you need any help?"

Your eyes widen slightly at his enthusiasm, an amused smile quickly growing on your face. You look off to the middle distance for a moment with a dramatic sigh in mock consideration before looking back at him, quirking a finger forward in permission.

"Well, go on then."

His lungs stop working.

Really, his breath just hitches in his throat again, only a second as he blinks once. But he's convinced his body is giving out. Oh god, you want him to touch you. Oh, god, you're letting him touch you.

He swallows and then nods eagerly, leaning forward slowly. He leans close, his cheeks blushing a little bit as the scent of your hair tickles his nose. He reaches out gingerly, like he's not sure if he's allowed, before rubbing the shampoo into your hair.

"Just..." He trails off quietly, his voice breaking a little breathily as he tilts your head back softly to give himself better access.

You practically purr at the touch when he massages the shampoo into your scalp, your neck, your hair, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter shut with a sigh.

"You're good with your hands, aren't you?"

You observe softly, letting him continue to wash and rinse your hair. His passion for the task is palpable, though you could've guessed as much with the fixation he always had on your bath products, equal parts curious and perverted.

His blush deepens quickly, and his hands shake as his fingers brushing against you carefully.

"Uhm..." He chokes slightly, clearing his throat. "I- I guess I am. I like doing things with my hands." He swallows, words coming out a little hoarse. His fingers move back to your hair.

"I can tell."

You remark teasingly, voice soft as you shoot him a wink before closing your eyes again. Once the shampoo is all rinsed from your hair, you direct him softly, voice quiet in clear relaxation-

"Conditioner. Purple bottle by your hand."

He scrambles to uncap the bottle as soon as you speak, eager to have been given permission to continue, pouring a small amount into his hands before brushing his fingers through your hair.

"'s for making your hair smoother. Keeps it from breaking if you comb it too much."

You explain absentmindedly. This one is new- it doesn't fizz up in his hands or create bubbling foam in your hair, just absorbs into the strands, smooth and slick and shiny.

He rubs his hands together, spreading out the conditioner throughout your hair, working it to its core. His breathing is a little shaky as his fingers glide through your hair, but he does his best not to show it. His eyes are still focused on you, and his heart is beating too fast.

He swallows, the scent of your conditioner filling his nose and his mind.

"How do you...find the time for all this? That's a lot of bottles, and a lot of work to just...make your hair nice."

"It's worth it. It's...relaxing. Like meditation. Or cooking something familiar."

You add on second thought, relating back to him to help him understand. When the conditioner is worked into your hair, you toss him a towel to dry his hands on once he's rinsed them off.

"Now go sit back down. Lesson's almost over."

You instruct softly, voice gentle and fond. He doesn't think before moving back to the bench and sitting back down, though his brows furrow endearingly in confusion. You just laugh lightly.

"Not every bath product is something you use in the actual bath."

He nods, expression confused, but he doesn't ask for elaboration. His eyes are still glued to your body, the sight of you in the bath still stunning. It's almost hypnotic to just sit back and watch. He clears his throat, looking around the bath curiously with a hint of confusion on his face.

"So...what's left?"

"...you'll see."

Is the eventual, cryptic answer he gets after a pause, you still smirking slightly. Then you- oh. Oh. You stand up, pulling the plug in the bath and letting the water drain as you step out to stand on the bath mat, completely bare and wet and dripping and oh, god- you grab a medium sized towel and lightly dry your hair until it's no longer dripping, still damp but not actively in your way, clipping it up again as you pat the rest of your body dry softly, humming to yourself as you work.

"Wait, are you...are you not going to wear anything else? I mean...I'm not complaining, I like looking at you, but...aren't you cold?" He asks, still staring at you excitedly. Your hair is up again, and every inch of your body is on display. He's practically drooling.

Oh, god, this is a blessing.

You scoff lightly at the question, shaking your head in fond amusement without looking up, still focused on drying yourself off.

'I'm gonna put on clothes eventually, Sanji. Like I told you, I'm not done yet."

Once you deem your level of dryness acceptable enough, you pick up another jar and open the lid, scooping out a bit of a much thicker cream.

"Moisturizer."

You answer before he even has the will to ask, eyes meeting his for a moment with a fond smirk as you rub the cream onto your body.

"Smells nice, and keeps your skin soft."

He stares at you as you rub the moisturizer on your body, his eyes going everywhere as you move. Every inch of your body is incredible, and he keeps finding new places to look.

He swallows, his expression a mix of admiration, shock, and excitement.

"Do... do you want any help with that?" He asks nervously.

It would be a lie to say he's asking for innocent reasons. Seeing your hands - small, soft, yours - massage the moisturizer into every inch of your body, your legs, thighs, hips, arms, stomach, neck- Jesus, your tits- his mind is on fire.

"Aww, are you offering? Sure, Sanji. You can help."

You answer, voice teasing like you know exactly what he's thinking, and- wait. That's- he actually- you gave him permission? You actually said yes? It takes him a moment to process the words, mind tripping over itself in surprise and oh fuck yes, Jesus Christ.

That's exactly what he's offering, and he doesn't have the mind to hide it. He nods eagerly, his expression telling you everything you need to know.

He scoots over closer, his hand reaching for the moisturizer and his eyes glued on your breasts now. They look so good. He applies the cream directly there, the touch of his hands on your soft skin causing him a burst of electricity as he touches you gently. Oh god, you're letting him... he's touching you! It's like his mind is exploding, and he's doing his best to contain himself.

You almost laugh when he immediately decides to start at your breasts, rolling your eyes fondly at the predictable move.

You aren't really surprised but then again, you still let him.

He's definitely not going to let you do this alone, anyway. It's too much of a blessing, and his hands are trembling, even as he works them into your skin. He's trying to focus on keeping himself from getting too excited, but seeing you like this is too much to handle. He licks his lips nervously as his hands flit all over your body. His mind screams at him to do something, do more, but the years of chivalry drilled into him stay his hands.

Soon enough the moisturizer has sunken into your skin and you press him back lightly by the chest, using those same fingers to tilt his chin up softly. You angle his head up at you, voice soft with a gentle smirk on your face.

"Thanks for the help, Sanji."

He swallows, looking up at you. His lips are parted and his breath is heavy. He blinks slowly. He's...he can't believe just how lucky he is.

"Of-of course. It was nice to...it was nice to help someone...someone so beautiful." He says, his voice breathless and his cheeks flushed a bright, bright red.

You huff a fond little laugh, mussing up his hair with your hand.

You're gone in a flurry as quickly as you came, a sleep shirt and a pair of panties thrown on before he can even process that you're moving, a teasing pat on the cheek and a repetition of "well, thanks anyway!" And then...you're gone.

Like a mirage or a daydream, the kind he never lets himself have in public (not that any of his effort has stopped him, really).

It takes a moment for him to grow aware of his surroundings again. Aware of anything. The tile is cool beneath his knees and - when did he get there? - the air is thick with steam but slowly thinning. The scent of you still lingers, or the scent of your myriad of products, he's not sure. And...those.

That's an entirely separate problem for him to tackle. He groans.

His budget can't handle frivolous expenses, but now he can't get the thought out of his head of wrapping his fist around himself with some of that fancy moisturizer that smells like you as lube and...shit, he's gonna have to buy a bottle, before he goes insane.

Ah, fuck, who is he kidding? He's never going to be able to do so much as take a bath without jerking off again.

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x you

[heich0e]

suguru's throat feels tight.

not in the nice way—like when someone pays you a compliment you aren't expecting, or you're given a thoughtful gift.

his airway is a vice; sticky and closing in on itself like a boobytrap in those terrible action movies that satoru always makes him watch, where the walls are slowly crushing inwards on the hero, leaving no obvious way to escape.

his face feels hot—too hot for the meagre amount of alcohol he's had to drink that evening. hot enough that he's sure his cheeks are flushed a vicious red. he looks down at his hands, still wrapped around the half-drained drink between them, and when he pulls one away from the circumference of the glass he sees the way his fingers tremble, moved by a force only he can feel.

he sets his cup down on whatever surface is within reach and looks for the nearest exit.

the bar is crowded, and every body that jostles him on his odyssey to the door makes him feel even more sick to his stomach—makes him acutely, and uncomfortably aware of just how many people are jammed into such a confined space. with every step he takes towards the fire exit (the one which at this point he just has to pray isn't connected to some kind of alarm) it seems to be growing further away, like his steps are a paradox he's trapped in.

finally, finally, his hands press down against the push bar of the door, and cold winter air hits his burning cheeks like a slap.

he's on his knees retching into the grimy snowbank that lines the back alley before the door has even fully swung closed.

"oh, wow,—"

suguru can barely hear you over the sound of his pulse in his ears. it was too noisy in the bar to make it out this clearly, lost in the thrum of the bass-heavy music and the spiral of his thoughts, but now it's unmistakable. it pounds in his head, under his tongue, trapped in the walls of his throat.

he lifts his head, his eyes bleary from the tears his exertion had sprung to them, and he sees a figure a few paces away from him with a cigarette lifted to their lips.

he blinks hard, willing the world to come back into focus. as it does (painfully slowly,) he can see you better. the first thing he can clearly make out is the oversized jacket you have wrapped around your frame (big enough that it can't possibly be your own.) his eyes flicker next to the bare legs that peek out from underneath it, and trail all the way up to the lines of your face as you watch him. but it's your eyes that make him falter for a moment: curious but strangely impassive at the same time.

"—rough night?" you ask, but you make no move to come any closer to him.

he's grateful for at least that small mercy, he can't help but think.

"sorry," he chokes out, spitting into the sludgy grey snowbank one last time just to try and get the terrible taste out of his mouth. he stands unsteadily, his hands braced against the brick wall of the bar to keep himself balanced. "i didn't even drink that much."

he's not sure why he feels the need to say it, or make any effort to save face when you've just seen him at what's surely one of the lowest points of his life. you're a stranger, after all. what does it matter, anyway?

you hum a bit, taking another drag from your cigarette. the sound is halfhearted, and it upsets him unjustly.

"i really didn't," he insists, wiping at his mouth with the back of his knuckles and turning to you properly. "i-i'm on these new meds and they've got me all fucked up."

your eyes widen a bit, and he watches the way the smoke slips out of your lips—painted a rich, ruby colour for the evening.

"no shit?" you ask him. "you shouldn't be out partying if you're sick, y'know. alcohol can really fuck up scripts."

"i'm not sick," he replies quickly. too quickly. too ardently to possibly be true. and the silence that follows is too heavy for such a cold, still night. he looks away, fixing his eyes on the road at the end of the alley.

"oh," you drag out the word, an understanding lilt in your tone. "those kinda meds."

suguru glances back to you.

"so," you take a step towards him, and it sets his teeth on edge. "what's your poison of choice then? paroxetine? fluvoxamine? good ol' fashioned escitalopram?"

suguru's head is still spinning from the liquor, but his pulse has died down a bit. now his mouth feels uncomfortably dry.

you keep going.

"are you taking it neat or did they give you a little chaser with it too for a bit more"—you make a little flourishing gesture with your hand—"oomph."

you're right in front of him now. close enough that the smell of your cigarette has finally reached him. suguru can't help but eye it covetously, longing for the pack in his own coat pocket, left somewhere in the bar. you follow his eyes and laugh a little, holding the half-smoked cigarette out to him. it has a lipstick mark on the filter, but he takes it anyway.

he sucks in a greedy, needy inhale.

the rush of nicotine hits him right away, comforting and familiar. his exhale feels almost rapturous.

he takes another little puff, then extends the cigarette back out to you.

"don't worry about it,"—you wave the gesture off—"you can keep that one on account of the whole... y'know..." your eyes flicker down to the snowbank where geto had just been retching.

oh, right.

"thanks," he mumbles appreciatively, wasting no time before he takes another drag.

the two of you stand side by side in the dingy alley while geto finishes off your cigarette. he crushes it under the heel of his boot, grinding it down into the cracked asphalt, once it's done.

"how'd you know?" he asks after a few more moments of silence. the cold is starting to get to him now—registering in a way that didn't when he first made it outside. the chill bites at his cheeks and his nose, stinging in its frigidity.

"know what?" you feign coyness, tilting your head a little to the side. he sees a flicker of something behind your eyes again that slips through the facade of composure—something mirthful, and maybe a little mean.

he swallows, and tastes tobacco on his tongue. "about the anti-depressants."

you laugh a bit to yourself, but the sound is strained like you're almost trying to bite it back. "don't take this the wrong way, but you just sort of look like the type."

he looks at you—really looks at you—then.

you're pretty.

he supposes he recognized that already, even if he didn't process it properly at the time. your lips look soft, your eyes draw him in, and in any other circumstance he thinks you might have been the type of girl he sidled up alongside in a bar just like the one he just fled and tried to start a conversation with.

but these aren't any other circumstances. you just watched him puke his guts up in a filthy alley and then guessed his SSRI prescription like the world's worst game show. and to make matters worse, his dick hasn't even been working right lately since he started these new pills.

as though life wasn't already cruel enough.

the fire exit flies open again, and all attention turns to it.

"there you are," shoko is standing in the doorway, half-in and half-out of the bar, cringing against the cool evening air. she frowns in suguru's direction. "we've been looking everywhere for you."

suguru watches as she ducks her head back through the doorway, but whatever she calls over her shoulder is lost to the music that's bleeding out into the alley from inside the bar. gojo appears behind her in an instant, his displeased expression brightening immediately upon seeing his friend. he pushes his sunglasses up atop his head, his white hair pinned back underneath them.

"suguru!" he cheers. "we lost you."

"i was just getting some air," suguru smiles blithely, in the way that he's perfected.

gojo shoulders his way out the door towards suguru, dragging him back towards the door with an arm slung around his neck. shoko's eyes flicker over to you.

"oh, hey," she says, nodding in greeting.

"shoko-senpai," you return her greeting politely.

"are you coming back in too?" she asks.

gojo and geto both pause in the doorway, turning to glance back at you.

"no, i'm heading home," you say with an easy smile, not unlike the expression geto had just shown. "you three have a nice night."

"get home safe," she calls after you, a lilt of curiosity in her tone. you lift a hand over your shoulder as you walk away, waggling your fingers in a lazy wave.

"who was that?" gojo asks as the door swings shut behind shoko. he leans in front of suguru so his voice can be heard over the loud music.

"she's a junior in my department at school," shoko explains, "don't you recognize her?"

gojo purses his lips as he contemplates it and then shakes his head definitively. it's not unusual for satoru not to recognize someone, especially a pre-med student instead of a physics student like himself, but suguru is a bit surprised that he can't recall meeting you previously.

satoru tugs suguru's arm back towards the thick of the crowd, and he braces himself for the oncoming barrage of stimulation. he freezes just before he takes his first step, whipping back around to the door.

"what's wrong?" satoru asks him, leaning over his shoulder. he's got his sunglasses on again, and now suguru can't through the lenses in the dim light of the bar, but he knows satoru well enough to picture the wide-eyed look of curiosity that must be behind them.

suguru's brow pinches in a bewildered furrow.

"was she wearing my coat?"

#suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #tw mental illness #tw anti-depressants #tw vomit #geto x reader

[adoregojo]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ late night talk ➝ nagi seishiro ✶

can't believe i never wrote for nagi.. content ➠ fluff, fluff and more fluff. kinda short.. :'3

"am i sloppy looking?"

nagi light voice called, you weren't sure if it was a dream because it was around 3am and a half and your vision was blurry from heavy sleep. you opened your eyes a little to be met with your boyfriend facing the ceiling instead of you looking down and in deep thoughts.

"sei..it's too late to have a night talk." your voice was raspy and clearly still drowsy.

"but i wanna know, am i unattractive looking?" your boyfriend asked with his usual plant voice. even when nagi wasn't that good with showing emotions yet you always told him his eyes were an open window and tells enough, he was a little frown that you almost didn't notice.

"and since when did the nagi seishiro care about looks?" you stated, at least trying to lighten up the mode.

"I don't, i care what you think." he explained.

you were taken off by his words that causes the sleep to flow away. you never thought that the day will come and nagi ask you a question like that, you didn't remember saying anything about his looks specifically about him being dreary looking, his eyes remained dry and drained, like something was eating him alive that it didn't allow him to close his eyes. you were never hesitant to tell him he looked handsome showering him with compliments. so whats that about?

he still refuses to meet you eyes, was he afraid to see the look at your face? or hear the words that will come out next? even someone that lacked emotions like nagi could be sorrowful sometimes.

"well, if you asked me." you moved your body closer to him until you felt your shoulder touching his, you cupped his ear and whispered gently. "i think you're the only one ever."

nagi finally turned to lock his eyes with yours, his resting eyes were now slightly wider and his mouth as well, "really?" he blurted when his ears felt heart hot.the sudden change almost made you laugh, he looked so elated like a puppy that just got his treat.

you two were close, almost nose touching each other's. the closeness never bothered you neither will it now, you nodded with smile that made his heart flutter. he felt warm again.

"even if a if i wore that ugly sweater you hate with passion?" he asked playfully.

"I'd still think you're the only guy ever." you admitted.

"even with that hideous cowboy hat?"

"yes sei, even with that hideous cowboy hat."

"wow, you must reallly love me." he said mischievously and you roll your eyes playfully. "shut up, and i also love you for what you have in here." you patted him on his left chest, pointing to his heart.

"....my chest?"

"your heart, dumbass!"

"ooohh." he shook his understandment. you couldn't help but chuckle a bit, seriously how is this guy considered a genius?

your laughter made his black and white world into something colourful, melting his iced heart and colouring his unoccupied soul. he never thought having someone to think of him more than a genius soccer player would make him feel this alive.

damn, he was absolute smitten wasn't he?

"did that satisfy you? can we go back to sleep now?" he turned to you now sluggish figure, barely able to keeo one eye opened.

"i wanna hold you." he said as you turned around giving him you back, he took your silence as an approval to warp his arms around stomach holding you as close as possible, his massive body taking over yours. it didn't hurt to give you a couple of kisses before sleeping, right?

"quite the kisses..i wanna sleep sei." you mumbled while his lips kept smashing against every inch of your face.

"just one more."

he didn't stop at one, or two, or three..

"i only have eyes for you too.." he doubted you heard that.

love nagi..have a great day everyone └(^o^)┘

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro

[oepionie]

—"GOTTA ESCAPE THE VOID." overblot mc!

SYNOPSIS: The Ramshackle prefect has a reputation for frequently encountering fatal magical mishaps. And when a magical accident involving Crowley almost kills them, Crewel resolves to take matters into his own hands. But it appears that his impulsive decisions cause the prefect to reach their limit and go off the rails.

⊹ [ cw ] — heavy warnings, please read before you proceed. arguments with father, self-depricating thoughts, mentions of blood, protective parent, thoughts of offing self (only once), overblot mc!, miscommunication w friends, crying, physical fights ◞

⊹ [ tags ] — angst! gender neutral reader, crewel really embodies the 'cruel' in 'cruella', ace gets mad at you :(, deuce tries to comfort you through it all, crowley feels guilt (wow), crewel is vry vry angry and punches crowley, crewel has a mother gothel moment<3◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 2.5k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

YOUR VISION WAS NOTHING, but a myriad of colorful blurs and shapes. Muffled voices spoke to you, but everything was practically just incomprehensible, panicked babbling. The heavy pressure of metal was pressed up against your windpipe, restraining your breath as it wound tighter and tighter. Though, a few seconds later, it vanished as if it had never existed, bursting into bright magical sparks.

The gush and pool of blood surrounds your dirtied, tangled mess of hair, a dark scarlet seeping into the knotted strands. Kneeling before your body, Crowley felt his heart skid to a stop. The sight of your fatigued form writhing around the ground tore at his chest, claws of guilt digging in deep and dragging across thick tissue.

"Prefect…Can you hear me?" The crow murmurs, clawed hands pressing against the side of your pounding head as he guides it to rest atop his lap. Vibrant blooms of red stain the dark fabric of his pants, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Dad…it hurts s'much." You slur in hushed tones, your eyes wringing shut from the pain. That was enough for Crowley to put his arms around you.

He shielded your body with his torso, hands clawing at your back as he wracks his mind of what to do next. Hastily turning round, he shifts his gaze to the surrounding students, all of them looking equally mortified.

"What are you standing around there for?! Call the nurse!"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Drip. Drip

The pungent smell of alcohol and medication fill your senses as you groggily blink awake.

The familiar creaky wood of Ramshackle's ceiling greets you as you pull yourself from dreamland. Looking over both sides of your bed, you smile once you see both Deuce and Ace seated on a nearby couch. Both of them were quick to jump up and approach you, fussing over your bedridden form.

"Thank Sevens." Deuce murmurs, tenderly combing your damp hair back. You roll your head to the side to face him, but wince at the sudden throb of pain in your spine. Ace darts over and hushes you, gently repositioning your head to face front once more, making sure your neck was supported by a pillow. "Hey…It'd be great if you don't move so much…"

“Right. Makes sense. 'Nways…how bad was my injury?” You mutter, your recollections of the past event still foggy. All you could remember was that Crowley had fired a spell, and you somehow got into the crossfire.

“Fucking horrible.” Ace scoffs, looking at you sternly.

"Yeah, take it easy for a bit. The injury was…pretty serious. It was a miracle that the spell missed your head by a thread…" Deuce murmurs as he presses a gentle hand on your bandaged forehead.

Strands of blueberry hair fall loosely at the sides of his face as he stares down at you with worry. "You were out for three days."

"Ah…well—you know, me and my dumb non-magical ass. Always getting into trouble," you giggle, a cheery grin stretching over your cracked lips. Though it rapidly drops when you realize your two friends aren't laughing with you.

Ace shifts his gaze to the floor, hands clasped into a fist. "You're not dumb, prefect…"

"Well—I kinda am," You snort, tugging the blanket closer to your chilly form. "I really have to stop being around the old man's magic shows."

Unconvinced, Ace only shakes his head and scoffs at your jokes. The ginger reclines back into his chair, hands vigorously tugging and pulling at his hair. "You aren't. The real issue here is that deadbeat crow. I mean...hasn't he learnt anythin' from last time? What kind of idiot treats his child—"

"It wasn't his fault, Ace." Pushing yourself off the bed, you immediately interrupt him, voice stern as you rush to defend Crowley. "He didn't mean it. I got in the path of his magic. And—I'm pretty sure he's already beating himself up over this."

Sinking back into the bed, you clasp both your hands together. "It wasn't his fault. Sure, he's reckless and all but…but he's still my dad."

Silence washes over your room.

Ace was visibly frustrated, the blunt tips of his nails dug deep into his skin, nearly piercing past skin. With a final scoff, he stands from his chair and quietly excuses himself from the room.

The door slams shut with a blaring bang as both you and Deuce were left alone.

Sighing, the freshman takes your trembling hand in his, clasping it tight as his body temperature warms the cool skin. He draws your right arm up to press your palm against his cheek, eyes looking deep into yours.

"Professor Crewel is pissed," Deuce whispers as you trace gentle circles on his skin. A pair of shaky cyan eyes meets your concerned ones. "He was planning to—"

Deuce's mouth parted open and close and yet he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. You cast a questioning glance his way, but Deuce shakes his head, disregarding your questions.

"…nothing."

Surprise washes over you as you stare down at Deuce's hunched over form. It…wasn't like your friends to be so dismissive.

You, Ace, and Deuce had always been good friends. Sure you had your differences but you always communicated openly with one another. Nobody has ever been this...secretive.

Just…what was happening?

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sickening crack of a bone echoes through the faculty room as the rough knuckle of Crewel's fist connects with Crowley's face. The headmaster reels, mask flying off as his hands fly to his bloodied nose.

Everyone in the vicinity quieted as the only noise heard was the potionology professor's labored breathing.

Then, without hesitation, Crewel surges forward. Loud commotion and screaming could be heard in the meeting room as everyone quickly circles around the two. A couple of hands seize Crewel by the arms, but the professor only grows more agitated, attempting to fight past the herd.

"Let me go!" Crewel roars, tugging his arm free as he attempts to swing a fist at the headmaster. "Dire! This is your fucking fault!"

"Divus! Calm yourself!" Trein scolds, arms locked tight around the man's torso. A few more pairs of hands restrain the professor as he is forcibly pushed down onto a couch.

His face was the epitome of unrepressed rage: With his cheeks drawn back in a deep sneer, eyes bloodshot red, and hair a knotted mess.

Trein stands before the younger man, looking down at him with disgust. "Have you no shame? What will the prefect think once they hear of this?"

Across the room, Crowley spits out a little blood, blinking fresh tears out of his eyes. For the last three days, the crow has been suppressing all of its emotions; however, all of a sudden, he is overcome with an unfettered and unhindered flood of shame and rage.

When the headmaster finally turned around, he fixed Crewel with an expression so scathing that the potionology professor felt compelled to charge at him again.

Once, coldly, sharply, and bitterly, Crowley laughed. "It's my fault, you say? You think I don't know that?"

"Oh please—Dire. I couldn't care less about what you think." Crewel seethes, venom practically dripping from his lips. The alchemy professor strides forward, heels clicking against the floor as he grabs Crowley by the collar.

"You're a failure of a father. All you've ever brought their way is danger." The professor cackles kicking the crow's skin.

Digging deep into his red handbag, Crewel snatches out papers and jams it into Crowley's chest. The crow unravels the creased pages to read the text on the document, eyes ripping wide open as he realizes what it was.

"You…can't possibly." The headmaster sputters, hands shaking as he reads the texts again and again.

"Oh, but I can." Crewel sneers, taking pleasure in the look of fear Crowley sends his way. He snaps around, coat billowing up behind him as he briskly walks towards the entryway. "I expect those papers to be signed by tonight."

Before walking out of the room, Crewel spares the headmaster one final glance. "The prefect departs this Monday."

Days after the event were all followed by violent storms that appeared to go on forever. Every night and day, the rain endlessly poured down from the bitter grey skies and roars of thunder echoed through the dewy clouds. Some days, it was nearly impossible to go to school.

It was almost as though Mother Nature herself was upset.

Just like how everyone was.

Crowley and your other friends shunned you like you had the plague. Even bright Kalim greeted you with a deep frown, a flimsy excuse slipping off his lips as he ran away. Only Deuce stayed by your side through it all.

The blueberry had told you everything was alright—that everything was normal and fine— but you couldn't help but be skeptical.

So when Crewel came to visit, you welcomed him right in. Eager to hear what he has to say.

The clatter and click of your father's heeled boots echoed through the walls of the dormitory as he examined the premises, comparing it to his own much more lavish flat back home in the city.

Finally, after an excruciating 5 minutes. his gaze flitted over to your bedridden form.

And the words he utters out next shatter your entire being.

"I'm withdrawing you from NRC."

What.

The glass clasped in your bandaged hands slips from your grip, smashing onto the oak wood of Ramshackle's flooring. You raise your mortified gaze to scowl at your professor, jaw dropped open in shock.

"What?" you breathlessly utter. "What do you mean?!"

"I'm transferring you to another school." Crewel replies, pushing himself off the fireplace and slipping his thick fur coat off his shoulders. The scant light emitted by the candles atop your study table did nothing to help you navigate his form as he strode around your bedroom.

"Now. You might be asking why? For one, look at the…accommodations Dire provided you with."

Crewel kicks a piece of splintered bark aside while making a gesture towards the disorder and wreckage all around you.

In the evenings, you had to use candles because the ceiling lights seldom ever functioned. The flooring had so many tears and holes that they were virtually falling apart. On occasion, you could even see the scuffle of rats beneath. The roof leaked, horribly; You had no money to fix it so you placed a bucket below instead. The front door was broken, barely hanging on its hinges, evidence of all the times your friends visited and never bothered to knock.

All of these problems and so many more were present, but this dorm was with you since the very start. It provided you with a roof over your head…it helped you survive.

"So what?" You retort, leaning back into your bed and sinking deep into the scratchy yet familiar pillows. "I don't mind it!"

"A foolish decision." Crewel sneers, running a hand into his hair. "Your accommodations aren't the only problem. Your self-destructive habits endanger you as well!"

There it was.

Groaning, you wring your hands through your hair, tangling it up. "When are you gonna stop saying that I'm self-destructive!?"

"When you start acting like somebody that actually cares about their life!" Crewel barks out, hands grasping your shoulders. The sudden increase in volume makes you recoil, but you were stubborn and refused to give in just yet.

"But I do care about my life!" You sputter out. "Why can't you just—"

"Remember what happened when Rosehearts overblotted?" He reminds you, "You charged towards a bloodthirsty tyrant with no protection, no magic, and no plan." Crewel then crosses his arms over his chest, addressing you with a pointed glare. "And you have the nerve to tell me you're not self destructive?"

"Riddle is not a tyrant!" Crying out, you slam your hand against your bedsheets, face twisting into an unsightly sneer. "I was trying to save my friend!"

Crewel gets right in your face, returning the expression of anger you sent his way. "Those friends of yours only care about you when you're useful!" he thundered, jabbing a finger into your chest.

That comment immediately silenced you.

Your hand was clasped over your mouth, jaw dropped wide open in disbelief as a sharp gasp escapes your dry throat.

A poisonous and dangerously harmful feeling gripped at whatever remnant the professor had of a heart. It colored his thoughts with regret as he began to feel a twinge of guilt, the weight of words sinking in.

There was a deep sigh of resignation from Crewel before he put a hand on your shoulder and looked you deep in the eyes, voice lowering to a softer lilt. "Why is it that every other person in that dorm had the sense to run away from the blots, but you didn't?"

Kneeling down, your father gazed at you with such vulnerability in his eyes as he murmurs, "Do you know how terrified I was every time I'd get the same message from Dire that you were out fighting overblots again? Putting your life at risk for those rabid dogs?"

The recognition of your destructive habits hit you like a splash of ice cold water. With a guilty and uncomfortable grimace on your face, you averted your attention to the floor. "I just wanted to help."

Slowly rising to his feet again, Crewel casts a deep frown your way. "I know you do, but you're careless with your life and if you're not careful…one of these days, you're gonna die."

"I will not hear anymore disagreements about this, do you hear? I've allowed you to run rampant around these past few months. You will so as I say and I'll have you transferred by the end of this week." He says simply, dropping a pristine sheet of paper clasped in a clipboard before you. Your dull eyes flicker across the title as you grudgingly reach for the pen he offers you.

TRANSFER APPLICATION.

That blank line at the end of the page is swiftly covered by your shaky red signature and Crewel is powerless to stop the relieved sigh that heaves past his lips.

A surge of victory, certainty, and an intense sense of relief overpowers the tangled and conflicting sentiments of guilt that were swimming through his chest.

You were safe, that's all that matters.

With a grieving heart, you nudge the pen and page back to your father dismissively, placing them both atop the bed. Crewel re-rolled the page and tucked it back into his handbag along with the pen.

The professor raises a hand to gently pat your shoulders as he bends down, pressing a kiss atop your head. "Father knows best."

As Crewel quietly takes his leave, he is none the wiser to the formation of impure, tainted tar-like blot dripping from your tears. Curling in yourself, you tuck your head into your knees, a broken sob spilling from your lips.

A sick and twisted feeling arises in your heart as you replay the argument you had with Crewel, and you start to wish that maybe, just maybe, Crowley's spell had succeeded in striking you.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Oi…Henchhuman?"

Drip.

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[bluecollarmcandtf]

Trying Them on for Size

My stepdad's eyes rolled back as my friend leapt into his body. Thanks to my distraction, he had a clear jump, and the possession was instant. The beer in his hand didn't even slip as a new guy took over the thick hunk of meet.

"Goddamn, this guy is big!" my stepdad's voice rumbled in uncharacteristic glee, "My arms feel like a ton heavier with all this muscle!"

"I...I cant believe it worked," I stammer, still processing the fact that Sam, my best friend, is inside Paul, my jerk of a stepfather.

Sam lifts a heavy arm and takes a whiff. "Wow, your dad smells rank! Does the pig shower much?" he groans and laughs, "What'd you say this idiot does again?"

"Mechanic, and he's not my dad," I answer, still trying to get over my nerves, "How's it feel...to be in him?"

"Man, he's so muscular and dense. I mean, I can feel how heavy he is, ya know? He's like really sweaty and kinda gross too, but I feel like I could beat the shit out of anyone right now!"

Sam takes a swig of Paul's beer, making the body look just like the alcoholic stepfather I knew and hated. Normally, I'd avoid the guy at all costs. He'd usually only speak to me in grunts, and that was only when he wasn't ignoring my existence. Now, Sam was using his mouth to yap off like an excited puppy.

I think Sam notices that I'm still a little tense, because he stops staring at his massive arms and puts the beer down. Paul's body steps right against me and grabs my hands as he looks down into my eyes. My stepdad would certainly never have done this before.

"How you doin, man?" Sam asks, but I can't help but feel like Paul is talking.

"Good," I lie, "This is just so surreal."

"Well, what do you want to see your old step daddy do for ya?" he asks playfully, "The jerk is at your whim, dude."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, sonny boy! Wanna watch as daddy Paul gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you?"

Sam pilots the muscular body to the floor, while staring longingly up at me with Paul's normally hateful gaze.

"Wanna see your big bad old man, stick out his tongue and lick your shoes?"

Before I can react, Paul...I mean Sam...has stuck out his tongue and started dragging it up the length of my sneaker. God, the sight of my harsh stepfather licking my shoe is incredible! He'd be so humiliated right now.

Sam pulls away from my feet and up to Paul's knees, "Maybe he needs to find another way to express just how sorry he is to his favorite boy."

Sam's lips hang open as he inches towards my tenting pants. My heart is racing with the anticipation of getting Paul's lips on my aching cock.

"I'm home!" a singsong voice echoes through the house.

"Shit, your mom!" Sam growls with Paul's hoarse voice, "I mean, my wife."

"Shut up," I snap, "Let's go to your house. We can get an early start to phase two."

My grizzled stepdad smirks, and we sneak out. Phase two involves Sam's biggest bully: his older brother, and he just got off work.

Michael was even easier to distract and jump into than my stepdad was. I may have been a little nervous, but after watching Sam do it at my house, I was practically a pro.

"Woah," I gasp in a much deeper tone than I'm used to, "Your brother is tall."

"Yeah, he was the basketball star before he graduated. Now he just bums around in the basement and beats me up after work," Sam explains.

I have to admit that it's a little weird to hear my friend complaining about getting picked on when he's wearing a super mature and muscular body. Though, Paul does look less intimidating when I see him from the towering height of the stud I'm in.

"Where were we?" I suggestively purr, getting a hang of using this guy's voice.

"Paul was about to apologize," Sam flashes a smile which looks foreign on Paul's face, "But I think you should make Michael apologize to me first."

I chuckle and take a step towards him, but almost stumble over the massive feet I have on.

"Damn, he's clumsy," I laugh, "Your brother deserves some sort of punishment, but what do you want him to do? Drop down and kiss your ass profusely or maybe bend over and take a good beating?"

"Both," Paul's mouth gulps as his calloused hands struggle to hide a growing hard-on.

"Or maybe you want to hear your brother grovel and beg for forgiveness?" I go on, dropping Michael's body to its knees, "Or maybe you can find a better use for this pathetic mouth."

"Shit, man!" I hear Paul's voice whine, "We're definitely going to make these straight assholes screw each other! But then we have to take them out tonight. They need to be put through something more public!"

"Oh I like that!" I moan from inside Michael, "Offer these jerks' bodies up for use at every gay bar!"

"At every gas station!" Sam excitedly claps Paul's hands together.

"They can pound Michaels ass while Paul tongue-polishes their boots!"

"Come here!" Sam growls.

"Yes, sir."

I jump into Sam's arms! Well, Michael jumps into Paul's arms. As electric as it feels, I can constantly sense that we don't own the bodies we are in. We're just puppeteering them.

That thought makes me wonder if Michael or Paul can feel all this somewhere deep down. It's a fleeting thought, because I'm already lost in the experience of making out with the jerk of a stepfather while Sam enjoys playing with his bully of a brother.

God, these bodies are hot. By the time, Sam and I are done wearing them, Paul and Michael will be the hottest pair of messes in town...

#mind control #gay mind control #male transformation #gay ai art #gay possession #body swap #male body swap #body suit #body theft