Yes, I’m on a break from writing, but I feel like I need to chat about the absolute dread of reading so many fanfics. Whether it’s a ship or an x reader. You realise you’ve read nearly all of the works that appear under said tag, so you have to wallow in hell trying to scroll for one that you haven't read, or you just re-read the ones you’ve already read, but it doesn’t hit the same.
I’VE DONE THIS WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS THAT I’VE JUST ACCEPTED IT AND TALK TO MYSELF THAT AS SOON as I'm off my break, I'm going to write for all these characters.
When Riddle became a 4th year, he instated Deuce as Housewarden. Two weeks later, Ace challenged him for the title and won. A week after that, Deuce challenged Ace and then won. This back and forth has gone on the entire year. When one is Housewarden, the other is Vice Housewarden. They both have to go to every meeting because it is expected they will swap soon enough.
Deuce's rule is stricter than Ace's, but his punishments are always very lenient and situational. He makes a point to reinforce all of the Queen's rules- but he teaches them more like suggestions rather than a necessity. And in any case, Deuce doesn't quite remember all of the rules himself.
Ace's rule is very hands off. He'll help if he's asked, and he'll solve conflicts if they get out of hand. However, he leaves much of the students of Heartslabyul to their own devices. Under him, rules are only enforced during events in which the fourth years visit. Unfortunately, he is still under risk of getting collared if Riddle finds out just how lenient he is.
- Savanaclaw
Jack was given the title of Housewarden after Ruggie became a 4th year. Ruggie had been Housewarden the year after Leona graduated, with Jack as his vice. As a Housewarden, Jack imposes much more will on his students than Leona ever did. He's very direct and clear in orders, and is willing to punish those who break the rules. However, Jack is also all about self improvement, and will help anyone in need of it. Think Riddle, but mellowed out.
- Pomefiore
Epel was chosen as Housewarden at the beginning of second year. He is Pomefiore's greatest poison maker in the last century, and the captain of Spelldrive club. As a housewarden, Epel is very accommodating. He understands how Vil's influence helped him, yet also occasionally harmed his growth. Therefore, he chooses to let his students behave as they please, just so long as they follow basic decency. If he has to, he does step in. He pays close attention, so rarely does anything escape him.
- Ignihyde
Idia's Vice Housewarden had been a third year, so they had graduated together. Thus, Idia told his students to figure out the new Housewarden via who could crack a file he left the fastest. To no one's surprise, Ortho won. As a housewarden, Ortho is much more hands on than Idia ever was. With the knowledge of every bit of technological usage on campus, Ortho can monitor his students closely. He runs the dorm like a company of sorts, and helps every student grow in their skills.
- Diasomnia
Silver was chosen as Housewarden after Malleus left campus, and after him, Sebek. Sebek wants all of his students to succeed. He also wants all of his students to serve under the great Malleus Draconia as guards and servants. Therefore, the students of Diasomnia are often told to train rather than complete chores.
- Ramshackle
Yuu has not found any real ways to get home yet- only theories and ideas. However, they have, fortunately, become quite accustomed to Twisted Wonderland. They are known as the magicless Prefect of Night Raven College, and are a bit of a celebrity on campus. Ramshackle became an official dorm, so there was a flood of new students in second year. Yuu has retained their title of Housewarden, as when they are challenged, the champion they call to stand in their place is more often than not Malleus. Grim is living his best life- a successful student with lots of food and new henchmen. Although Yuu is treated like the sole Housewarden, due to their shared enrollment, Grim is also Housewarden of Ramshackle. The Ramshackle dorm is based on a spirit of adaptability.
Synopsis: Yummy polyamorous sex with the hideaway trio. 🥹 Sub!Clive x Dom!Jill x Dom!Cid
TW: none. Pure fluff + smut.
Word count: 1,475
Sorry if the lingo is a bit awkward. I kind of have a hard time writing it. Especially since this was my first FFXVI fic too.
“Hah… it’s too big… w’nt fit.” Clive rasped. Jill caressed the left side of his hair. “Awh, can’t take it, big boy?” Cid laughed as Jill inched inside with her strap. Following suit to Cid’s cock half-way in.
“You’re such a good boy, taking us so well, Clive.” Jill honeyed through her assault on his body. Kissing every inch of his neck, arms, chest, stomach, everywhere but where he was most vulnerable. Clive gripped the sheets like a lifeline. Holding onto the little glimpses of sanity left.
“S-shit.” Cid horsed, Clive was tight, if anything, but it was certainly much more sensible because Jill, too. Everything felt overwhelming for all three of them. It was hard to not appreciate the sight both Jill and Cid had in front of them. It took everything in them to focus and continue moving in Clive.
“What’re you waiting for? Y-you can move now. I can handle it.” Oh Clive, what a sweet puppy, he put on a show so they can move. “Hey, Jill, y’think he can handle it?” Jill glanced a smirk; thinking of the same thing. “Well… only one way to test that.”
As they moved in synchronization, Clive clenched the bed’s frame. “Oh god…” Jill began to massage his leg, and held it close. Almost halfway up her shoulder. Cid took time and force to ram into Clive. Making him ravage out; it took everything in him to not close his legs. Which would have been difficult with Jill practically harnessing his leg.
“I might start understanding what you find “cute” now, Jill.” Cid teased, as Clive glanced down; embarrassment flushing his face. “Right? His eyes are so pretty…” Jill continued. Clive was used to roughness, albeit a bit tough with two ramming in and out of him, but being dotted on? A new terrain. (Jill does— but I believe Clive had a lot of one-night stands and not a lot was Jill)
Clive reeled his head back, gasping, heaving heavily; barely began and he was already in shambles. “I guess he bit too big of a bone to chew, yeah, Jill?” Cid egged; noticing Clive’s disheveled state. “N-no, not true… j’st… getting used to you two now finally moving.” A bluff. A see-right-through bluff.
Jill chuckled softly, leaning in, not moving, but closing in on Clive. Lifting his leg over her shoulder, finally. “Well, Mr. Tough Guy, if you crack this easily I’m not sure we’re going to make it far before you break.” She mused. She was dangerous when she understood how to handle him. Clive had been wrapped around it since he could remember.
She hadn’t moved the strap, but the pressure of her body closing in, made Clive impossibly hot. Sweat glistened his skin, peering out to them. Cid dug out his cock, and rammed it carefully back in, with a little more effort and speed. Clive’s breath hitched, and Cid made no stops as he started to play with his right nipple.
It was the first noise to spew out of Clive’s throat. And surely not the last. “A-ah! A little rough, eh?” Clive tried smirking, with slimmed eyes narrowing at Cid. “I thought our big boy could handle it, startin’ to regret ‘yer words there?” He sly’d as he kept bruising Clive’s nipple.
Jill was kissing his forehead, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Clive barely registered it all with so much stimulation; he could be close, but it was hard to tell. He was on the brink of crying, and asking for more, but he needed to prove it to them that he could. Right now? He wasn’t.
“Jill… let me kiss you.” Clive demanded. As he earnestly closed his eyes as their lips crossed. Jill took no hesitation to lead the kiss, as Clive had a hard angle to kiss her. As she leaned in closer, raising one of her legs on the edge of the bed to make it easier for them to kiss. Cid lightly slapped Jill’s ass to move, as Jill glanced at Cid with a look of mutual agreement. As she continued to kiss Clive, she gripped his hips and softly rammed in him. Clive scrunched his eyebrows, shaking a little from the overstimulation.
“Lift up yer head, Clive.” Cid instructed, as Jill broke the kiss with a lock of her tongue swirling around his, Clive messily lifted his head up to chase her lips. Cid angled his body over Clive’s to adjust the pillow behind his head. Making it more comfortable for him, and easier for their kiss to ensue.
Jill inched forward, making Clive shiver as the strap burrowed inside him. Softly gripping Jill’s arm, he pulled back into her lips. Masking his noise with her tongue. As her tongue explored every crevice of his mouth, Cid started to assault his thigh with kisses. As they both methodically moved in sync, slowly sliding in and out, Clive was tipping over the edge.
“Move faster… y’re killing me here.” Clive instructed with hefty breaths. Jill nips at his collarbone, “patience, darling. We’re only beginning. No need to rush. Enjoy the moment.” Jill mumbled into Clive’s skin, almost engraving her voice. Cid grips Clive’s thigh; spreading it a little wider.
“I dunno… maybe we should give the pretty boy what he wants. Let’s see how long it’ll take before he’s ruined. I give three minutes. Tops.” Cid cocks his head with ego, egging on, as Clive sighs shakily. As much as Clive would like to prove the statement wrong, dead wrong, obscenely wrong, embarrassingly wrong— it might be right.
“Don’t tease him, Cid. He’s the one taking two dicks.” Jill leaned back to jab Cid’s right arm. Jill grazed her nails over Clive’s abs. Quivering muscles tenses under her. “S’good for us, Clive.” She cooed as she angled her hips to ram in him. Cid following pursuit.
“Fuck!” Clive mewled, gripping the sheets once more with more force. Noises spilled out more easily when they began picking up the pace. Clive’s face glistened with sweat; his bangs fluttering over his eyes. Sticking to the sides of his forehead. Jill peppered kisses on his thigh, as Cod gripped his other, while trailing shapes.
They both enamored as they watched Clive’s bliss. “Yes, shit, yes! Keep going, right there, please don’t stop!” He vocalized his pleas for them. “Didn’t even last two…” Cid chuckled softly to Jill. “Well you take two people up your arse and see how you fare, Cid.” Jill smirked at him. “Touché, love, touché.”
A few more deep and slow thrusts by them both made Clive feel backwards. “God! Hah… hah… hah…” Clive panted. As Cid and Jill helped him by riding through his high, spurts of cum plastered itself on Clive’s chest. “My, what a handsome load from a handsome hunk!” Cid gently pulled out of finishing on his own in the next few moments. “Fuuuuck… you take us so well, big boy.”
Jill rested Clive’s leg back down, grabbing a cloth from the nightstand, gently wiping him down. “Our Clive did more than just ‘well,’ he was amazing.” Jill peppered a few last kisses on his chest. After cleaning him up, he rose up to snuggle them both. “Next t’me; Cid's the bottom. Think I didn’t hear ‘ya cocky comments? You won’t be too much after you take my cock.” Clive took a small bite at the bottom of his ear.
“Ow! Down pup, I only meant it as dirty talk. You did fine. Sheesh… sensitive are you?” Cid sneered playfully, as Clive deadpanned. Jill chuckled a bit as she rubbed the back of Clive’s gruff hair. “I think we all need a shower and properly rinse off the gunk left over from our love-making.” Cid grumbled, not too keen on taking such a late shower, but knew not to tell Jill no about hygiene. Clive kissed her softly, as he got up, “I agree… I’m headed there down. You two can follow whenever. I stink.”
Cid and Jill both followed their favorite puppy to the shower. Each took their time enjoying the warm water trickling their hard work down the drain. Cid got done first, headed off to the bed they’ve made a scurry to love on. Not bothered by the sheets being dirty. Clive joined soon after. Plumping down on the same spot he was, a little grimaced by the dirtied sheets but too tired to care to do anything about it now. Jill was the last, and clearly most well-kept of the three. She took the right end of the bed and cuddled around Clive’s arm. As he snuggled his head over hers. Cid wrapped his arm under Clive and rested his head on his shoulder. They quickly succumbed to sleep not long after.
also really want to make a sub vil schoenheit fic because why not. that man was MADE to be pegged. maybe mirror sex? overstimulation? hair pulling? definitely milking him FOR SUREEEE
You had the audacity to break up with The Vil Schonehiet. I hope you’re ready to pay the consequences for your impudence.
This was self-indulgent because Vil is literally perfect and I wanna ruin that fine shyt.
Fem!reader x Vil Schonehiet
Boy, did this man know how to unnerve your mind. His pettiness knew no bounds; one might guess he’s hurt you broke up with him. The Vil Schoenheit, undone by a simple relationship. (He would want to say hookup but he’s too emotionally invested, you fake idgafer) At least it’s what he downplays it as. “They were to only pass the time, nothing less, nothing more.”
It didn’t cover up his late night yearns over your last texts as a couple being stared at for the millionth time. Cursing himself for getting so attached, after all he had far better things to prioritize than his hurt pride. Sure you got away— but it was you who lost.
At least it’s all he’s been telling himself so he doesn’t feel like shit. It was you who broke up with him, too!!! That was not how it was supposed to go, he was going to break up with you, but he couldn’t. You took away his limelight and he was not happy.
A lot of started with him just bundled up in festered frustrations. Who did you think you were?! Do you realize that you’re literally letting The Vil Schonehiet go? It wasn’t fair, you seemed fine, so why is he the one rotting?
Vil was the definition of hot and cold. One day he’d snare at the very presence of you, damning you to hell with just a glance. Then the next… well, he’d let you sit near him. Resting his head on the back wood of the trees, occasionally giving you some advice about your current worries. He was almost unpredictable but a certain hunter knew him inside out more than him, sent a little birdie saying he missed you.
Vil despised feeling like this. Not because he didn’t deny he was hurt, but because he couldn’t do anything to shake off the nerving annoyance that other people now had a chance with you. He’s not jealous; especially because he’s the golden standard, nobody can rival him.
Although you were so giving, and easygoing, willing to let your heart guide you to wherever it drew. A tinge of envy sprouted itself in young Schonehiet, wishing to taste that freedom, to also enjoy letting go. It’s why he chased you in order to court you to be his girlfriend.
Now that you let go? He couldn’t carry the same regal energy that he did before. You were his undoing, but he’ll never speak of it. He’d rather die before letting go of his pride. It wasn’t fair, you cut it off saying he was too exhausting. That he’s overly critical, and only paid attention to her bad sides.
He wasn’t wrong, you really did need to get in shape and learn to properly care for your skin! Only the best intentions made him so passionate to make sure you’re at your best. She spoke with understanding that she did, but a wilt of self-consciousness made her insecure. “Vil… I know you’re only looking out for my best interest, but it just felt like I was a project to critique.”
Yeah that went well over Vil. A borderline argument insured the moment you decided to even confront Vil about his antics. You could understand, so why is it such an issue? Vil didn’t quite understand, because he didn’t, you knew you had to break it off. He was so stubborn at times where it made you feel like you were losing your mind.
It was hard, but you knew that if he didn’t? You’d go insane.
The first two weeks didn’t feel like a bother to either of you. You were shocked you weren’t getting hammered about breaking up with him from everyone. You’d think certain people say you’d lost a great asset, a perfect villa for a posh life. Other certain people would berate you for just thinking you could. To Vil?! Absurd. You really had lost your mind.
Yet, nothing.
For him, people knew to never get on his case. Expect for one socially adept hunter, who just haaad to give his inputs to Vil. “Rois De Poison, dare I say, your heart has grown soft. A tiny hint of poison has fallen on our Queen!” It took everything for Vil to not kill him right then and there.
It sucked for more Vil than you, but it’s because you had time to adjust, you’re the one who broke up with him after all. Of course you’re alright. He dare not say it, but he was in shambles. Really, where do you get off? Blasted for how you made him feel. Somebody of his fairness should not be condemned to feel so rotten.
Whenever you two crossed paths, he was either scorning you to the point where if he could, he would scorch you down to the bareness of the earth. His glare became 10x more intense, truly poisonous. “Here to blotch my mood with your presence? You haven’t tainted me enough? You just had to show up and gnaw at my peace?”
Yeah, Vil was not handling you breaking up with him well. He was downright pissy. You fought to retaliate, maybe make him take back how offensive he is, but he’d just turn tail and go in the opposite direction. His pristine visage scraped the ground with such eloquence it made you rethink how he’s so vile inside, or how it felt.
I’m probably never finishing this so you guys can have this unfinished draft I had sitting in my drafts for almost a year. I love Vil a lot but I could argue this is a little too ooc for me to finish. I might just redo it. Because I love the concept of petty Vil. 🤡
I think The Apothecary Diaries might have to take spot #1 or close to it for "anime I would show someone who doesn't watch anime and is wary of it."
It's interesting and engaging right away and is an all-around good story
there's next to no "anime bullshit" (like boob antigravity, screaming while running at someone, overpowered fights, character archetypes, "winning through the power of friendship", harem dynamics... That kind of thing)
It's not heavy on the Japanese culture references that a Western audience couldn't understand without some weeb research
Does a good job of showcasing anime's strengths: telling hard-hitting stories in an approachable way with lovable characters
Has a little bit of what makes anime unique and fun, in doses that probably won't scare away someone who's new and wary - ie chibi moments, Maomao's cat ears, etc
TAD has kept its momentum better than Spy x Family, which is another contender (imo) for top spot in this category; it's less violent and arguably starts quicker than Dungeon Meshi; it builds momentum quicker and is less violent and more modern than FMAB or cowboy bebop; it's more playful and immediately engaging than Frieren. Not that it's necessarily a better or worse show than any of these on the whole (that's a different post) but boy is it good for beginners.
Obviously, which anime people should start with will depend on their interests, violence tolerance, anime bullshit tolerance, access, sub/dub preference etc, but I'm just saying I've shown this to a few people who were brand new to anime and they loved it 👀
I wish the Apothecary Diaries would give me some kind of blunt indication that Maomao returns Jinshi's affections and isnt just putting up with them because he's her boss.
Like I love the series, and I'm a huge romcom fan (shoujo manga is my bread and butter). I'm 100% ready to be invested in this ship.
But when the shows contains a lot of themes about power dynamics and the way class & gender intersect with that, and then the female lead does not express any interest in her boss's non stop advances...idk. It just does not mix well with the rest of the story for me.
I do like that last line that can be interpreted 2 different ways ("yappari kirei" could mean "it [the stiches] really are clean" or "he [jinshi] really is beautiful") but come on. I need more than that to be ok with the kind of stuff Jinshi is doing to her.
AO3 is exiting open beta! Learn more about how far we've come since launching open beta, our future plans for improvement, and what you can do to contribute at https://otw-news.org/4w2dn3tc
Vincent went through all the effort of sleeping for 30 years to «atone» when he could have just gotten into BDSM. Oh, you’re afraid of your monsters getting out of control? Get a dom to discipline you. You want to be punished? A good dom will do that for you.
Though this post is meant as a joke, I do genuinely believe Vincent would benefit from being in a dom/sub relationship. There’s my initial reasoning above, and also it would mean Vincent would have someone looking out for him and making sure he takes care of himself, because this man neglected himself for 30 years in a way he could only get away with because of his freaky immortality. Vincent wanted to punish himself to atone for what he considers to be his sins, and without his friends and meaningful connections he would probably regress to that state of mind.
In a dom/sub relationship, Vincent being «punished» would go from self-neglect to a meaningful connection with a partner he feels safe with. If he starts viewing himself as a monster, he can comfort himself with the knowledge that he can be tamed by his partner.
Though mostly I just want to see Vincent be dommed gently
^ Pictured above: Wingboi on his knees, where he belongs. That's the face you make when your crush isn't paying attention to you.
Sephiroth's ukeboi energy in Rebirth is off the charts. 🤤
"ur heading to the Gold Saucer with ur friends? Oh… okay. But don't forget about ME!"
"look I skewered a big snake for you, Strife-senpai!"
"look I can do a handstand!"
"notice me, Strife-senpai!"
"noooo don't look at Aerith and Tifa, look at me, Strife-senpai! im ur best gurl!!!!"
"don't forget about MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!1!1!!!"
Oh, and my favorite bit from OG FFVII? Sephy boi literally cosplaying as Cloud Strife's love interest just to get his attention:
idk, maybe he's just jealous of Cloud getting all the pussy? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
"but, but… I'm confused. seffy is a dom, don'tcha know?"
bro spends all of his time post-insanity brooding over Cloudy not paying enough attention to him, and you seriously think he's the dominant one?
seffy boi tries SO HARD to beat Cloud with every trick in the book (gaslighting, killing one of his closest friends, going Jenova super saiyan) and STILL FUCKING FAILS to win...
and
you
think
he's
a dom?
😂😂😂
🫀 hate sex, sub (a bit switchy. bratty?) floyd, femdom, objectification(?), denial, riding, facesitting, 69
🫀 this takes place during the lost in the book with stitch event! this one is more recent but i was writing it during a huuuge writer’s block and it may or may not be obvious. also i know in the event they can’t take off their clothes but i really don’t care. sorry i like guy tits. anyway!
You were beyond frustrated.
Getting stranded on an island was already annoying enough, but everything else was just piling on; what the hell do you mean there are aliens? Sure, the little blue one was cute and helpful and made the bungalow to sleep in so you didn’t have to get eaten alive by mosquitoes any more than you did, but he was also so energetic and so exhausting… and the other alien was flat-out just trying to rid you and your classmates with robot sharks. Absolutely lovely.
You were also tired of fruit already. You normally loved it, but having it with every meal each day was just rough. Your jaw was sore from chewing coconut, your tongue felt raw from eating pineapple, and you had no taste for more berries and fish. You just wanted a nice steak at this point—rare, so it would be easier on your jaw.
And more, you’ve felt more pent up than you thought was necessary after a few days. Normally when you were on vacation, you would just take care of yourself in the shower if you needed. Here, you have absolutely no chance. None of you were supposed to wander off alone, especially you, being the only one without magic to fight for yourself, so that was off the table. You couldn’t sneak away because someone would eventually find you, whether it be Gantu and his shark bots, one of your schoolmates, or Stitch. You didn’t feel comfortable doing it late at night, either; what if someone hears? How could you even clean up afterwards?
Again, beyond frustrated.
The outfits that everyone were put in certainly didn’t help. You didn’t think you would be one to stare, but you really couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself. It was like that book was just taunting you when it did it. Did Riddle’s shirt have to be tied up like that? Put up just enough to make you want to pick him up by the waist and carry him off to who-knows-where?
Admittedly, you had originally thought your sights would be set on Jack—his outfit really didn’t leave much to the imagination… however, most of your attention was drawn to Floyd.
…Has he always looked like that? Sure, you’ve seen his arms during his basketball games, but (pardon your vulgarity) when the fuck did he get massive tits?
How does he even hide it? Is it just because he wears baggy shirts? Are you an idiot? You feel like an idiot.
You really couldn’t help your staring, or your mind wandering. You silently cursed the universe for it. Why it had to be right now that you see him, when you can’t even do anything about your frustrations, you had no clue.
Yet another night rolls around and you have to sit by the bonfire again, you have to force your eyes to stay on the flames again, you have to constantly bounce your leg in your seat to distract yourself again. You hadn’t said a word in what felt like hours, but it wasn’t much of an issue—everyone else filled in the silence just fine.
Even as it grew later and some of the others slowly trickled back into the bungalow for bed, you stayed put and quiet. You, Floyd, Lilia, and Ace remained—the usual night owls. The other three continued to entertain each other, and sand eventually ended up getting thrown at Ace. Normally you’d laugh, but right now you actually couldn’t give a fuck about your surroundings.
Only when it felt like your eyes would take damage did you finally tear them away from the fire… and immediately to the sand. It really felt like something was wrong with you, you just could not think about anything else. You wanted to see how he’d look with his wrists handcuffed to your bed (or even behind his back), how he’d look on his knees, how he’d look in bondage.
You wondered if he would be good at eating pussy. He looked like he would be. Or maybe not. Maybe you’re just delusional. Maybe you could teach him how to, if he doesn’t. Maybe you could teach him until it’s all he ever wants to do, to bury his face between your thighs, to slowly circle his tongue around your clit just the way you like.
You shifted slightly in your seat on the makeshift bench (it was just a log, but whatever), you could almost feel his tongue on you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to fight off the dull throb between them, the mental image of your hand in his hair burned into your brain. How much longer do you have to be stuck on this island like this?
You’re just curious is all. You’re just curious as to how he’d react if you rode his dick even after he’d already came, how much he’d squirm if you just sit there and edge him until he can’t even properly speak, how he’d—
“So ya stare at me almost the entire time we’re here, ‘n’ now ya won’t look at me?”
Floyd’s abrupt voice forced you back to reality, your attention snapping up to him from across the fire. You immediately realize Lilia and Ace were gone—when did they go to bed? You didn’t even notice.
You blinked at him, silent for a few moments. You thought you were being discreet enough. Still, you don’t really care much to fully deny it. How do you even respond to that?
“…I dunno.” you eventually murmured with a halfhearted shrug. You looked him in the eyes, and you still couldn’t stop yourself from imagining them welling with tears of pleasure as you…
Man, you really need to knock it off. Maybe you should schedule a therapy session soon, this can’t be normal.
He giggled in response, a wolfish grin on his face. “What, d’ya want something?”
Yes. Obviously. Is he stupid? No, he’s not, he probably knew. He totally knew. You wish you could go just one day without something poking fun at you. Fuck that book, fuck the universe, fuck Floyd. For the love of all things holy, fuck Floyd.
“Nope.” You tried to play it all off, you truly did, but it just wouldn’t work. Of course, that only made him want to prod even more.
“Your poker face sucks, Shrimpy.” he drawled.
“I dunno, your necklaces.” you lied. Curse your pride. “They’re dumb as hell and they’re loud and jangly when you move.”
His humored snort irritated you to no end, but you still managed to keep a straight face. “Really? I think they’re pretty cool.” He glanced down at the array of necklaces dangling from his neck and brushed a hand against them, just to hear the clanking of the fake pearls.
“They’re not.” Really, they looked like something you’d buy from a party store. You think, at least. You can’t really remember the last time you went to a party store.
“Should I take ‘em off, then?” He then bunched the necklaces in his hand.
“No,” you replied almost too quickly, “just saying they’re stupid.”
And of course, Floyd just ignored you and pulled them up over his head anyway, giving you a better view of his body through his open shirt. Okay, now that’s just mean. Is he making fun of you? He has to be.
Your eyes flickered down to the necklaces tossed haphazardly on the sand, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You didn’t know if you wanted to pounce on him so you could fuck him or so you could throw him into the fire.
You swear your mouth was going to start bleeding from how much you were biting the insides of your cheeks.
“You’re mad if I don’t wear ‘em now.”
It had absolutely nothing to do with the necklaces, and you knew he knew that, too. “I really don’t care.”
“Then look at me ‘n’ tell me what the problem is.”
You wanted to roll your eyes until he suddenly snapped his fingers to try and get your attention back on him.
The pure disrespect—you’re not a dog. He’s more of a dog than you ever will be, and you’ll put a leash on him to prove it if you have to.
“Snap at me like that again and you’re losing your fingers.” Truly, you didn’t have the patience for that tonight. Or any night.
“Are ya gonna bite ‘em off? Scary.” His sarcasm made you want nothing more than to shut him up in any way you could. Choke him, gag him, sit on his face, cover his mouth, anything. Just take a deep breath and calm yourself. “C’mere so I can hear ya better. The fire’s too loud.”
Oh, for the love—
“Fine.” You then stood and trudged around the fire so you could sit yourself next to him on that uncomfortable log. Stitch could build an entire bungalow, several blankets, pillows, even sleep masks all from scratch, but he couldn’t make a few couches or chairs out here? Really?
“Now,” he hummed as he leaned against your shoulder, “what’s got ya so mad, Shrimpy?”
It would probably be a good idea to shove him off, but your thoughts were a bit too obstructed right now. “I’m not.”
“Seem mad to me. Are ya mad at me?” You could feel his eyes burning into you, though you still stared at the sand below. Just don’t pay attention to him or his head on your shoulder.
“No.” you mumbled through gritted teeth.
“Then whaddya—“
“Just—just this!” You abruptly pushed him off and grabbed a handful of his shirt, giving it a harsh yank. You blatantly ignored his sharp inhale of surprise and his widened eyes. “What the fuck is this? You show up in this and I just have to try to act normal?!”
Floyd was silent for a few beats before a toothy grin slowly stretched on his face. “…So that’s what this’s about?”
“Yes,” you hissed, “that’s what this’s about. When the hell’d you even start looking like that? Have you always looked like that?”
“Like what?”
“You—you know how!” You just wanted to absolutely throttle him right now, and all he’s doing is smiling and snickering.
He grabbed your wrist and moved it to push your palm into his chest, and all you could pay attention to was how easily your fingers sunk into the flesh. Fuck’s sake. “Like that?”
“Obviously.” You didn’t hesitate to give a tight squeeze—you really didn’t have a reason to restrain yourself anymore.
Floyd visibly suppressed a wince, his fingers twitching around your wrist. “I mean—“
“I don’t actually care.” Your hands continued to aimlessly wander around his chest, his torso, his arms. Maybe you were overwhelming him, you weren’t paying much attention.
He never stopped you, though, so there’s that at least. “Got handsy quick, Shrimpy.” he mused as you squeezed and felt around his shoulders.
“Shut up.”
“‘Kay.” And then he swatted your hands away and slid himself onto the sand, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your shorts.
“…Hell’re you doing?” Despite the irritation in your voice, you still lifted your hips to aid him in tugging your shorts down. You weren’t just gonna not do that and blueball (Bluepussy? Blueclit? Whatever) yourself.
“What’s it look like? I’m shutting up.” He kept eye contact as he guided your thighs apart before leaning in, using his teeth to grab the edge of your panties and tug them down. He didn’t bother to look and see what the book had decided to put on you, and neither did you. It could’ve been the best lingerie you’ve ever seen or the ugliest pair that you’d find at an old thrift store, you didn’t know nor care.
He lazily pulled your thighs onto his shoulders. It wasn’t much longer until his tongue slowly dragged over your clit, and you were unable to stop your body from tensing. His tongue felt weirdly soft and long—is that just a merfolk thing? Oh, who cares, it feels good.
The moment your hand slid itself into his hair, he immediately dove in. His lips latched on and he gently suckled on your clit, his tongue swirling with newfound vigor in a way that had your hips involuntarily squirming against his face.
“F-fucking slow down—“ you managed to gasp out before slapping your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your own choked moans and squeals. You really didn’t want to wake anyone up, even if they were inside the bungalow.
Floyd deliberately disregarded your words and let out a small hum against you, the vibrations making your thighs clamp around his head. Despite your earlier thoughts, you couldn’t exactly tell whether he was actually good at it or not; he was just doing whatever he felt like, no organized movements. It worked, at least.
Your orgasm was building a lot quicker than you would’ve liked. You tried and tried again to tug him back by the hair, yet he refused to let up. His hands grabbed onto your hips to hold you in place, his tongue keeping its steady pace. You were just about to cum, until he stopped altogether.
He pulled away with a taunting chortle while you twitched and squirmed from the unsatisfying denial.
“…Dickhead.” You planted a foot on the center of his chest, shoved him onto his back and kicked some sand at him—just for good measure.
You didn’t give him time to respond before plopping yourself on top of him to straddle his hips.
“What, whaddya gonna do?” What you wanted was to beat that smile off his face, but you couldn’t really do that, could you?
The moment Floyd’s hands found your waist, you tugged them off with an absentminded ‘don’t touch me.’
His grin immediately dropped into a pout, still trying and failing to get his grip on you again. “C’mon, Shrimpy, don’t be mean…” he whined, planting his feet in the sand in an attempt to grind his clothed cock into you.
Oh, the audacity of this man. “Stop squirming.”
“I’m not squirming!”
“You are!”
“I’m just getting comfortable.”
“Well, knock it off, the stupid button on your shorts hurts.”
”Then take ‘em off—“
You gave a swift smack to his chest before he could finish his growled demand. “Don’t even try that with me right now.”
The smack made him writhe a bit more with a small huff. “…Do that again.”
And so you did without hesitation, delivering another equally-as harsh slap to his skin, which drew an odd cackle from him.
“Thanks, Miss Shrimpy.” he said way too gleefully for your tastes as he bucked up against you again.
You wanted to grimace at the name, but your attention was quickly brought back to his grinding. “I said quit that.” you mumbled, finally making a move to unbuckle and open his belt.
“You take forever.” Floyd complained, not wasting another second before helping to tug his shorts down enough for his dick to spring out. He grabbed your hips again to try and pull you onto himself. “Now get on, get on, get on, get on…”
And you didn’t let him, just yet. You kept your hands firm on his chest to hold yourself up. “I’m not getting on after what you did.”
“Aw, c’mon!” he whined, “I was being nice. I could’ve been a lot worse!”
Now, how the hell was edging you nice? Whatever. You didn’t answer him, because why should you?
You grind your pussy down against his dick, your slow pace almost agonizing for him (and yourself, but his impatient desperation was a lot more important than yours right now).
It was only a few rolls of your hips before they were grabbed forcefully with a low whimper from Floyd. “Okay, I get it, Shrimpy, I get it.” His fingers dug into your skin, hoisting you up to hover over his aching cock. “Just do it already.”
“I’m not gonna—“
“Please?”
That made your jaw tense a bit. “…’Please,’ what?”
“Please fuck me?”
You hardly even registered what you were doing before you finally let your hips sink down, slowly taking in his dick. The low whine drawn out from him almost made your breath falter, and your fingers twitched against his chest with each inch.
You had to keep still for a few seconds after bottoming out to adjust, because by God he felt bigger than you were anticipating.
Predictably, he wasn’t very patient once he was inside. “Shrimpy, are you gonna move? Please? Please move, please, please—“
“Would you just sh-shut up?” Despite your best efforts, your voice was a bit shaky while your body got used to the feeling.
“I’m just askin’ ya to move!” Again, he attempted to squirm underneath you until you smacked his chest, his hand shooting to cover his mouth and suppress a whimper.
“Yeah, yeah, be patient…” After a few moments, you let yourself slowly lift your hips before abruptly slamming them back down, the feeling of his dick immediately hitting your sensitive g-spot forcing a sharp gasp from you—fuck, it was like he was just made for your pussy. Was that even possible? You almost wanted to ask if you could get a custom toy modeled after it.
Later, though.
“No, no, don’t stop right now, Shrimpy…” His arms wrapped around your waist and you’re suddenly pinned against his chest as he pounded into you from below.
Is this guy allergic to going slow?
You weren’t even given the opportunity to reply before your hair was tugged back and his mouth was on yours, muffling any noises either of you made as his tongue slipped its way past your lips.
Again, his tongue felt so strange, so foreign against yours. Not unpleasant in the slightest, you almost wished you’d kissed him sooner than now; it just felt good.
Until it was forced down your throat. You didn’t know if he just got overly excited but it really just felt like he was trying to facefuck you with his tongue, tears pricking your eyes while you tried to suppress a gag. You struggled in his grasp, overwhelmed with both the lack of air and his cock slamming into you harder than you could process, and he snickered into the ‘kiss.’
You finally managed to squirm free and broke away to gasp for breath, planting your hips down harsh enough to pin his own to the sand. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” you managed between your panting.
“My bad.” Nothing about his demeanor was apologetic, though—not his tone, not his grin, not his hands already trying to lift your hips again.
“That’s not an apology.”
“Sorry, Miss Shrimpy.”
A swift slap to his face. “What’d I tell you about that?”
“Sorry.”
To your own mild surprise, your hand wrapped around his throat with a squeeze, though what surprised you even more was that he was just letting you.
You didn’t ask why.
Your eyes narrowed and your hips slowly ground down, trying not to pay too much attention to how your clit rubbed against his skin. “Why can’t you just be fucking respectful?”
“I said I was sorry!” he pouted, his voice scratchy from your choking him.
“Are you really sorry?”
Floyd nodded with a whine. “Yeah, sorry, I get it, just go faster…” He tugged you up again and you allowed it. “You forgive me, right, Shrimpy?”
You didn’t want to, but whatever; you just wanted to cum at that point. “Fine.”
At that, his hands guided your hips to slam down against his again. He let his own moans flow freely, though his smile made it obvious that they were exaggerated just to further piss you off. “Shrimpy, it feels so good…”
“Quit that, y-you’ll wake someone up.” You gave his neck another squeeze in warning.
“That’s their problem! Not like they didn’t already know ya wanted to fuck me.”
You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment at the thought—you really hoped nobody else actually noticed your staring. “…Shut up.” You used your hand on his chest for better leverage to pound his cock harder.
Floyd’s breath caught, his head thrown back as he tried to match your pace. His jaw clicked shut with a curse through his teeth, unable to get out any more words to taunt you with.
A few more moments, and he was already throbbing inside you from his impending orgasm. “Sh-Shrimpy—“
“Nope.” You immediately lift yourself off enough for his dick to slip out, twitching from the sudden loss of stimulation.
“What, no? No, no no no, no ‘no,’ don’t ‘no…’” he babbled as a panic immediately set in. He tried to force you back down, his hips surging up to no avail. “I said I was sorry! I did, Shrimpy!”
His hands were tugged away again and you shifted atop of him, crawling your way up his body before turning around to hover your cunt above his tearful face. “Make it up to me, then.”
Without a moment of hesitation, Floyd yanked you down. His tongue delved and writhed in desperation with mumbles of ‘sorry’ and ‘promise,’ each vibration from his begging making your thighs twitch around his head.
It was better (albeit more frantic) the second time around, which you were appreciative for.
His dick trembled and leaked with precum in front of you, crying more than he himself was. “There, good boy…” you hummed, your fingers wrapping around him to give a few leisurely strokes.
Another whine from him and his tongue shoved itself inside you. Sure, getting tonguefucked works, too, you supposed.
You leaned down to press a few kisses along his length, his hips instantly bucking up against your face. “Chill out.” you hissed, trying to hold him down.
“Wanna cum…” It took a few moments, but he eventually relented and kept still.
“Me first.” With that, you allowed his tip to push past your lips. Normally you’d take more than that, but you really didn’t feel like it. It’s not like he needed anything more, anyway.
Or deserved anything more.
His response was to pump his tongue deeper into your pussy, only pulling it out to swirl at your clit every few moments.
You tried to keep your focus on pulling your mouth off his tip each time he started twitching again, but it was getting so, so hard to with the knot in your core rapidly tightening.
You didn’t bother to warn him before your thighs involuntarily squeezed around his head and your vision went white, your hand returning over your mouth to quiet down your own sounds that didn’t really sound quite like yourself.
Once you were at least somewhat aware of your surroundings again, you felt a hand roughly grasp your hair and his dick forced down your throat again. You weren’t even able to catch your breath first, how rude.
Floyd only needed to pump a few more times, the feeling of his cum shooting at the back of your throat making you flinch atop of him and instinctively swallow. You hardly noticed his panting and his whiny thank you’s when you pull off, finally gasping for air.
“…Ask to do that next time.” you grumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist as you slid yourself off of him to fetch your clothes from wherever they’d been thrown.
“I know, I know, sorry! It was taking forever!” It almost annoyed you that he was able to just zip right back up and buckle his belt in no time, while you had to slip everything on again. It would’ve been great if the book gave you more accessible clothes, but fine. “I’ll make ya somethin’ good tomorrow, Shrimpy. Iunno, I’ll catch a different fish than everyone else for ya in the morning. It’ll be a big one, too.”
“Mhm, sure, let’s just wash off in the water.”
“Nope! Don’t feel like it. I wanna go to bed.”
“Then you can go do that, I’m washing—“
“Nope!” He scooped you up in his arms, deliberately locking you against himself to keep you from moving as he trudged his way back up to the bungalow. “Bedtime.”
You grimaced. “Ulch, we're all sticky, though.”
“Yep. Maybe we’ll wake up stuck together in the morning ‘n’ everyone else’ll have to peel us apart.”
I love having morals and knowing drink = non-consensual in any means but god I love reading about drunk smut with favorite characters. Like I’d never do it, and I’ll never force anybody in that kind of situation, but man is it addictive to fantasize about it. Don’t you just love being a hypocrite?
