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tojisun · 6 months

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thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???

ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!

naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.

simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.

“what?”

“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”

he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.

(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)

he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.

“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.

“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.

“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.

“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”

it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.

“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.

you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”

they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.

simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.

“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”

“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.

his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.

you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.

“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.

simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.

the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.

“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.

simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.

he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.

“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”

he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”

they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.

you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.

you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.

the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”

the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.

“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.

“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”

“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.

his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”

“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.

the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”

the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”

the phrase hits you badly.

your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”

he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”

“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”

the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.

“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.

“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.

he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.

you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”

he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.

“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.

“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”

the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”

simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?

simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.

…alex?

“wait. that’s alex?”

best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!

me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #anon #ask #suns #deviously screaming!! i love scary ghost but a sweetheart to his girl <333 thank u sm anon for this i hope u like it hhhhh

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psqqa · 8 months

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yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.

phoenix wright

phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright

phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people’s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright

phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright

phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright

phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright

phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright

phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright

phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright

phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright

just

phoenix wright

crunchiest man in the world

and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him

#ace attorney #where are all the people gnawing on phoenix's bones so white??#i need to find the phoenix bone-gnawing corner of this fandom PLEASE #this is me asking for the Phoenix Fic btw #where is the fic meditating on phoenix's whole mental state in general?#where is the fic about how it's phoenix's cageyness and poker face and flat affect under stress that is the hurdle?#the relationship ramifications of being actually really fucking hard to read when it comes down to it?#where is the fic about the week of his disbarment?#the one detailing the panicked blow by blow of it rippling through his social circle while he stands in the eye of the storm?#the one that ends messy and anxious and unresolved because it's week 1 of 7 years?#where is the birth of phoenix wright: poker legend fic?#where is the art school/theatre major phoenix fic?#no not the able to art/act phoenix fic but the kind of person who chooses to go to art school/study theatre phoenix fic #where is the supremely disinterested in pop culture phoenix fic?#where is the actually incredibly meticulous and competent phoenix fic?#capcom can tell me all they want that he's essentially an adhd disaster flying by the seat of his pants making it all up as he goes #but that's not what they're actually showing me #they're the ones who created an in-fiction legal system that functionally necessitates that #and the nature of the game is that phoenix is almost always proven right so rather than him coming off as hare-brained #his opponents rather just come off as short-sighted. either negligently or maliciously so #and the choices the writing makes in service of retaining mystery and audience suspense in fact function to make phoenix a person #who is astute and puts the pieces together but is cautious in his conclusions #i will grant them that phoenix does tend to lose sight of his overarching goal in getting drawn into proving or disproving minor points #the fact that edgeworth on the other hand never loses sight of this or where the various arguments stand in relation to it #is his sexiest trait as a character by far #but those minor points are actually functionally critical to the ultimate argument phoenix makes #so even though i do read that trait through the game mechanics i do also judge the other characters for being dicks about it #my point is phoenix wright does in fact have the character of a lawyer and is conventionally good at his job fucking fight me #my point is that you all have had 20 goddamn years to Rotate this man #my POINT is that there should be Intricate Fucked Up Meditations On Phoenix that rewire my fucking brain and i NEED to know where they are!

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️

Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together.

He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.

He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then.

He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.”

Your voice is still stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest.

He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…”

Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.” All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning.

“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he was hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.”

A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.”

You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit.

A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?”

“Mhm.”

The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.”

“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…don’t thank me yet.”

A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”

“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”

You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening.

“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the paper?”

For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says.

He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.”

Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you.

“Sure, let’s try.”

“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”

“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.”

But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone.

“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?”

The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs.

“Spence?”

“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.”

“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.”

Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?”

“No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.”

He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.”

You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink. “Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it.

“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?”

Spencer winces. “Not really…”

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.”

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celesteleoves · 10 months

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“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him.

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly.

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food.

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me?

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed.

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission.

— I don’t want to kill you.

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch.

— Are you going to rape me?

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this.

— Nein. Thought I told you already.

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you.

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time.

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one.

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible.

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked.

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask?

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable.

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed.

— I won’t kill you.

— But you will hurt me.

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling.

No, he doesn’t.

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips.

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it?

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips.

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job.

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned.

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift.

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja?

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base.

— I…I did.

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to.

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his.

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice.

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become.

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones.

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you.

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise.

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck.

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him.

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him.

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that. He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #lego

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aliaology · 6 months

Text

DOROTHEA

summary: jack and luke talking about their older sister, who they’ll forever cherish even if shes all the way in vancouver with quinn. their talk brings up memories that will forever be theirs.

almost a sequel of my “never grow up” fic 🤍

hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me?

growing up, jack always looked up to big siblings. each holding a special place in his heart. but both of them we’re different. quinn was the one he went to about hockey, girls, and school. y/n was the one he went to for almost everything else.

maybe it was because of how she was always overprotective of him, quinn and luke. he felt closest to her. it was clear she was the favorite, for each brother.

“do you think y/n thinks about us a lot?” luke asked when she went off to college. jack gave luke a look. “of course she does, moron. it’s not like she could forget us.”

luke shrugged. “i just miss her.”

when we were younger, down in the park, honey making a lark of the misery.

“do you think y/n stops to think about us? like— do you think she sees something like the color red and think about us?” luke asked, sitting next to jack.

jack held a picture frame of him, luke, quinn and her on her highschool graduation day.

“maybe not that much— but i like to think she does.” jacks eyes flickered to luke then back to the picture.

luke let out a sigh. “do you remember the summer before she went to college? almost every other day she would take us to the park to just, forget. forget that she would be leaving.”

jack quietly laughed. “i can’t forget that. highlight of my summer, along with you tripping every time you climbed the rock wall and fell”

luke slapped his brothers arm. “fuck off”

you got shiny new friends since you left town. a tiny screens the only place i see you now. and i got nothing but well wishes for you.

jacks shoulders moved along with his laughter. then it went quiet. “i miss her. i hate that we only see her through a tiny screen.” he spoke.

“at least we can still see her. im jealous of quinn though.” luke added.

jack shrugged. “i am but im not. we got her for a few years, it was his turn now.”

“yeah— but permanently.” luke told.

the two stopped talking. looking at the picture. their older sister smiling happily at the camera with her arms wrapped around jack and luke. quinn stood on the end, arm wrapped around jack.

she stuck out like a sore thumb in the picture. her bright blue graduation gown and bright blue cap was a huge contrast to the mix of whites, blacks, reds and greens the boys wore.

along with her height. the heels she wore made her tower over the boys.

hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me? when it was calmer, skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes.

laughter flooded through the quiet park. heels clicked against the sidewalk in a fast pace along with three other sets of feet running behind.

“moms so gonna kill you, sissy!” luke laughed.

you hunched over, hands on your knees as you caught your breath. luke leaned onto you, trying to catch his breath as jack and quinn stifled their laughs.

“she spent so much on this dress, and these damn— heels!” you spoke, struggling to get them off.

“not to mention the ticket!” jack added, grabbing your hand to help you stay steady as you took off the heels.

“i still don’t understand why you ditched, and why you dragged us along” quinn spoke.

“if a hughes goes down, we all do” you gave a toothy grin.

jack smiled softly as he helped you out. luke held your side, stabilizing you so you could get the heel off.

your long green dress clung to your body. the necklace you wore made its way into jacks pocket and was replaced with the necklace he got you for your birthday.

your ‘pearl’ bracelet was replaced with the bracelet luke made. and your ‘pearl’ ring was replaced with the ring quinn gave you. every nice piece of jewelry was replaced with one that actually meant something to you, whether they were pretty or not. (cough lukes beaded bracelet)

you pulled the pins out of your hair, along with the fake pearls and diamonds. you took the long clip that held your hair, out and shook your head.

“thank god im out of that. i love mom but god it felt like she was preparing me for a pageant.” you laughed.

in that moment, all brothers adored you. adored how you clearly cared for them. “lets head home now” you smiled.

but its never too late to come back to my side, the stars in your eyes shined brighter in tupelo. and if you’re ever tired for being known for who you know, you know you’ll always know me.

jackhughes

liked by ynhughes, lhughes_06 and 362,726 others

jackhughes vancouver may be fun, but i miss you, so come back.

tagged: ynhughes

comments

ynhughes i miss u more kid ☹️❤️

jackhughes so come back!

ynhughes its not that easy babes

jackhughes so make it easy lol

user14 im sobbing bring y/n back

user17 come back y/n jacky needs u

user97 BRING THE GANG BACK TOGETHER 😭😭

_quinnhughes i finally get my sister time and you want her back?

jackhughes yeah 😁😁

_quinnhughes gtfo

lhughes_06 this is true, i agree

jackhughes uh yeah id hope so

ynhughes guys pls 😞😞

user61 this is so 😭😭😭😭

trevorzegras bring hot stuff back!!!

jackhughes shes five years older than you, give it a rest 😒😒😒

trevorzegras never back down never what?

colecaulfied NEVER GIVE UP 😱😱😱😱

user73 i miss the hughes siblings together

user15 maybe vancouver will be good for her. maybe she’ll find a boyfriend

trevorzegras NO.

user82 trevor i love u 🥰

user27 i feel like any sad taylor song about growing up or even her friends like dorothea, could relate to them and y/n

tags: (perm) @hockeyboysarehot (just ask if you’d like perm tags <3 )

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #trevor zegras #hughes sister #hughes

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under-lok-n-ki · 6 months

Text

Captain Ava & Captain Lizzie

literally cannot wait until we get more development on this plot bc it’s so so good

also I got around to listening to the Black Rose One-shot and Lizzie was originally blonde??? ik her design was changed a lot during the campaign in general but I’m deciding to play around with that info—I’m thinking she started dying it after joining Shadowbeard’s crew

anyways thoughts I had about Ava/the Ferin’s while designing her (possible spoilers or maybe just incoherent rambling):

gave her a rifle bc I feel like she’d have sharpshooting capabilities on par with Drey, but a pistol just didn’t seem appropriate for her. but I also see her favoring close-range attacks so she also gets a big knife as a treat

I think it’s mentioned in an episode how Jay looks more like their mother, May, so personally I think Ava resembles Jayson much more with certain aspects (specifically height, nose shape, eye color, hair ‘style’— Jay got his more square-ish face shape and broad build; they both have the same eye shape)

expanding on that fiery hair ‘style’ thing— I’m thinking that’s smthn that just kinda comes with the Ferin abilities and I’m thinking those powers need to be unlocked in a way?? there’s no other reason I can think of as to why Jayson has the flaming hair and specific magic skills while Jay doesn’t, so I’m thinking Ava may have been more in-tune with/naturally drawn towards the Ferin magic (esp since we see her using that golden form during the animatic sequence in ep101) while Jay become more influenced by May’s magic (since I think she spent the most time with her esp after Ava’s death). maybe Jay and Drey suppress their Ferin abilities (Drey def intentionally, Jay maybe a bit unintentionally?) and it could kinda explain why Jay has special blood: she’s a mix of two [supposedly] powerful magical heritages

I also have this thought that Ava may have unlocked these powers earlier than most of the Ferin’s, resulting in a fate similar to Gillion’s where she was regarded with pride for this yet constantly pressured and trained into becoming a weapon for the Navy (perhaps by request of Grandma Fey, who seems to be a very controlling character and could be the reason Jayson acts so cold and ruthless). and when she failed to uphold their beliefs that’s when The Order was given (maybe they found out about her & Lizzie???)

BUT in comparison to Jayson who absorbed himself in his work, and Gillion who was forcibly separated from his family, Ava was able to visit home often and had May and Jay to lean on as a support system. that connection alone could’ve helped separate the brutality and violence of her work in the Navy from her actual personality—the one that she became admired for and the one Lizzie was drawn to. it could also be speculated that she had the same ideas as Kira and Jay: that she could make the Navy better from the inside (obv this would be more difficult if she was held to high expectations, but she could’ve been on her way to making it work)

speaking of Jay—I think I remember a moment where someone explains how Jayson didn’t want her to join the Navy at all, and I always thought this was odd considering how it was moreso pointed towards her rather than Ava (as well as the fact that the Ferin’s ostracize those who don’t join, like Drey). this would coincide with my theory that Ava was expected to join bc of ‘unlocking’ her powers early, so maybe Jayson didn’t want Jay joining due to the fact that she hadn’t tapped into her Ferin powers yet, but Jay being Jay decided to enlist anyways and eventually gained a different motivation for her involvement than the rest of the clan [thanks to Kira & Ava]. or there was another thing at play. idk kinda just throwing smthn at the wall with this one bc that little comment stood out to me and I can’t remember if it even happened lol

also do we think the whole ‘sun nightmare’ is like,,, a test to unlock those abilities?? we know Jay and Drey opted to jump into it which kinda resulted in some magic golden eye phenomena (which we’ve seen in action once by Drey), but the issue here is when Jay rejected the heat the first time it just resulted in pain. so what would’ve been the option that leads the Ferin bloodline to become so powerful? do they choose to combat the sun?? do they conjure up heat of their own until they overpower it??? so many questions

gaaahhh I can’t wait until they’re out of the Black Sea so we can delve into this more bc I’m tired of feelin like this:

#lots of thoughts about these two #the drama and angst is just *chefs kiss*#my art #digital art #jrwi #jrwi podcast #just roll with it #just roll with it podcast #jrwi riptide #jrwi spoilers #jrwi fanart #jrwi ava #jrwi ava ferin #ava ferin #jrwi lizzie #jrwi lizzie lafayette #jrwi elizabeth lafayette #lizzie lafayette #jrwi waning crescent

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lovingseventeen · 1 year

Text

braiding svt’s hair

a/n: wholesome, but also some crack i guess LOL

seungcheol:

✿ agreed without giving much thought to it

✿ up until you had to pull a few strands a bit tighter because they were shorter

✿ “HE-hey!” he half-yells, remembering that he doesn’t ever want to raise his voice at you

✿ “sorry cheol” you say, still too fixated on getting his braids done to notice how sulky he’s getting

✿ “enjoy this now, it’ll be the last time” he says, a very noticeable pout in his voice

jeonghan:

✿ bros beautiful

✿ he had no problem letting you braid his hair because he did have his hair in a braid before when it was significantly longer

✿ his hair is medium length currently, so you don’t have to pull too hard for him, and you give him this style that has two braids that meet at the back of his head

✿ “can’t believe this suits you so well, hannie” you tell him as he looks in the mirror, his fingers gracing his hair so elegantly

✿ “ay, c’mon no one’s prettier than you” he replies, coming to place a kiss on your cheek

joshua:

✿ he actually usually braids your hair when you ask him to

✿ one day you offer to braid his so you two match

✿ naturally, he’s agreeing

✿ he’s so smiley when you match - ofc you have to take pictures together

✿ it definitely becomes his new lock screen

jun:

✿ would never say no to you

✿ tilts his head back when you start tugging, “baaabe” and you have to tell him to hold still

✿ gives you a thumbs up afterwards because he doesn’t look bad, he figures

hoshi:

✿ ofc you gotta braid your babygirl’s hair

✿ he feels so dainty after you give him two little braids

✿ keeps forming a “v” with his hands to frame his face LOL

✿ highkey, he looks good though, would probably eventually ask you to actually try styling his hair and he’d give his stylist a reference photo in the future

wonwoo:

✿ also rarely says no to you

✿ he sits patiently on the floor as you sit on the couch because of his height

✿ “wonu you look so cute” you gush, cupping his cheeks after giving him a little crown with his braids

✿ he smiles in return, “as long as you’re happy”

woozi:

✿ you’re running your hands through his hair as he plays a song guide, he likes when you do this

✿ you’ve been noticing his fringe has been getting longer, “you want me to help get your hair out of the way?” you ask

✿ “could you?” he replies, sitting up to make it a little easier for you

✿ you do a little braid that will keep some of the shorter strands in place, freeing his forehead

✿ he checks your work when you finish, surprised at the little braid but thankful nonetheless, placing a kiss to your hand

✿ “thank you, i’ll try to wrap this up soon”

dokyeom:

✿ “‘kyeomie, would you let me braid your hair?” you asked in boredom one day

✿ he’s nodding, already trying to find where to sit to make it easy for you, “where do you want me?”

✿ you giggle, telling to sit on a stool and that you’ll stand

✿ highkey loves it when you finish, his eyes crinkle when he smiles “i feel pretty”

✿ you almost can’t believe how adorable your boyfriend is, “that you are” you smile back :’)

mingyu:

✿ also a WHINER

✿ you’re not even pulling his hair the way he’s claiming

✿ he’s gasping and whining at every tug regardless of how much force you’re actually using

✿ “babe!” he whines when you actually give him one tug ✿ becomes so pouty even when you finish his braid without pulling hard

✿ he’s bringing a hand to his scalp and there’s a very obvious pout on his lips going, “why do you hate me”

✿ you jokingly roll your eyes, “you know for such a tall man, you’re a baby”

✿ he doesn’t care lmao, he’ll use you ‘hurting him’ as an excuse to be clingy that day

minghao:

✿ his hair is starting to get longer but management says he isn’t allowed to get it cut yet

✿ has been opting for a half ponytail recently but he also wants something different

✿ “do you know how to do something to tie my hair back?” he asks you

✿ you do this little braid that keeps his main fringe out of his face and sort of just tucks it behind one ear

✿ your boyfriend looks very elegant when you finish, slightly feminine but it’s never something that bothered him

✿ kisses the side of your head as a thank you

seungkwan:

✿ doesn’t tell you that you’re actually hurting him

✿ he just sits there quietly so you had no idea that you were pulling a bit hard

✿ you only find out when you find him looking in the mirror after and wincing as he touches his scalp

✿ “seungkwan, is the braid too tight?”

✿ “yeah” as he looks away PLS

✿ “you should’ve told me!” you exclaim, immediately feeling bad. you take his arm to get him to sit as you quickly take out the elastic and undo his braids

✿ “i’m sorry, baby” you tell him after, kissing the top of his head

vernon:

✿ you actually end up braiding his hair for fun because he fell asleep in your lap

✿ he actually only notices when he goes to the bathroom when he wakes up and sees himself in the mirror

✿ walks back out to you with eyebrows raised as he points to his hair

✿ “i got bored?” you offer

✿ “okay” he replies simply, he keeps them in anyway because there isn’t an urge to take them out

✿ soon realizes that he appreciates his hair being out of his face

✿ might ask you in the future to give him one braid at home because he likes it

dino:

✿ is HURT that YOU hurt him

✿ “baby-baby wait” he whines, a hand coming up to touch his scalp

✿ “it’s not that bad i’m almost done-” you tell him as you pull again

✿ dino lets out this yelp before you tie an elastic at the end

✿ “did i do something to you recently?” he genuinely asks, “because i’m sorry, whatever i did, i get it”

✿ take the braids out soon pls

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2jisungs · 1 month

Text

shortie

nishimura riki x fem reader fluff wc. 373

notes; the writers block is hitting guys..

growing up, you had always been way shorter than your best friend riki. it wasn’t much of a problem to you, getting used to the height difference over time, but when riki’s your best friend? gosh, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“hey, y/n, can you get this for me? wait, you’re too short, you can’t reach.” or, “how’s the weather down there, shortie?” he would say, and you hated it so much. (but you didn’t hate him, of course, you never would.)

eventually, you developed a crush on him, finding yourself excited to go to school just to see him. it came to an all-time peak, where you would purposefully wear revealing clothes, hoping that he’d look at you and find you pretty.

little did you know, he liked you too, his feelings were even stronger than yours. he would notice the outfits you would wear, sneaking glances your way while you weren’t paying attention. he’d talk to his other male friends about you, calling you “his little shortie”. seriously, you could just ask sunoo if he ever talked about you and the stories he had would last for days.

but, this time, it wasn’t you recalling those memories to yourself; it was riki.

“yea, i remember all that. but why are you telling me this?” you asked, a confused expression on your face.

“because there was one thing in common throughout all those times, something that you don’t know about.” riki replied, fueling your confusion further.

“what is it? seriously, riki, you’re confusing me.” you told him, and he chuckled lightly.

“i loved you. i loved you, and i still do. i love you so much. you’re the girl of my dreams, you’re all i want.” he finally confessed, looking down at you with a smile. “be my girlfriend?”

you felt yourself turning red. he actually liked you back? were you dreaming? “i love you too, riki. i’m so happy you told me this.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “yes, i’ll be your girlfriend.”

riki started grinning from ear to ear at your reply. he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “i love you so much,” he said, his voice soft. “my little shortie.”

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months

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TWST boys with a Diana! Reader?

The reader's a really and I mean REALLY popular and a captivating woman from Siodonna, many rumours were spreading of a beauty from Siodonna yet the TWST boys decided to ignore the rumours, taking them as only bluffs until they met the reader performing in the streets for the poor children. The boys quickly fell head over heels for they're kind nature, and alluring looks. The way those crystal like (Colour) eyes gaze into theirs sending their hearts pounding again their chest. Being lucky enough to marry the woman of their dreams was a big accomplishment but they're happiness was short lived when they found out the risk of the reader dying during childbirth, the TWST boys being selfish asked her to choose them over the child yet the reader didn't have the heart to do so and decided to give her life for the child, only doing as much as witnessing how they're child grew as a wandering spirit and visiting them in their dreams to interact with they're child. How would the guys react when their child(or children) mentioning they're mother's name when they've actually never met or heard of her?? <3

- M. Draconia ; V. Schoenheit ; R. Rosehearts ; L. Kingscholar ; I. Shroud ; L. Vanrouge

"I'm sorry for not choosing you, but I couldn't bare giving it up ( sacrificing an innocent life) either..."

- (Name)

SORRY IT'S BAD, I'M RUSHING THIS 😭😭

Mentioning Your Name | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its an average day your child casually mentions some advice you gave. It takes them off guard and the problem with lovers as in love as they are suffering from your loss–this can be received very differently:

Malleus Draconia

“What did you say?”

“I said (Y/n) told me I should try harder to talk to you because your socially immature.”

“....when…when did they say this?”

“In my dream last night, I asked how I was supposed to get you to smile at me and they told me to be ins-st-i-dent?”

He remembers what you said to comfort him before the birth

And honestly if it hadn’t been for that and this child having your smile

He would’ve smited him long ago

But to hear that you’re still here in some capacity

He smiles more

Speaking into the quiet of the room

Practically serenading your lingering spirit

“Thats…just like them…”

Vil Schoenheit

“Wearing those two patterns is a travesty, we won’t be doing plaid with polka-dots–”

“Noooo! B-but I said I would!”

“...To who?”

“To (Y/n) of course I was telling them all about how I’d wear them-”

“Wait wait what did you say?”

He doesn’t believe that you’re meeting in their dreams

Its more than likely one of his close friends slipped up while babysitting

And now they’ve taken the name of their mother for some imaginary friend

Needless to say he’ll get to the bottom of this

Even if it takes a forceful kind of truth serum

“(Y/n)...my half is dead…so whoever they’re speaking to is something else.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“My RULE IS ABSOLUTE TO YOUR ROOM!”

“(Y/n) would hate you so much!?”

“H-how do y-you–!”

“They said I should be free! That I should be allowed to play with others!”

“Where?! Where did you hear that?!”

He thought that he wouldn’t need to be hurt again

But here you were showing up in your child’s dreams

But since you’ve left him…what do you words mean now

“You’re not appearing to me and you aren’t here to parent…therefore you’re words barely scrape the height of a suggestion.”

Leona Kingscholar

“(Y/n) doesn’t think I’m weak!”

“WHAT?!”

“THEY said I’m plenty strong and that you don’t know everything!”

He’ll continue to lock the child away

Scratching at his post some interloper as he thinks about what his child has said

“Even across the grave you’re fighting me…can’t do much from where I’m at now can I?”

Idia Shroud

“Papa I made my own drone…”

“Mmmm.”

“Uhm and uh (Y/n) says that you should maybe look at me when I show you mystuff so…”

“...”

Is floored

Since your departure he’s been torn with hating this child and eliminating anyone who interacts with them

So consumed with grief he shuts himself in his workshop and watches his child relentlessly

He knows them well in fact he’s sure he loves them

but he can’t stand to speak to them without wanting to cry

So this is all the more painful to him and in his desire to reach out he might end up inventing something meant to capture your wandering spirit

“Just you wait (Y/n), I’ll have you soon.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Just trust Papa on this you stay inside, my little bat.”

“(Y/n) says you should let me outside more.”

“Oh yeah they really–said…that?”

“Yeah! And that you need to properly comb out my hair you can’t leave it a tangled mess.”

“Hahaha yeah.”

He believes in ghosts, well he knows they exist

So he believes thats what that is about

And if thats the case than maybe if he suggests somethings for your kid to recite

Maybe he can still reach out to you

“Hey! Hey! Maybe the next time you see them can you tell her how much Daddy loves her?”

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 month

Text

I Hate Myself for Loving You

Pairing: ReaderXEddieMunson

Request: i don't remember reading something like this before and i thought it might be nice. a smut where they suddenly start kissing rough during a big fight like in films/series? they might be fighting because of jealousy or something else and the fight is going really hard, (they don't hit each other) but maybe eddie is throwing things against the wall and breaking them and the reader is pushing him by the shoulders etc., with the intensity of the fight, something can be ignited and I thought it could be a really tough smut

Word Count: 3.3K

18+ Only

Smut, Rough sex, there is verbal fighting, name calling, and throwing of things but never violence at each other

“Are you fucking serious right now Eddie!?”

Your chest heaved, blood boiling in your veins, making you feel as if you were incinerating from the inside out. Was he really going to stand there and accuse you of this when he did it all the goddamn time, assuring you it meant nothing?

“I saw you, sweetheart! You were practically in his goddamn lap!”

“I was not! Jesus Christ! I was sitting on the stool next to him. We were just talking. I haven’t seen him since high school so he was asking what I’ve been up to.”

Eddie snorted, his eyes rolling up into his head. “Yeah. I’m so sure Billy Hargrove was real interested in a conversation and not your tits that were practically in his face, begging to be touched.”

The rage that was building within you had you trembling. It slithered like an ugly disease down your arm and into your hand. You grabbed the ashtray from the end table and chucked it at him. He ducked just in time as it smacked into the wall with force behind him.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled, those brown doe eyes now dark with fury. “What is wrong with you?”

“You! You’re what’s wrong with me! I sit there every fucking time you have a show and watch while girls hang all over you! You smile and laugh and tease them! You make them think they have a shot with you! You pose for pictures and sign their fucking tits! You sit there like a king on your fucking throne, soaking it all up, loving being the rock star that all the groupies want a shot with! And you’re always telling me it means nothing! I have to just accept it if I’m with you! But I have one goddamn conversation with a guy…”

“He’s not just a guy! He’s your fucking ex!”

“Yeah! He is! Ex being the word that matters here! I’m not with him. I’m with you! I chose you and I keep choosing you but you never fucking choose me!”

His mouth dropped open, sounds of disbelief and disgust spluttering from him. He folded his arms across his lean chest, rising up to full height, towering over you. You didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. Eddie could be a jerk but he would never lay a hand on you.

“I choose you! I could have any of those fucking girls I want! They want to come home with me! They’ve heard I can show them one hell of a time and they practically beg me to show them! But I don’t because I have you!”

“Oh! Well so sorry you’re saddled with me! That can easily be fixed you know!”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, princess?”

“You can leave anytime you want if this isn’t making you happy anymore! Yeah! You know what? Maybe you should! Then you can actually live out your sad small town rock star fantasy! You can bring a different whore home every night and show her what a good time you are.” You paused, tilting your head, hands on your hips. “But what fucking home will you bring her back to when you don’t have me to foot the bills so you can run off pretending you’re Tony Lommi?”

“We’re really going to do this again?”

“Do what again?”

“Bitch about me not pitching in enough around here! You knew what I was when you decided to be with me. You told me you were good with me working part time so I could focus on my music.”

“That was three fucking years ago! How long are you going to keep it up!?”

“You used to support me! You used to believe in me!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, only fueling your anger more, because you didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to show any sign of weakness. You didn’t want him to see how much his words had hit their mark, like an arrow hitting the bullseye.

You had supported Eddie. You had supported him. You’d encouraged him to go for his dream but his dream was now killing both of you. You couldn’t take it. Night after night watching women throw themselves at him, watching him encourage it, eat it up, relish the attention. Working twelve hour shifts, dead on your feet, just to cover rent because Eddie couldn’t possibly take on more hours if he was going to get that new song finished.

“Yeah, I did, and you used to act like I mattered!” you spat.

“You matter!”

“Do I? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it! When’s the last time you spent any time with me that wasn’t in the fucking bed, Eddie? That’s all I’m good for anymore! You don’t want to watch a movie or go down to the lake like we used to! I’m nothing but a toy you bring out when you need to quench your urges and then you put me back on a fucking shelf!”

“Bullshit! I invited you to band practice last week and you said no!”

“Oh! Thanks so much for wanting me to be there! We both know you just want an audience! You want someone to worship you and tell you how amazing your music is. I’m your girlfriend Eddie! I’m not some fucking groupie who’s just there to fawn over you and spread my legs!”

“No? Well, you sure acted like one tonight with Hargrove!”

“Fuck you! Get the fuck out!”

“This is my apartment too!”

“The fuck it is! You don’t pay for shit and my name’s on the lease!”

“You seriously want me to leave?” he growled.

“Yes! I want you gone! I’m done! I’m not doing this shit anymore!”

“Oh! Oh! I see what this is. You gonna call your roid rage boy toy once I’m gone? What sweetheart? You saw that mullet again and just couldn’t help yourself? You going back to him?”

You should say it but you couldn’t help yourself. Not after week after week of questioning if Eddie wasn’t just giving all those girls attention. Not after nights staring at the clock, wondering if he was off with one of those groupies, temptation too much for him to handle. Not after the way he’d just assumed you’d be willing to do the same. Staring him down, you challenged, “And so what if I am?”

His arm shot out and you shrieked, flinching, your hands coming to either side of your head as a shield. The crash of broken glass shocked you to your core as he grabbed the nearest thing to him, the lamp, and threw it with all the force he had against the wall.

You stared at him, silent, shocked as he glared down at you, chest heaving, each breath straining the fabric of the fitted shirt he’d started to wear ever since a groupie told him he should show off his body more.

“You want to go to him! You’re gonna leave me for that piece of shit!” he raged, flinging magazines from the end table one by one, nowhere in your direction, just satisfying thunks against the wall that punctuated each word he spoke. “You think he’s gonna be better to you than me!” His hand snatched the little elephant that he’d bought you from the zoo, the tiny figure cracking as it made contact with the wall next. “You’re just gonna walk away!”

“You asshole!” you screamed, fists pummeling against his chest, shoving him backward. His hands wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place, keeping you from reaching him.

“Stop it!” he yelled as you flailed like a feral animal to free yourself from his grip.

“I hate you!” you cried. “I fucking hate you!”

“Calm the fuck down!” he roared, pushing you back until he had you pinned against the wall, his weight pressing against you. “God, why do you have to be such a bitch!?”

“Probably because you’re such a dick!” you snap back, trying so hard to hold onto your anger but the awareness of his body, every inch of him now pressed against every inch of you, is making it harder to do.

He rolls his hips, his erection pressing against your center, smirking when you gasp at the contact, “Yeah, but you like that dick, don’t you?”

“Go to hell,” you grind out through gritted teeth and when he drops his head to find your lips, you snap at him, going for the bite. He just chuckles, keeping hold of your wrists, bringing them to either side of your head against the wall.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” He tries for the kiss and when you nip at him again, his lips latch onto your neck instead, sucking a bruise into your skin while he slots his thigh between yours.

“You are…”

But you never tell him what he is as he presses his thigh against your center, your traitorous hips rolling, seeking the friction he’s providing. His mouth moves over your neck, suckling the flesh in a semi-circular pattern until he reaches the other side. He’s marking you, a necklace for you to wear, to display that you’re taken, that you already belong to someone. Like a fucking dog in heat, he’s making sure that Billy Hargrove and any other unfortunate male who even glances your way knows you’re not available.

You want to fight him. You want to be the badass bitch who pushes him off and walks away, stands your ground, but it just feels so goddamn good. His mouth on your skin, firm muscle grinding against you just where you need it, fingers pressing into your pulse points as he keeps you captive against the wall.

“What was that, princess? I’m what?” he teases, fingers loosening their grip on your wrists, trailing over the sensitive flesh on the underside of your arms sending shivers racing up your spine. They brush over the outer curve of your breasts and your back arches, your body craving more, needing more but Eddie just steps back, holding his hands out in front of him. “There’s the door. If I’m such a dick, why don’t you head out right now and find your little boytoy?”

Your teeth grind together, that anger that you’d forgotten in the haze that was desire raging back, the two warring with each other, a battle that was about to lead to epic destruction.

“You bastard…” you mutter, shoving him backward, his body moving barely an inch. “I despise every fucking thing about you.”

One eyebrow lifts, taunting, his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth, tracing over his bottom lip. Your eyes watch, a clenching between your thighs as that backstabbing bitch aches for what she knows that tongue can do.

“I hate you…you’re…you’re…”

“Yes? I’m listening.” He cups his hand to his ear, egging you on, brown eyes dancing with amusement as how vexed he’s gotten you.

A roar of frustration rips from your throat, your hands slamming into his chest, sending him almost toppling over the coffee table. His arms flail for a second before he drops to his ass, hard, just managing to keep himself sitting. He barely has time to look up at you before you’re climbing onto his lap, your fingers sliding roughly into his hair, grabbing a fistful, painfully pulling his head back, relishing the way he winces.

“Fuck, princess. Careful with the hair.”

“Shut up,” you order, your tongue tracing down his neck, his wince quickly turning into a groan. You sink your teeth into the flesh between his neck and shoulder and he grunts, grabbing onto your hips, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

You rock against him, seeking the relief, the pressure building within you, winds of anger and lust meeting to create a tempest that was about to sweep you both away. Lips, teeth, and tongues clash in a war of biting, sucking, and scraping that has your thighs shaking, a coil tighter than you’ve ever felt before curling in your stomach, begging to spring free.

Eddie’s hands grab onto your top, tearing it in half, the sound of the threads coming apart satisfying. He makes quick work of your bra and then his mouth descends, marking your flesh until you’re sure there won’t be an inch of you that isn’t bruised. Your hands find their way up his shirt, nails raking along his back when he clamps his teeth over your nipple, tugging at the tender peak, a pain that sends a rush of pleasure straight to where you keep rocking against him.

“Fuck yes!” you cry, nails embedding into the skin of his shoulders, using him as leverage as you chase your own release against the bulge in his jeans.

His hand clamps around your throat, pushing you back, away from what you want right at the moment you’re about to get it. The rage is back, awakened again by the audacity of this man to keep your orgasm from you. Your back drapes over his legs as he makes fresh marks over your stomach, his other hand slipping up your skirt.

The soft Eddie, the one who glided calloused fingers over your trembling flesh, who teased you over top of your panties, who pressed tender kisses to your inner thighs, was nowhere to be found. Without warning, his thrust two of his thick fingers past the scrap of fabric and inside you, not giving one thought to if you were ready for him.

But you were. Holy shit, you were wetter than you’d ever been, inner thighs already sticky from the friction, the brutish way his mouth was marring your skin. You’d never been so turned on in your life and you didn’t know what that said about you and at this moment, with his fingers deep within your pussy, his heel grinding against your clit, his mouth suckling a fresh mark under your breast, you really didn’t care.

“Not thinking about leaving now, are you, princess?” His hand came down, making contact with the side of your breast with a smack, your whole body jolting.

You cried out, your hands dropping to the ground behind your head to keep you from spilling off his lap. Another finger pressed into you, stretching you, filling you and a sound you didn’t even recognize wrenched from your body as it clamped down around his fingers. His large palm grabbed your breast roughly, pulling at the overly sensitive skin, everything heightened in this moment, your entire body feeling like it flayed open, senses on max level.

“Fuck!” you growled, your whole body quaking as it neared release and his palm lifted, fingers slipping out, leaving you feeling empty.

“You don’t come until I tell you to.”

“What the fuck do you mean…”

But your words were cut off as he manhandled you, turning you over, your face pressed down into the carpet. Snatching off your underwear, he roughly palmed your thighs, spreading you wide until your entire front half was bent onto the floor.

You heard the slide of his zipper. “You want this dick, don’t you?” he purred, leaning forward, his voice just over your shoulder. “Come on, princess. You want this dick, you gotta ask nicely. Say please.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

“Hmm…okay then…”

“You think I want that after so many groupies have had a turn on it,” you challenged, daring him to say it. To tell you that yeah, he’d been cheating on you for months. Letting you believe it was all just about keeping the fans happy so they’d keep coming back. “You think it’s so special? You can fucking keep it. I can find just as good elsewhere.”

You moved to get up and his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing you back down to the floor.

“Nobody’s had a fucking turn but you,” he growled. “I’m a lot of things, sweetheart but a liar ain’t one of them. You are so goddamn stubborn, you know that? Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you.”

“Then don’t!”

“Oh, I wish it were that simple. I’m fucking in love you, you idiot! You’re a pain in my ass and you drive me up the fucking wall but I love you and you love me and you fucking know it.” He slapped your ass, leaving a sting that had your pussy dripping all over again. “Now be a good girl and ask for my cock politely.”

Fuck. You hated how right he was. You hated how much you wanted him. You hated how hopelessly in love with him you were. You wished you had the strength to just get up and walk away but you didn’t. A throb between your thighs reminded you how much you needed this. Your body was going to make the decision for you.

“Fuck me, Eddie,” you snarled.

“I’m sorry. What’s the magic word?”

“I hate you…I hate you so fucking much…”

“Nope. Sorry but that’s not it.”

“Please!” you screamed. “Please fuck me into this goddamn floor and let me come already!”

“That’s my good girl.”

His hips slammed forward, colliding against your own as he buried himself to the hilt within you. You groaned gutturally, your body a discrepancy of both relief and tension. He thrust into you at a brutal pace, your skin smacking together, loudly filling the small space. You had a fleeting thought about what the neighbors were hearing but it quickly dissipated as the only thing you could focus on was Eddie, stretching you, filling you, finally giving you what you needed.

His hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you off the floor, pressing your back to his chest. Continuing to fill you, he gripped your neck, his other hand sliding over your stomach and in between your thighs. When he applied pressure to your clit, you keened, arching back against him.

“This pussy is mine. You’re mine.” His teeth bit down into your shoulder. “You’re the only one that’s mine. You’re the only one I want. Do you understand that?”

You couldn’t answer. Your eyes rolled toward the heavens, muscles trembling violently. You had zero control. His grip around your throat tightened, a wheeze rising from your lungs as you attempted to suck in air that you couldn’t find.

“I said, do you understand that?”

He slowly eased up pressure and you rasped out, “Yes. Yes. Yes…”

The word continued to fall from your lips, a mantra as the pressure that had been building within you finally reached its boiling point. You were standing at the precipice, looking at the drop…it was so damn close you could taste it.

“Come for me now,” ordered Eddie.

The band snapped, an explosion of sweltering heat racing along your skin, as your orgasm violently took over your body. Eddie kept his hand around your neck, not ceasing his unmerciful pounding, his flesh meeting yours with a ferocious collision every single time. His grip tightened as an animalistic roar assaulted your ears.

Sweat slicked flesh slid against each other as the two of you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You lay next to him, panting, struggling to understand what the hell had just happened. How had you gone from being ready to kick him out to having the hottest sex of your life?

“I mean it. You’re the only one. I’ve never kissed or touched any of those girls. I’ve never even considered it,” he gasped. “Have you? Were you…considering Billy?”

“No…not really,” you managed, still unable to fully catch your breath.

“You love me?”

Your head turned, looking over at this idiot that somehow had such a hold on you. You couldn’t explain it but you also couldn’t deny it. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

“Yeah. I do. I love you even if you are a dick.”

“Good because I love you too, you pain in the ass.”

#eddie munson #stranger things eddie #eddie the banished #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie the freak munson #rough #rough smut #smut #request #smut requests #eddie munson stranger things #jealousy #toxic relationship #rough stuff

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mothandpidgeon · 11 days

Text

While the Baby Sleeps (demon!Ezra x f!reader)

pairing: demon!Ezra x f!reader (mom!reader)

rating: E! 18+!

wc: 2.6k

summary: The only way to get your baby to sleep through the night is making a deal with an unholy creature. But, of course, there are consequences...

tags: dark fic, Dub/non con (making a deal with a demon), breastfeeding, nursing, lactation kink, mommy kink? (but not like that), stretch marks, oral sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, horns, Ezra is a sex demon, moth never uses y/n

an: Here is my submission to #MothandBirdMothersDayChallenge! Actually this fic is the reason why I wanted to do this challenge. Sometimes when I'm in the dark nursery in the middle of the night, I have fun intrusive thoughts like 'What if there was a shadowy figure in the doorway?' To combat how terrifying that thought is, I took it and made it horny. Thank you @ezrasbirdie for betaing this, helping me do this Mother's Day Challenge, and all around being a cool auntie to my fics and baby Moth.

...

He wakes you every night. It doesn’t matter what you try. Your son hasn't let you have more than three consecutive hours of sleep since he was born.

You’re at your wit’s end.

Every time you look in the mirror you see a hollowed out version of yourself with dark bags under your eyes. You make yourself coffee without putting grounds into the filter. You fly into a tearful rage when you spill a bottle of precious milk. You don’t know who you are anymore.

Tonight’s no different. You lift your crying baby from his crib. Rock him, shush him. You sit with him in the glider and try to nurse him back to sleep. It’s all done bleary-eyed, half asleep. Everything is these days.

You’d give anything for this baby to sleep.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you look up to see a figure standing just outside the nursery. It’s shadowy against the dark of the hallway, shades of gray on black. From the height and broad shoulders, it could be a man. He stands abnormally still. Silent, watching. You think it’s just a trick of your sleep deprived mind until he moves just slightly and a patch of silver hair is caught in the moonlight.

You must be dreaming because if there was a man in your baby’s room, you’d be terrified. And you’re not. You feel calm like you’re floating on steady waters.

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice drifts like a lullaby.

He doesn’t respond, just leans in the doorway. All that you can make out is that blonde hair and two eyes that glint at you.

“I’ve come to help you, petal,” he finally says. His voice is warm and melodic.

You feel yourself nodding off for a moment. When you blink yourself awake, he’s by your side.

You can make out his features better now. Dark stubble covers a handsome face. The sharp angles of his nose and jaw are silhouetted in the dim. You smell woodsmoke and frankincense as he comes near. He kneels beside the chair and his brow furrows as he looks up at you.

“You need that child to rest,” he says.

You nod pathetically. You can feel familiar tears well in your eyes. Hopeless, helpless. Desperate.

“I can be of assistance,” he says.

“Don’t hurt him,” you say, holding your son a bit closer to your chest. Your baby might be torturing you in the night but you love him. You won’t let anything happen to him. Even though you’re sure you’re dreaming, you remember old fairy tales, creatures that try to trick and deceive. This man isn’t human, you know that somewhere deep inside you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I won’t even touch him. It’s not the babe that’s piqued my interest. It’s his mother,” he explains. His obsidian eyes are on your lips, pink tongue darts out to lick his own.

“Don’t hurt me either,” you say, though there’s no fight in your words.

“That’s not my intention at all. Quite the opposite. You’re so beautiful, petal,” he coos, brushing his knuckles across your jawline.

It must be a dream because you haven’t felt beautiful in a long time. Your body’s been stretched and broken, engorged and swollen. Your hair falls out by the handful. Your breasts reek of sweat and milk, a sickly funk.

“I want you. Carnally,” he says.

The growl in his voice makes warmth pool between your thighs. He looks at you like something divine, an awe over his features. His light touch moves down your neck and over your collarbone sending goosebumps over your skin. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel anything other than exhausted, touched in a way that isn’t a demand for food or comfort.

“Let me have that and that boy will slumber like an angel,” he promises. He watches your baby suckling himself back to sleep.

It sounds so good. Suddenly the only thing you want more than a a night’s sleep is for this stranger to pleasure you, to be inside of you. You haven’t felt desire in just about as long as you haven’t slept. You’ve barely been able to shower and feed yourself let alone take care of your own needs.

“Put the child in his cot and go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll come for you and you’ll see,” he says.

“Who are you?” you ask again.

“I’m Ezra,” he whispers.

You wake up in your bed the next morning and you’ve slept like the dead.

That strange dream haunts you but you think of it as nothing more than that. When you put your son down to sleep the next night, you don’t expect any miracles. He goes down easily enough, a nice little fluke, and you decide to turn in early yourself.

Its nearly midnight when you wake up but you realize it’s quiet. The baby isn’t crying for you. You glance at the monitor and see that he’s sleeping soundly, sucking away at this pacifier. Just as Ezra promised.

Relief floods your veins. You put your head back against the pillow and your eyes drift close. As you begin to return to sleep, there’s a shift in the bed and you catch that earthy scent again. You gasp when you see Ezra’s black eyes. He’s beside you, the pad of his thumb tracing the plump of your lower lip. His chest is a wide golden plane littered with white scars, dusted with dark hairs.

“Hush, petal,” he says. “I’ve kept my promise. And now I’ve come to ravish you.”

You want to tell him that you’re tired. You finally have the opportunity to go back to sleep and you shouldn’t let anything come between you and that sweet rest. But the same, strong want that you felt the night before is calling you. An ache runs between your legs up to where Ezra’s hand glides over the delicate skin on your pulse. You're powerless to stop your own desire from sabotaging the one thing you’ve wanted.

A languid sigh leaves you as you melt into his touch.

Ezra sucks at your neck. You’ll have a black and blue mark from his teeth but the sensation is so delicious, you can’t bring yourself to care.

He opens your legs and notches his hips between yours. The friction of his hard cock against your panties makes your back arch.

“I want to taste you,” he says.

He rucks up the ratty old t-shirt that you sleep in along with the nursing bra that’s constantly saturated with leaking milk. He takes a long moment to savor the sight of you so exposed, a smile twitching on his lips. A long, low growl leaves him as he slithers down your body, gathering your breasts in his big hands and bringing his face to nuzzle in your skin.

You hear him inhale deeply, taking in your scent. The stubble of his cheek scratches at your sensitive flesh. One thick finger circles your peaked nipple nice and slow. Your body responds— a bead of milk seeps out and rolls down to the valley between your breasts.

Your breath catches at the mix of sensations. Your cheeks heat and you can’t help the embarrassment that creeps up your spine. Much to your surprise, Ezra’s eyes widen with interest. He lowers himself and traces the wet trail with the flat of his tongue. You can only imagine what he tastes– the musk of your sweat beneath sweet milk. It seems that he likes it. He closes his lips around your nipple and lavishes it with his tongue, groaning into your flesh.

“Shit,” you gasp.

You feel the tingle of letdown behind your breasts, his ministrations summoning more milk. Soon Ezra is drinking from you, grunting and rutting his hips against you. The other, neglected nipple weeps milk and he pauses to lap it up greedily. You tangle your hand into his hair and that’s when you feel it. There’s a raised bump amidst his curls but it’s hard as bone. It sits just above his forehead and stands only an inch high. As your fingers rake through his hair, you find another. Horns.

The terror you expect never comes. He might be something ungodly and all you feel is a building excitement. Everything about this is wrong but the world feels upside down.

He comes away, his plush bottom lip glistening with pearlescent milk. It’s a sight that should repulse you but in the delirium of sleeplessness and lust, it just makes you hungry.

“You are an exquisite creature,” he purrs.

His flat palm skates down your belly where you’re middle still holds baby weight, a reminder that your body is no longer your own. He peels your panties down your thighs. You feel the fine edges of his teeth against your skin. He penetrates you with two exquisitely thick fingers. No warning but you hardly need it— you’re already slick.

You keen, back arching off of the mattress, and the sensation is doubled when he puts his lips to your clit and sucks with the same enthusiasm he had at your breast. His wide shoulders spread your knees to make room for his body. You drown in pleasure, a heady mixture of fire doused in the thick pool of sleepiness. Floating, sinking, cresting on a wave as he licks and spreads you open, presses in deep and coils you tight. It’s hard to believe your body can have such strong responses when you’re barely function in your waking life. Something primal drives you on and Ezra knows just how to unlock it.

“Such a delicacy. To sup on milk and cunt,” he says, barely taking his lips from you.

The swirls and undulations of his tongue and the sweet pressure inside works you into a frenzy. Your breath shortens and then stops altogether, your thighs tighten and you hold your eyes shut, listening to the whimpers and moans between your legs. It’s too much and not enough.

When you come undone, it’s a rush of ecstasy that you want to live in forever. Rolling and gushing and sighing. You choke and arch, your entire body convulsing. Your spine clenches up like you’ve been struck by lighting and the electricity runs out through your fingertips and toes.

“Such a glorious vision,” he muses as you come down, panting and shivering.

Ezra’s eyes are fixated on you, pupils blown so wide they’re nearly black. He looks like he wants to devour you.

You share his hunger. You want more already. You’ve just had a feast and yet you’re starving again.

You see Ezra’s cock now for the first time. Thick and upright, it’s tip, flushed and red. He takes it in his fist, glazing his shaft in your release. There’s something animalistic about it that floods you with another wave of arousal.

“More,” you manage to say.

“Not too tired?” he teases with a wicked smile.

You shake your head. How can you sleep when your body is on fire with lust?

“I’ll fill each needy hole,” he says.

You whine. He lines himself at your entrance.

“You’re a goddess. And I’m going to defile you.”

You're filled to the hilt. The noise that escapes him is animalistic and his eyes lose focus. You’re already fluttering around him, already so close to another climax. He fucks you, the stretch and rhythm making you dizzy.

“This is the closest I’ll get to heaven, I fear,” he revels. “But what could be more divine than this sweet cunt?”

Each word that falls from his lips seems to stroke at your core. His hips drive into you, hands greedily paw at every soft part of your body.

The only thing that quiets his debauched ramblings is suckling at your breast. Your senses are completely overwhelmed. Tears prick in your eyes as your insides tighten, another orgasm shattering through you. You bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.

“Let me hear,” he demands. “He won’t wake.”

And so you do, crying out as you clench around his thickness, losing all control of your body.

“That’s it, petal. That’s it,” he says.

He goes on thrusting and pins you down, torturing that exquisite spot deep inside of you over and over again. You’re not sure where one climax ends and another begins but you’re possessed.

“If only I could fill that womb, sire one after the other to keep you round,” he grunts.

Ezra swears. He hisses out words in a language you don’t recognize. It sounds like an incantation.

You hardly have time to make sense of it. He’s pulling out of you, grinding his wet length against your thigh and spilling hot ropes onto your mound.

You lay beneath him, boneless and dazed. The exhaustion flushes over your weak body. You sense Ezra at your breast again as your eyes drift closed.

The next thing you know, your baby is crying and it’s morning.

It must be a dream. There’s no other way to explain it— a horned creature slipping in and out of your bedroom in the middle of the night, fucking you senseless when you have no energy left. But you wake up with come drying where he marked you.

That night, he’s back again.

And again after that.

“Ezra, I’m exhausted," you breathe. "Please.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted, petal?”

Now your son sleeps soundly through the night while you are awake, debauched for hours without end.

He’s insatiable and somehow you are, too.

He fucks you until you’re raw. Your legs quiver and burn from being parted so wide. Your pussy feels battered and bruised. You beg him to fuck your ass just to give your cunt some rest.

And although your body feels like it can’t take another second of pleasure, though it begs for a moment’s peace, every time he comes to you, you’re flooded with arousal.

When you try to steal an afternoon nap, he’s there, cock already standing in his fist.

Spittle dribbles from the corners of your lips as he fucks your mouth. It runs down your chest, your knees already bruised from the hours you’ve spent on them. You try to chase your own relief, grinding your hips against the floor. He pulls you by the ears to sink deeper down your throat.

He grunts and moans and howls as he comes between your lips.

He doesn’t always take.

The next time he makes you come four times.

“Again, again,” he chants into your ear. His words are hot breath as his fingers press inside of you overwhelming that ridge that sends you reeling. Your bodies are pressed together, sticky with perspiration and release and drool and milk.

“I can’t,” you sob, your body sore and stretched to its limit.

You’re so spent, so overstimulated, each orgasm takes more and more effort. But Ezra refuses to quit, punishing you until you reach a fearsome crescendo.

“Oh, my petal, but I know you are more than capable.”

He’s right. You can feel the weak muscles in your core begin to twist. You hold your breath and focus on the brutal sensations Ezra gives you.

“Besides, your ability is immaterial,” he goes on. “These were the terms of our deal. This cunt. Is. Mine.”

Despite the fact that you’re so exhausted you can barely remember your own name, hardly able to stand on your own two feel, the climax that hits you is just as monumental as the very first.

“Have you endured enough tonight, petal?” he asks, sucking the gush of slick off of his fingers.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.”

You’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop or to keep going.

“Tomorrow, petal,” he promises. “Now get some rest.”

He wakes you. Every night.

...

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! My asks are always open and I don't bite (unless you're into that).

#mothandbirdmothersdaychallenge #ezra prospect #ezra x f!reader #demon!ezra #demon!ezra x f!reader #dark fic

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starkwlkr · 9 months

Note

Hey love your baby Leclerc serie i have maybe a idea for the serie

Maybe where yn gets her hair dyed and ruby wants also her hair dyed maybe 2 locks of her hair and when they got home ruby is like daddy look my hair

little miss rainbow hair | charles leclerc

changed it just a little bit here it is :)

Y/n wanted a change. At first she wasn’t sure if that change meant getting a tattoo or dyeing her hair. She then realized that she wasn’t ready for a tattoo yet so a trip to Pascale’s hair salon was on the top of her to do list. When she arrived to the salon, some of the nice older women said hello to Ruby and Y/n since they visited Pascale many times. Y/n greeted her mother in law and talked to her about having a change in her hair.

“Hi! Hi! Hi!” Ruby greeted each women as she passed them by. When she got to a woman who she remembered had brown hair, she gasped since the woman now had red hair. “Your hair! It’s red!” Ruby excitedly told the woman, whose name was Maria.

Maria chuckled. “It is. My favorite color is red so I decided to change it.”

“It’s pretty. I want to paint my hair rainbow colored, but papa says I can’t because I’m too little but when I grow up this big,” she showed her desired height with her hands. “I’m going to paint my hair rainbow.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful!” Maria said.

“Does painting your hair hurt? Do you miss your brown hair? What if you want a different color?” The little girl continued with her questions. Maria laughed, she didn’t mind answering any question that Ruby had.

After talking with Pascale, Y/n decided that cutting and dyeing her hair was her desired style. “Ruby, come here for a minute.” Y/n told her daughter.

Ruby skipped towards her mother, who was seated in the stylist chair. “Are you painting your hair too? Paint it red!”

“I am painting my hair but it’s not going to be red, babe. Maman’s hair is going to be (whatever color you want). And I’m going to cut it just a little. What do you think? Is papa going to like maman’s hair?” Y/n asked.

“He’s going to love it!” The girl said rather aggressively. She then saw bottles of hair dye on the counter and ran towards them. She saw the color red and immediately grabbed it and ran to Pascale. “Can you paint my hair, grand-mère? Please!”

Pascale took the bottle away from the girl and placed it on a shelf. “This isn’t meant for little girls, amour, sorry.”

“So I have to wait a hundred years? That’s so long!” Ruby whined.

“You don’t have to wait a hundred years, that’s silly. Maybe when you’re fifteen, your papa and maman can let you dye your hair.” Pascale replied.

“Die? I don’t want to die.” Ruby’s eyes widened.

“D-y-e. Dye. The bottle you had is hair dye and what I’m going to put on your maman’s hair is hair dye. Basically paint for your hair. It comes in all colors for all types of hair.” Pascale explained as she walked with the girl to where Y/n was.

“Oh. Well . . . Maman, can I dye my hair?” Ruby asked innocently.

“When you’re older you most certainly can, Ruby Jules,” Y/n replied as Pascale began to wet Y/n’s hair. “And don’t get any ideas about painting your hair with actual paint or markers. It’s not good for your hair.”

“But I want rainbow hair.” She said defeated.

Suddenly Maria walked up to the Leclerc family. “Sorry, I heard little Ruby wanted to ‘paint’ her hair and obviously hair dye isn’t for you yet. My daughters always ask me to dye their hair so I bought this,” Maria gave Y/n a little bag with colored containers. “They’re called color chalk. It’s a fun way for kids to color their hair in a safe way. It lasts long which surprised me but if you want you can keep those for Ruby. I have more in house. My daughters love them so much, I have plenty.”

Ruby then looked at her maman with a little smirk. “Rainbow hair.” She whispered.

“You win, you little rascal.” Y/n sighed.

When Charles got home, he didn’t expect both of his girls to be sporting new hair looks. He first saw Y/n’s hair and immediately loved it. He couldn’t keep his hands off her hair. He loved to run his fingers through it. As he was about to give her another compliment, Ruby walked into the living room with rainbow colored hair.

“Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” Charles asked.

“It’s me, papa! It’s Ruby, but with rainbow hair.” She flipped her hair and walked to sit beside him.

“Okay, Ruby but with rainbow hair, I hope that comes off because you have school pictures in a month.” Charles informed her.

“Maria said it lasts long so I guess little miss rainbow hair is going to be colorful for her school pictures.” Y/n smiled at her daughter.

“I’m so much cooler than you, papa. I have rainbow hair and you don’t.” Ruby teased.

“Y/n, get me the scissors.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

Just Trust Me Babe

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

I love stsg x reader dearly, literally in any capacity. I want them both so bad

fem reader, established relationship w gojo, voyeurism!!!, vaginal sex, masturbation, consensual cucking???

1.7k

MDNI

“A-are—” your voice hitches as a pair of large, warm palms land on your waist, squeezing the supple flesh. Thumbs rub firm, yet gentle circles into the dimples on your back, attempting to ease any of the nerves you have. The touch works as intended, your voice returning to its natural state. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, baby,” Gojo affirms, relaxing further into the bean bag chair, stretching out his long limbs as his hand palms his own crotch. The perfect arch in your back with your plump ass in the air always makes him stir beneath his waist.

“But—”

“Baby,” Gojo’s voice is a bit sharper this time, eyes narrowing. “I trust him, he’s going to make you feel good, don’t even worry.”

From the beginning, your relationship with Gojo has always been a bit… different than any other man you’ve been with. While past boyfriends have had friends that were a bit annoying and downright a pain to be around, Gojo’s best friend wasn’t so bad. Geto was rather charismatic and charming, though sometimes he made comments that absolutely made your blood boil.

Like the time you were getting ready to go on a date and he asked if you were going to finish doing your makeup with a straight face. You were already finished with your whole routine, and all Gojo did was shrug and suggest that you touch it up before the two of you left. When the two of you returned he had the nerve to say, “You guys were out all night! Aren’t you happy you touched it up?” All you did was stare at him blankly as Gojo flashed you a lopsided grin.

The two were incredibly close. At first it was subtle, with him joining when you came over for movie nights and dinners. They were roommates after all, it just seemed natural for him to be around. But then he became more present than ever, actually joining the two of you when you went to the movies, dinners out, and nights spent dancing away at clubs.

Gojo always mentioned he and his best friend did everything together, but you never thought that extended to you until one day he bluntly asked, “Would you be fine with Suguru fucking you?”

You remembered staring at him wildly, mouth opening and closing with too many thoughts to even formulate into words racing through your mind. Denying Geto’s attractiveness would be an absolute crime. With his silky raven locks that definitely had more care than your own hair and height that matched your boyfriends’ with even more muscle definition, he was definitely a wet dream personified.

“It’ll feel good,” Gojo promised, providing not a speck of intel as to why he wanted his best friend to fuck you. Better yet, how was he so sure that Geto would make you feel good, but the insistence in his tone made it hard to deny him of what he was asking.

So here you are on all fours, Geto’s fat tip rubbing against your folds as you take deep breaths in anticipation. His tongue was working you open just prior to this, his saliva mixed with your wetness and cum making the perfect lubricant for his cock to ease right in.

“Suguru,” Gojo says, almost impatiently. He squeezes the ridge in his pants, a low hiss escaping from his mouth. “Fuck her.”

“Alright, alright,” Geto chuckles easily, moving one hand from your waist to properly line his cock up with your dripping entrance, not a shred of grace in his movements as he thrusts his thick length into you entirely.

The squelching sound of his cock pushing past your rings of muscle is obscene as the feeling of being so full consumes you. The thrust knocks the breath out of your lungs, mouth falling open after a small yelp escapes from your lips. He’s definitely bigger than Gojo, rivaling in both length and girth as your body shudders to adjust.

“Don’t break her now,” Gojo laughs, thrusting his hips up against his own palm. “I know how you get.”

“Aw,” Geto coos. He doesn’t give you that liberty though, withdrawing his hips before propelling them forward again. “You don’t think she can handle me?”

“Heh.” Gojo clicks his tongue. “You alright, baby?”

“Y-yeah,” you sputter out, arms shaky as you focus on manually breathing.

“She’s fine,” Gojo affirms, cock pulsing in his sweats again. “She’ll get used to it.”

Used to it? There’s no time to process the words as Geto slams into you again, a soft grunt leaving his lips. His grip on your waist tightens as he takes his time to pull back, stretching you out slowly before jutting into you again.

“Fuck,” Geto groans, reveling in the feeling of your walls around him. “Tight lil’ pussy you’ve been fucking, huh?” The words make your cunt hug his cock even harder as he pushes into you again.

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Gojo chuckles, working down the waistband of his sweats, cock that’s now too hard to leave untouched slapping against his abdomen. He hisses as he gives his length a stroke, spreading the precome over the sensitive tip. “Wait til you feel her come. Fucking magical.”

All you can do is fist the sheets as Geto sets a brutal pace, sweat making the stray hairs of his bangs stick to his forehead as he surges his hips forward. The slapping noises of his hips meeting your ass only makes Gojo’s cock throb harder, and he’s finding it difficult to even keep his eyes on the two of you as his hand moves furiously to jerk himself off.

“Shit, she’s squeezing me so tight,” Geto grits out, pace not faltering for even a moment as he continues driving his hips forward, every vicious thrust hitting your sweet spot.

“Oh—hah, she’s close already.” Gojo’s voice is somewhere between a chuckle and a moan as he continues watching the way you’re taking Geto’s pounding. His firm hold on you, the sounds you’re both making, the way the fat of your ass jiggles, it's like Gojo’s own personal porno, and he’s living for it. Even though you lurch forward sometimes you don’t back down, pants and moans the only sounds you’re capable of making.

A soft whine leaves your lips as your arms stabilize. Somewhat comfortable with his size you begin to push back against him, meeting his thrusts. “Oh god.” Gojo feels his abdomen clench violently at the sight. “Fuck him back, baby, just like that.”

“Shit.” One hand lands a smack on your ass, echoing throughout the room. Geto seems to pound into you harder, his nails digging into your waist. It’s a delicious kind of pain, one that’s easy to ignore when his cock is hitting your g-spot every single time. He pauses his movements for a moment, just watching as your ass sinks down onto his cock.

“Sugu, come on,” Gojo groans, panting as his cock throbs in his hand again. “Make her come all over your dick, that shit will feel good for you both.”

“That was the plan,” Geto answers, resuming his movements of canting his hips forward. You let him take control this time, solely focused on staying upright. As more moans leave your lips he reaches around to rub your clit. Instantly your back arches, a whine leaving your lips as your stomach clenches. “Oh? You like the idea of coming all over my cock, huh?” He doesn’t stop, continuing to rub your clit while pounding into you, trying to stave off his own orgasm while yours is rising to the surface.

“Tell him,” Gojo breathes out, knuckles turning white with how hard he’s gripping his cock, his strokes getting faster. “Tell him you want to come all over his dick.”

“I—” The words die in your throat, so much pleasure overcoming you.

“Aw, come on.” Geto pauses as his cock is buried as deep as it can be, leaning over your back, his sweaty midsection sticking to your equally sweaty back as his lips level with your ear. “You wanna come all over my cock? Hmm?”

“I—yes.”

“I can tell.” His breath tickles your ear, making you shiver as his tongue traces the shell of your ear. “Pussy’s been gripping me so tight, almost thought I wouldn’t be able to move.” His words make you clench around him again, your cunt giving his cock a warm hug. “Heh, just like that,” he chuckles.

“Say it,” Gojo says as Geto raises, another slap landing on your ass.

“I—” Another thrust. “I—I wanna come on your cock, Suguru.”

“God, I bet you do,” Gojo says through clenched teeth. He only unclenches his jaw to let saliva dribble out onto his mouth and onto his cock, sighing in relief as he thrusts up into his own hand.

It’s mind numbing, the feeling of Geto touching both of your most sensitive parts at the same time; his fat cock pressing against your g spot and his deft fingers rubbing at your bud working to bring you to climax. Just knowing Gojo is watching and getting off to this is another layer of arousal you never thought you’d experience. You cry out, landing on your forearms as you cream around Geto’s cock, erratically pulsing around him as you try to regain your breath.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” Geto groans, sinking his cock to the hilt to feel you spasm around him. He pushes some of his hair back, chest heaving as his length twitches around your pulsing walls. “Fuck Satoru, should have done this sooner.”

“Fill her up,” Gojo demands, voice coming out rushed, hand moving at lightning speed, his own orgasm on the horizon. “Give it all to her until it’s leaking out.”

The command coming from your boyfriend does not fall on deaf ears as Geto gives a few more thrusts, a lot more gentle than his previous ones but it makes your legs tremor, sensitivity from your orgasm apparent. “Just—” Geto’s hips roll forward, “a little more.”

He stills as his seed pours into you, coating your walls with his white signature.

“Fuck, fuck,” Gojo moans, cum spilling into his own hand as his chest heaves. Geto pulls out, a steady stream of his cum leaking from your quivering hole and dripping onto your thighs and the sheets below. Gojo just tsks and says, “I think she can use a bit more. Do it again.”

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