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#My brain is like a library of content
mmayawriter · 6 months
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Chapter titles from my autistic brain
1.I ain't reading all that! 2.My Love, all mine, all mine 3.Holy Mother God, you made a mistake: me 4.*Action Winter Journey starts playing in the background* Well we're fucked. 5.How ba-a-a-ad can I be? 6.How bad can I possibly be? (Let's see!) 7.Cigarette Ahegao 8.Did you not read the colony policy? 9.Why is life so vile?! 10.Naughty from Matilda is playing in my head on loop 11.I've wasted like half of my summer (tryna hold on your hand) 12."No [name], you shut up!" "Hey, that's [name]'s [object]-" .and the first line is "Not anymore!" 13.Eenie meenie miney mo, now all ya clothes gotta go! 14.Nothing's new. 15.September 1st, 1998: Dear Diary 16.Don't lose your head 17.Gretel by Soddiken is a carbon copy of my life 18.I can't handle change. 19.Chop Chop Slide 20.Was it the Boogey man? 21.I hate who I was before 22.My face will be too mingled to identify 23.Send you at a wedding in Somewhere-Stan with you as the bride 24.Honey whatcha ya waiting fo-(SHUT UP (name)!) 25.Stay in don't help yourself 26.(name)'s Inferno (excuse me sir!)
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untimelyambition · 6 months
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now that we’re on the topic i would fucking love to read through the sheet music for nerdy prudes must die… not even to play or try and put on my own performance but just so i could read it and follow along with the show to try and work out all the harmonies
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appalachianapologies · 9 months
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[random drabble to get you through the day]
“I was able to hack her stuff pretty easily.”
“That didn’t take long.” 
Riley sends Mac a look. “I’m sorry, have we met? Riley Davis, hacker extraordinaire.”
Rolling his eyes, Mac replies, “You know what I mean. What’d you find?”
“The usual. For a double or triple or quadruple—or whatever type of agent she is—Nikki doesn’t encrypt her files as much as she should. I’ve already sent the juicy stuff to Patty.”
“Nice.” Giving a nod, Mac pulls a spare wheeled chair toward Riley’s desk and sits down. “What’re you doing now, then?”
“Oh, just having some fun.”
“Should I ask?”
“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway.”
With a poorly contained smile, Mac says, “Go for it.”
“After getting the goods out of her laptop, I hacked into her phone. Weakest wifi password in the history of ever, by the way.”
“Noted.”
“And she’s been listening to Spotify for the past three or so hours, so if I were to guess, she’s probably doing some other task while listening to music in the background.”
Mac gives another nod, still not exactly sure where this is going.
“So, like I said, I decided to have a little fun, and I wrote up some quick code this morning before you and Jack got here.”
“Code for what?”
“Basically,” Riley starts, “I made it so randomly in the middle of her songs, Spotify will pause itself.”
“Is that… it?”
“Yep.”
“Riley, what the fuck?”
Turning her head away from the monitor, she looks at Mac. “What, I can’t have some fun? When I wasn’t doing hacktivist stuff, this is basically all I’d do.”
A stuttered laugh escapes Mac before he can stop it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you.”
“She’s been dormant for a while,” Riley confirms, “but I think it’s time I bring that part of me back.”
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brinkle-brackle · 9 months
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✨️trouble with a capital t✨️
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hi hello fellow trekkies please hear me out
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snowsinterlude · 5 months
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🐇 - rich, stupid, dumb girl and her nerd boyfriend.
(coriolanus snow x bimbo reader)
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summary: you loved your boyfriend just too much not to let him edge you in public
c.w: in public, reader is a bimbo, edging, fingering (f. recieving), oral (m. recieving), overstimulation, a bit of praising, dom coryo, at school sex, smut, nsfw, humiliation, explicit content, slightly degrading
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mascara running down your eyes, lipstick kisses on his hips, abdomen and neck, your boyfriend had his hand on your head as he frowned at the pleasure and the perfect sight of having you bobbing your head on his dick.
your boyfriend was such a cute nerd, always giving you the right answers to tests that you were too stupid to answer for yourself. always kissing your lips behind the books shelves. always putting you on your knees and letting his fingers open your mouth as you looked up at him, too whiny cause he tried to get you to understand something your stupid brain couldn't bare.
you were just another stupid brain dead girl who's head was good but not in the right ways- he loved the way you eagerly sucked on his dick, getting him coated in your saliva and kissing his tip as if it was the most precious thing of your life. it was just curious to see someone so dumb using it's inteligence to reproduction purposes. of course, both of you didn't mean to reproduct, but if you were to have a son or daughter, you had to pray that he/she would be just as pretty as you- but not as inteligent.
the soft grunts he let out of his mouth were the prettiest thing you could hear. no matter how many soap operas your father made you watch, the prettiest sounds were made by his throat.
you didn't have a gag reflex. every ex boyfriend you had usually would go nuts because of it. but coryo was different.
your sweet, precious, nerdy boyfriend, was bigger than your average-sized-dick exes. you didn't care- i mean, what is a bit of gagging when his dick is hitting the back of your throat? it was delicious having the chance to taste him.
that's why you were on your knees now, under the library desk as he read (or tried) to read the books in front of him. your mouth was too eager, you seemed hungry for him, pillow plump lips with smeared lipstick engulfing all you could of his inches, every single one could fit into your throat- fuck the gag reflex. you wanted him to the brim.
your thinking was delayed by his sweet words, the sweet tone of his voice cussing you for being so good at sucking a dick but being so horrible with mathematics.
"god, you're so pretty, doll. how can you be so hungry for dick?" he asked, and you moaned against his dick, incapable of giving him any proper answers. "keep going like that, okay? once i'll cum- fuck, we'll come back to studying."
"'don't wanna" you said, muffled by his cock.
"i didn't asked if you want, baby. you will." he said, pulling you by your hair to get you away from his dick. he kissed you, lips and tongue on yours. "now, sit by my side, okay?"
and you obeyed, pouting and trying to clean the lipstick stains off your lips.
his hand went to your thigh after he put his dick back inside his clothes. "c'mon, tell me. do you know the answer to that?" he pointed to a question on the book, something about maths. your worst grades were in this one class.
"i don't." you said, pouting. "c'mon, cory! let me make you cum." you begged, cleaning off the mascara stains now. "don't be such a meanie." you said, blinking your doe eyes.
"nope. answer at least one of those." and you tried, really. but then his fingers were on your damped panties going up and down your slick and you couldn't seem to think anymore. how mean of him.
"i-i don't know, coryo- stop that, if you keep on edgin' then i won't be capable of answerin'-" you slurred, almost crying from the way he was teasing you. he knew you couldn't answer things like that. not in that state.
"c'mon, doll. you know better than that." he said, and you melted almost right away.
"i don't. i swear!" you said, feeling him pull your panties to the side so he could have a better access to you.
"well, i guess you won't be cummin' today. what a shame." he said, thrusting his fingers slowly into you, curling them inside your tight cunt.
"please don't- coryoo, let me cum, please!" you begged, awkwardly bucking against his fingers only to end up mewling into his sudden kiss.
"i kissed you just because you're too loud. you know that the library doesn't permit such lewd actions of love as to kissing."
"you're f..fingering me."
"nuh-uh, i'm trying to teach you the basics of mathematics by pushing you to an edge." he said, kissing your cheek. "but if you're not answering, then maybe i should just stop."
he threatened to pull his fingers out of you, which didn’t happen due to your relentlessly bucking to his fingers. "n-no, i'll answer it! i will!-"
"then do it." he said, his thumb on your clit. "what is the second most read book in the world?"
"d...dom quixote?" you dared, mewling into his fingers, noticing how wet you were by the sounds your pussy was making on him. he gave you a proud smile, getting quicker with his fingers and promptly taking them off you when a teacher passed close by.
he sucked on those fingers, humming about how good you tasted. "such a sweet girl, it isn't even difficult to tell that you're the sweetest in taste too." he said, adjusting your pantiesnas you breathed heavily.
he's such a meanie. spent the whole day teasing you. fingering, grinding, humping, he didn’t got quiet until he accompanied you home, and now, your hands were on the wall as he pounded into you, making sure you felt every single inch of his dick inside you.
"c-cory, you'll let me cum, right? you spent the whole day- fuck! t-teasing me, edging me!" you slurred.
he nodded, kissing your neck. "promise i'll let you, doll. just keep yourself quiet. you don't want your parents to see what a slut you are, do you?"
"n-no, i don't!" you answered, holding all your moans by biting your bottom lip.
"princess," he called you "you don't need to stop moaning. just be good and less louder okay?" you nodded as an answer. the moans you let out after that, were soft grunts, hard to be held as he kept on pounding into you, even harder when his hand found your cunt again, his index on your clit.
"st-stop, coryo. it's gettin' harder to-" another moan, this time due to how he pinched your clit. "s-stop!"
"oh you want me to?"
"n-no, but-"
"no but's. you know you want it. tell me, doll. what do you want?"
"c-cum. want to cum." you begged. "please."
"hm,, i don't really want to end it right now." his pace became quicker; his lips on your shoulder and his words on your ear.
"please. just this once." you tried again, your cunt tightening around him as he pounded slowly inside you.
it was torturing. you could feel your core clenching, his dick throbbing inside you and still he didn’t want to make you cum. he was taking you over the edge.
with that in mind for the next reason you would fight with him, you trembledand squirmed when his dick kissed your uterus just the right way- when he hit the sweetest spots in your cunt that just him knew about.
you cried your eyes out, bucking against him and letting him bury himself into you- it was just too good not to let him do it. and then you were ready to cum all of your pent-up sexual teasing over his dick, and that's what you did, letting his cock be coated with your cum and moaning as you felt his cum going directly into you. rope after rope, spurt after spurt, you were filled up completely by his cum, and he quickly adjusted your panties in the right direction, kissing your temple.
"be a doll and sleep with those hm? full." he said, tapping your ass and kissing you goodbye.
being stupid with those thoughts of yours, you quickly forgot about what he said, and he knew, somehow- because on the next day he fucked you and stuffed his seed into you, he made sure to not let anything leak when he shoved your panties into you.
"don't forget about it this time." and he kissed you again, this time, you oveyed promptly and slept with his cum inside your cunt..
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onyourowndaisymae · 7 months
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"is... is that my sweater?"
satan notes the lethargic way you look up from your book, watching heavy eyelids lead a slow blink. whatever dusty tome lies in your hands has clearly lured you halfway to dreamland-- and from the looks of it, your cozy attire and the crackle of the nearby fireplace didn't seem to help much, either.
"huh?"
"are you wearing my sweater?" he asks, softer this time.
you let your head fall down to your own chest. you stare at the familiar green sweater on your body for a few moments before lifting your head.
"huh?" you repeat, too tired to comprehend the question for a long moment. then, "... oh. yeah."
a warm chuckle rumbles in his chest as he comes closer. satan had been looking for his sweater all day-- left only in a black undershirt, because it was more about the principle of finding it than needing it-- but he had been wholly unaware he'd left it in your room earlier that day. he couldn't bring himself to regret it, though. you look quite cozy cuddled up on the library sofa like that, swaddled in a blanket and his scent, lost in some book like a vision from an old painting. how he wishes he'd been a little quieter entering the library-- maybe he could have snapped a photo of you like this for himself.
as your lover, satan knows he should probably escort you to bed for a proper rest. but a selfish part of him wants to bask in this scene longer, to let the storm that rages in him find solace at this little slice of heaven. it's odd for a demon to crave peace like this. you've domesticated him in that way-- like a feral cat off the street finding comfort in a stranger's apartment, you've lulled him into a sense of contentness he didn't think he'd find in this lifetime.
oh, what a wonder you are.
"do you mind a little company?"
you nod, sleepily, yawning through what was intended to be a verbal response, but satan's at your side before you make yourself try again. his hand finds your shoulder and coaxes you to sit up. with a little adjusting, he slides into the space behind you and urges you to lean back into his chest. his legs stay on either side of you-- it's warm, comforting, doing nothing to help you stay awake. but it doesn't seem like satan minds your drowsiness.
his eyes fall to the nearly discarded book in your hands. emerald eyes scan over the words. they're familiar, causing a curious itch in his brain that lingers for a few seconds before his epiphany.
"is this... that book i read last week?"
"mhmm. i wanted--" another yawn, "-- to understand what you were talking about, but... i got sleepy."
he understands now. his sweater on your warm body, the library couch, the low fire nearby-- you're indulging in a small taste of his world.
what did he do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?
"i can read it to you, if you'd like," he murmurs, low and quiet. if you wanted the full experience, he'd give it to you-- complete with a nap in his arms. it's selfish, though. he really just wants an excuse to admire you up close, to lose himself in thought about how much he truly, deeply adores you. sometimes the sensation is so overwhelming that it shows on his face in flushed cheeks and soft eyes-- and that is a little too embarrassing to be caught with by anyone, but especially by you.
when you snuggle into his chest, he begins to read from the top of the page where you left off. it doesn't take long for your breathing to even out, your body to grow still and heavy in his grasp. he slides the bookmark between old pages where you originally left off. satan predicts you'll forget most everything he read to you by the time you wake up.
his mind wanders to the soundtrack of your peaceful breathing. he's grateful for lazy days like this. being able to bask in your presence is a gift. to know that you yourself were creating a similar experience by hiding away in one of his favorite reading spots, well... he's lucky you're asleep, as the flush on his cheeks only grows hotter at the thought.
maybe he'll let you borrow his things more often.
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ellecdc · 1 month
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helloooo, I am not the one who requested the reactions to a needy reader but I would love to see the reactions when they’re NOT in a relationship! Please and thank you ❤️❤️😘
ooooooou ok ok ok ok based off of this ficlet-ish thing here, the original prompt was:
how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk) would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀
so, this is the not in a relationship edition: mature content ahead, viewer discretion is advised
James:
turns so red
eyebrows raised so far up his forehead that his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose
takes him a few moments to restart his brain
nervous laughing
"oh, erm, haha, well...I mean...I, I'm not sure what it is you're looking for but, erm, well...."
he does eventually spit it out that he'll help you out if you were serious
I think he'd be the kind of guy that it would be like, super casual? sort of transactional/you two kind of giggling or bumbling your way through it -> "ow!" "oh shit, sorry, y'alright?" "yeah, sorry, can we just.." "like this?" "yeah that's better" like, giggling fits through out sort of deal
either way, he does help you out - you both agree to let each other know when you can help the other out again
Sirius:
cocks an eyebrow at you and looks you up and down with a salacious smirk
"is that so?"
he let's that sit in the air for a few minutes as he shifts in his seat and returns his 'focus' to his books (though he's anything but focused now), still wearing a shit-eating grin
"if only there was someone here to help you with that."
you start looking around the room to see if there is indeed someone who will help you with that, seeing as Sirius is obviously fucking useless
you finally sigh "I'll go see if anyone in the common room is game"
he slams his books shut and hastily grabs his things, grabbing you roughly and dragging you out of the library
absolutely fucking ravishes you in a broom closet - you're worried you won't be able to walk back out on your own
leaves marks on you just to prove a point
"you're not going to find anyone else who can make you feel better than me, doll. let me know when you find yourself needing my help again"
Remus:
definitely a little blushy; I see him being somewhat shy at first if he doesn't know you too well / doesn't know where exactly he stands with you because he'd never want to make anyone feel uncomfortable
likely ask you to "come again"
when you tell him that's exactly what you're trying to do (😉😉😉) he's blushing again and laughing nervously as he looks back at his book/whatever he'd been doing prior to that
get's a little stuck in his head about it: you were bold enough to complain to him, should he be bold enough to offer you his help? is that even what you were trying to accomplish? were you just confiding in him as a friend? who complains to their friends about being horny? would someone like you even want a guy like him?
well, what's he got to lose by offering? if you laugh in his face, he can just avada himself later (rem has a dark sense of humour, sorry)
finally clears his throat and awkwardly offers his assistance if you want, though he refuses to make eye contact with you as he does.
he's surprised by how quickly you accept but he hastily finds an empty class room and spreads you out on a desk to go down on you - he doesn't want you returning the favour; he's hoping if he makes you feel good, you might come back for more
Regulus:
see, him I see getting shy and walking away
face blanches when he realizes what you've admitted
perhaps he's not sure you were actually asking him/if you were simply confiding in him
basically sits frozen in his spot until he can't take it anymore
says something stupidly awkward like "well.....good luck with that!" and hastily leaves the room
definitely bangs his head against the wall in his dorm when he realizes what a fuck up that was
absolutely jerks off in the shower later fantasizing about all the ways that conversation could have gone differently
Barty:
I think it'd be the same as the other fic?
"Barty? I'm, erm, well....I'm feeling kind of......needy?"
Barty shrugs and just stops whatever he's doing, turns to you and says "okay, take your clothes off/lift your skirt"
and then suddenly you're like "........????"
rolls his eyes at you. "well? do you want my help or not?"
"I, uhm, well...."
"Salazars saggy balls, no wonder you're so strung tight - no one will fuck you if you can't get a simple yes out."
"yes! Okay, yes....." you admit finally
shit eating grin spreads across his face
"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into"
.....all this to say, he certainly helps you out lol
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midnightarcheress · 1 month
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it wasn't my initial plan but let's go stalker!gaz again <3
cw: nsfw. stalking. obsessive gaz. perv gaz in denial lol. f!reader. part one | part two
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Kyle sees you again. it's totally coincidental, of course.
the first time was in the market. he had postponed a grocery run for far too long, and a man can’t live solely on takeout, so he headed to the nearest store. walking down the pavement, he sees the familiar blue logo across the street, the same one from your hoodie, and the image of your pearly smile comes fully into his mind for the first time after the encounter.
he had been too obsessive that day, and a part of him felt disgusted by his behaviour. he’s a good man, a good soldier, not one of the creeps in white vans studying women like a hunter waiting to attack their prey. so he shoved the temptation to search for you in the back of his brain, tucked away in a corner with the rest of his dysfunctional urges.
but the other side, the one he maintains caged when he’s home, kept calling for him, itching for the surface, almost slipping his fingers to his cell phone so he could engage in the pursuit of the sweet little thing that invaded his lustful dreams. a side that he managed to hide until his gaze laid on your form on the frozen food aisle.
you looked just as stunning as he remembered. glossy lips, pretty plush thighs, delicate fingers pushing the shopping cart around. your hair was in a ponytail, easy grab, sports bra neatly holding your soft tits, could be my hands, a small drop of sweat sneaking down your exposed lower back, the mere sight making his cock twitch in his trousers. of course you go to the gym. i can train with you. how about some hip thrusts with you on– no. he can’t be thinking like that again.
he bites back the urge to follow you. or even spark a conversation, to test if you’re good with faces. it would be weird. but then he gets lost in the movements of your hips, in how gorgeous you look slightly bent down at the waist, reaching for a lower shelf and prancing your ass up, in how easy it would be to cause you any harm in that position. wouldn’t even hear me sneaking up with those headphones on. 
the second time was outside of a cafe. he had just ordered a coffee and was waiting by the counter, aimlessly looking out the front window when he saw you, walking out of a bookstore with a big bag. hi, sweetheart. he promptly steps out the door, the barista calling his name fading in the background as he rushes to you. or at least, rushes to a safe distance from you. 
he wishes nothing more than to take the heavy bag from you, interlock his fingers with yours and stroll back to his flat like a perfectly happy couple. he’d even build bookshelves for you. buy you an entire library, if you wanted. make you tea while you read, caress your hair, lazily eat you out for hours, hearing your muffled moans as you try to remain focused– fuck, quit it, Garrick.
but he doesn’t quit. he can’t. not when you’re so beautiful, so easy, so soft. such a good girl. not when he notices some guys eyeing you up on the street and he silently curses the lack of a weapon on his hand. not when you look over your shoulder and don't see him as a threat. do you recognize me, love? not when he finally looks at his surroundings and realises that he’s in his street and that you’re entering the building across from his. 
he takes that discovery as a sign from the universe. it must be fate that you’re so close to me, right? it’s a blessing, a sign from god that his thoughts are justified. the green light he was waiting to reveal the worst part of him, to unleash the demon gnawing at his self-control.
with a few clicks, he finds all of your socials. too easy. some were restricted, some were open, and some barely had content, but he doesn’t mind, the few pictures on your instagram are enough. at another time, he’d teach you about online safety – how there are bad people out in the world who yearn for an easy catch, and how a smart girl like you shouldn’t allow it.
his dick aches in his boxers as he studies every pixel of your photos. he feels it throbbing, leaking, painfully craving for any kind of friction, but he refuses to provide. he knows that once he starts, he would never stop, and the idea of spending his cum on anywhere that isn’t you – your cute little mouth, displayed on your tummy, your warm cunt – is not worthy.
the third time was in a pub. he had finally caught you on your kitchen window, looking a little too dressed up to be staying at home and downing what seemed like a shot of vodka. so, when you stepped on the sidewalk, he knew he had to follow you. pretty girl going out at night? alone? not on my watch.
the bar is a couple blocks from where you live, known for being filled with college students. very different from his crowd, but he doesn’t care, watching you from afar acts like a remedy for the headache caused by the loud noise of the place. just a peek at your sheer blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath was sufficient to clear his heart of any cracks. 
but, not everything is perfect, and he immediately tags the face making its way to you. Marcus. just as ugly as in the tiny contact picture he saw. fuck, is she back with him? 
he gets his answer quickly – you push him aside and go back to your friends, chugging the rest of your pint like a lifeline. good girl. the man's left with an open mouth and shocked expression, and Kyle doesn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes. 
the next few minutes are a blur. Marcus stepped out in the back for some fresh air after nearly throwing up due too many drinks, and he didn't notice the guy following him. stupid prick, should've used your brain. 
Kyle re-enters the bar in no time, thumb brushing the edge of the switchblade in his pocket. he admires you in your booth – lips parted in a laugh, locks of hair cascading on your face, and a hazy aura pairing over you. well, aren't we tipsy, sweetheart? good thing i'm here to look over you.
he heads to the counter to get a drink, and he almost jumps when you appear by his side, finishing your tab for the night. your eyes shine when they land on his, brightness shared by your wide grin, “hey, i know you! you're the plane guy!” 
you do recognize me. fate. he gives you a once over, feigning that he doesn't instantly recall your face to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest. like he hasn’t been dreaming about stuffing your pussy with his thick cock and hearing your mewls every night. “yup, that's me.”
“nice seeing you again– oh, are you alright? you got some,” you motion to his forearm, “blood on you.” 
shit. he forgot he needed to clean up after his last activity. his mind scrambles to find an excuse, but a thought pops in his brain and he can't contain the growing bulge in his pants. look at you worried about me, love. such a sweet girl. “it's nothing, i was just a little clumsy,” he brushes off, watching the concern on your face evolve into a timid smile, “you leaving already?” 
“yeah, got an early day tomorrow. shouldn't drink too much,” you answer, putting your jacket back on. he stays glaring at you, mind too blank to form a coherent sentence. alone? this late? drunk? do you even know how many men are lurking outside, waiting for a minor slip-up to rip you open? “so... goodnight, then.” you say, giving the counter one last tap and heading to the door. think fast.
“wait!” he calls out, “you shouldn't go alone, it isn't safe.” your head tilts to the side, and his eyes trail down your pretty neck, just begging to be bitten. focus, Garrick.
“it's just a couple blocks from here, it's alright.” no. no it isn't. don't be stubborn, sweetheart. do you want me to throw you over my shoulder for being a brat? give your pretty ass a slap?
his eyes narrow, but the soft smile on his lips does a damn good job of luring you in – a trick he learned over the years. “may i walk you home then? i'd hate to see something bad happen to a sweet girl like you.”
you ponder for a moment. you shouldn’t accept, he’s still a stranger, and if the alcohol wasn’t fuzzing your brain, you would say no. but his smile is so convincing, the dog tags around his neck are so reassuring of his good intentions that you don’t even notice when you nod. 
he smirks, and the tent between his legs gets even bigger. he’s such a good man. won’t let anything stain your soft, pure flesh. i’ll protect you, sweet girl.
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badgerbl00d · 1 year
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one piece boys getting jealous pt.2
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☆ characters: law, shanks, kidd
☆ up next: making one piece boys considering fatherhood
☆ summary: what happens when you pair pirates, a pretty lady, and another man finding her attractive? jealousy! , suggestive content
☆ a/n: law fever is rotting my brain.. suggest characters for part three!
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☆ part 1 here!
law
1.26k words
“Hopefully we can come up with something good,” Law explained, “Or this whole plan is going to fall apart pretty quickly.”
You gently pat his back as you walked with him, “You will, Captain.”
He smiled, appreciative of the gesture. 
You both stopped in front of an intricate hand-carved wooden door with a gorgeous brass handle. 
You both lightly laughed at the breathtaking beauty of the door.
The Straw Hats’ shipwright didn’t cut corners. 
“Nicest library entrance you’ve ever seen in your life or what?” you joked, opening the door. 
He laughed and you felt a strong hand on your back guiding you into the library on the Thousand Sunny. 
Sanji was in the library reading and stood up as soon as you walked in.
“Y/n!” 
You waved, walking over towards him.
Law begrudgingly followed. 
He didn’t dislike any of the straw hats, but he also didn’t have a fondness for the flirty cook who couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you. 
“I was just about to start dinner,” he whispered, “Care for a drink?”
Law rolled his eyes. Was the whispering necessary when he was standing less than five feet away?
“Oh! I’d love to!”
Law sighed, “I’m gonna head to the meeting room, Y/n.”
“Okay,” you replied, “I’ll see you later then?”
He nodded, giving you a soft smile before turning to Sanji and excusing himself. 
The cook didn’t miss how his fists clenched at his sides on his way out.
“Ready for a drink?” Sanji asked you.
“Ready!”
He responded with some french expression and led you towards the kitchen with him. 
Once there you offered to help Sanji with cooking dinner and stationed yourself in front of the window. 
He took a few things out of the oven and you watched as he rubbed a lime wedge around the rim of a shot glass. 
What the hell is she doing?
Law watched you through the kitchen window, washing vegetables, holding a pretty drink, 
taking sips as you laughed at whatever unfunny thing the straw hat cook what saying.
He had brought you on board with him because he knew you liked their company but this wasn’t supposed to be some play date.  
It was a strategy meeting.
For him, at least. 
He lost track of what Luffy and Robin were saying as he watched the two of you through the window. 
Sanji placed an apron over you, gently tying the strings to fit you. Clearly looking down at your breasts. 
He looked up, making eye contact with Law, catching onto the glare the surgeon was giving him.
Law watched a subtle smile spread across the cook’s face.
Pervert.
He heard Luffy mention something or other, no doubt a useless strategy he would refute if he were thinking straight, but all he could imagine was if he were standing in Sanji’s place. 
He’d be making something different that’s for sure. 
Law knew you hated carrots, but he also knew you’d never complain about anything and felt his fists clench as he watched you politely wash the vegetables. 
He also knew you hated alcohol but watched you sip your drink anyway. 
You were too nice for your own good, and Law felt like he had the responsibility of making sure you weren’t taken advantage of. 
You washed the last of the vegetables and placed them in a bowl.
“Let me help with more,” you insisted, “I’m no chef but I could cut these.”
“Of course! As long as you don’t get hurt.”
You giggled, “Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse,” you jokingly gestured over toward the room Law was in. 
You started chopping away at some carrots, stopping when you realized yours were a lot less even than Sanji’s.
“Want some tips?” 
You nodded, slightly embarrassed. 
Sanji stood behind you.
You felt his chest against your back and he softly placed his hands on top of yours, showing you the correct motions to use when chopping.   
You stood still, letting Sanji’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on top of yours, continuing your previous conversation.
Law looked up again and saw red. 
He knew the cook wasn’t stupid, and that you were probably appreciative of the attention he was giving you.
He broke the pencil in his hand and tensed his jaw.
He looked ready to explode and Luffy and Robin turned around to look at what had pissed him off. 
“Mugiwara-ya,” he started, his stomach twisting, “Tell your pervert of a cook to get his hands off my sniper.” 
Law was seething.
Luffy turned to look into the kitchen and laughed, “Don’t worry, Traffy! Sanji is always nice to women.”
Robin who had also turned to look and stood up, a sly smile spreading across her face as excused herself, making her way towards you and Sanji. 
Law’s nerves worsened, Shit, shit, shit. 
He knew Robin had most likely caught onto what his anger was about.
He didn’t need anyone else to know how he felt about you. 
It was difficult enough for him, and he’d rather cut off his hands than let you find out. 
He felt trapped.
Luffy was yapping nonstop, none of which he was registering. 
He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and felt sweat forming on his forehead.
This was going to ruin everything. He was awkward and non-sociable. He didn’t make you fancy drinks and wasn’t naturally romantic, and most importantly he was about one hundred percent certain you didn’t feel the same way. 
He felt nauseous as he watched Robin open the kitchen door and approach the two of you. 
He watched you and Sanji look up at him. 
His stomach dropped. 
You turned towards Robin, a concerned expression taking over your face, starting to put away what you were doing.
You approached the door, but Sanji stopped you.
He untied the apron he had placed on you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, whispering something to you. 
That was it. 
Law stood up and slammed the door open, marching straight toward the kitchen.
Luffy followed in hot pursuit, confused. 
The kitchen door swung open and Law almost ran into you. 
“Blackleg,” Law started, “What exactly do you think you’re doing with her?”
“Cooking,” Sanji responded, playing innocent. 
“I’m sorry, Captain,” you started, a very shameful appearance on your face, “Robin told me.”
Law let out a short exhale, still glaring at Sanji.
Robin… what?
Law’s heart dropped and he looked at you, eyes slightly widened. 
“She told me that I should’ve been helping you strategize,” you explained, “I completely forgot that I had the blueprints and your notebook with me.”
Law exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, flooding with relief, “Right- the, uh, the blueprints. Could you bring them?”
You nodded, turning towards Sanji, “Thanks for the drink! I appreciate you making it non-alcoholic for me!”
Law felt like his head might explode. 
Of course, he had made you a non-alcoholic drink. 
“Anytime, mon Coeur,” Sanji grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. 
“Room.”
You found yourself next to Law walking back towards the room he’d been in. 
“Don’t get distracted next time,” he scolded you.
You nodded, not saying anything. 
You felt Law take your hand in his, brushing off where you’d been kissed, before holding it. 
Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red. 
“Sanji, you ought to be more careful,” Robin said, making sure Law was still within earshot, “I never would've taken him as the jealous type!”
shanks
1.2k words
Shanks never got jealous. 
And if he was anything, he was confident. It was no secret that he had a woman waiting for him on every island and that he could have anyone he wanted. 
Except you. 
The newest addition to the crew and the most beautiful. 
He’d traveled the world, all four seas, and never once come across anything as gorgeous as you. 
Not a single thing compared to any part of you. 
Unfortunately, Beckman seemed to agree. 
He watched as the two of you sat and talked, sharing a bottle of wine, no less. 
Any progress he seemed to make with you, or any time you seemed to be reciprocating his affections, he’d find you and Benn together the next day. 
“I’m kind of hoping being at sea all the time will eventually get less nauseating,” you said. 
Benn laughed, “It will! The first time I set sail I was seasick for three weeks. Thought I’d never accommodate and was just about getting ready to hang up any hopes of being a pirate.”
“What changed?”
“Shanks helped, actually. Told me to try sucking on mints. Worked wonders.”
“Mints?”
“Yeah,” he explained, “Apparently they have a numbing effect which ends up canceling out nausea. He has them on hand all the time.” 
You took a sip of your wine, “Maybe I should ask him for some.”
“Just be careful with him,” Benn teased, “He can be a handful. Mind giving me a light?”
You leaned over towards him, holding your lighter to the cigarette between his lips. 
“Do you know where he is?” you said, standing up, downing the rest of the wine in your glass.
“Try his bedroom, he might still be sleeping. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being woken up by you though,” Benn said, a sly look spreading over his face. 
You’d have asked what he meant if nausea hadn’t already started to set back in. 
You knocked on his bedroom door lightly, trying to steady your breathing as you weren’t sure if you felt like fainting or throwing up.
“Um... Captain?” you called out, “I know it’s early but, uh, I was wondering if you had any mints?”
This was awkward. You should probably feel more comfortable talking to the man who invited you to be a part of his crew.
You waited by the door for a few minutes with no answer. 
You groaned and decided that you’d have a peek inside only to see if he was sleeping and if he was you’d.. well, you didn’t know.
It would probably be weird to go in and wake him. 
You took a deep breath in and slowly turned the handle, opening the door as little as possible to see if he was inside. 
“Whatcha lookin’ for, baby?”
A strong voice called out to you from the end of the hall.
You nearly passed out.
“Captain!! I was- I was just- Oh my God, I’m so sorry I know how this looks I was just looking for you because Beckman said that you might still be sleeping and I needed-”
Shanks held up a dismissive hand to cut you off. 
“Cute,” he said, looking at how your cheeks deepened in color, “But if you wanted some time in my bedroom with me you could always just ask.”
A flirty smile settled onto his face, and he wasn’t shy about holding eye contact. 
You averted your eyes to the floor and tried to explain again, “I need a mint. Benn said I could ask you for one since you carry them all the time.”
His smile faltered for a split second, “And what would you and Benn need a mint for?”
Your cheeks darkened even more and you felt embarrassment creeping up your neck and onto your face.
“Oh, n-no it’s nothing like that! I just-,” you paused not exactly wanting to admit to your captain that you got seasick very easily, an arguably bad trait for a pirate to have.
“Hm,” Shanks tossed you two mints with a wink, “Give him a high five for me.”
“It’s not like that!”
Your protests fell on deaf ears, as he was already on his way out. 
The rest of your day was calm. The sea seemed to have taken pity on you and the waves evened out after your first mint. 
You’d found a spot on the upper deck of the ship earlier in the week. A corner tucked behind the captain’s office, where the railing was wide enough to sit quite comfortably on and you got a nice view of the sunset. 
It was nice to have a serene little spot to yourself where you could enjoy the peace and quiet. You turned the corner, ready to relax, when you saw Shanks sat on your ledge.
“Came to find me sweetheart?”
“Sorry to intrude,” you started, “Didn’t know this was your spot.”
Shanks laughed, “It is directly behind my room you know.”
“Right, yeah.”
You awkwardly shuffled your feet.
“I get really seasick,” you said before you could think it through.
Shanks looked at you with amusement, though you could tell he didn’t really understand.
“That’s why I needed a mint. I got nauseous and felt faint and I asked Benn for help and he told me to ask you. Said you’d helped him with the same thing.”
An irritatingly sly smile spread across his face.
You bit your lip, not wanting to say anything, but clearly irritated at his enjoyment of the fact. 
“What the hell is that face supposed to mean?”
“Sweetheart, you just made my day,” he said. 
“Is that so?” You understood what was going on pretty clearly now.
He nodded, standing up and extending a hand toward you.
You hesitantly took it. 
He pulled you in towards him and placed a hand on your lower back, leaning you slightly backward and bringing his face to hover over yours. 
“How could I not be hurt that such a beautiful woman was showing no interest in me?”
“I assume that means me,” you teased.
“It does.”
“And what makes you think I’m interested now?”
“Well, aside from the fact that you have no protest to my current hand placement, you were very clearly interested in the prospect of joining me in the bedroom earlier-” 
A harsh slap to his arm cut the rest of that sentence off. 
He let out a loud, hearty laugh.
“You are very handsome, Captain,” you started.
“Please go on.”
“But I can’t say I’m terribly interested,” you said. 
“And why is that?”
“You know every man in this world has heard of your terrifying power. How strong and feared you are.”
His face was gleaming with pride. 
You laughed to yourself. He really thought he had you wrapped around his finger.
“But every woman? Every woman has heard of-”
“My muscles?”
“No.”
“Then surely, my devastatingly good looks?”
 “Also no.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“How quickly you leave the morning after.”
He stood still, completely silenced.
You leaned towards him, hovering your lips millimeters away from his.
“But I have to admit that I liked seeing you jealous.”
You gently pulled his hands from your waist, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Captain.”
kidd
1.1k words
Generally speaking, dealing with men was a daily occurrence you could do without. 
You were getting better at turning them down, and in your years of experience learned that the best course of action was to bat your eyes and appeal to them, maybe even adopt an apologetic tone, and softly say to them,
“I’m so sorry! I’m just not looking for anything right now.”
Telling them you had a boyfriend only encouraged them to try harder, being rude invited violence and the use of the word ‘bitch’, and ignoring them often led to all of the above. 
Of course, if you decided to tell them who your boyfriend was they’d probably leave you alone but it was probable that you’d be accused of lying and you hated having to use his name to be shown some respect or decency. 
Ideally, your boyfriend would never know. 
The only thing he didn’t seem to be able to control was his temper, and if there was one thing you didn’t want to deal with it was how unbearably possessive he got when he was upset. 
And since the majority of the time it was innocent flirting, you just brushed it off. 
You woke up and stretched yourself out on the bed, pulling the covers off of you and Kidd.
“There’s a farmer’s market in town today! Wanna come? I really want peaches and we don’t grow any here.” 
He groaned and rolled over on his side, facing away from you. 
You grabbed his bicep and placed kisses up and along his neck, your movement and eagerness urging him to wake up. 
“Please! You never go out with me,” you said, the tone of your voice pulling at a few of his heartstrings. 
“I can’t today.”
“You never can.”
You sat up and moved toward the edge of the bed. 
The pirate stayed in bed, silently. 
“I have… stuff to do, princess,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him. 
You couldn’t help but smile at his embrace, you knew this was the closest you’d get to an apology. 
“Alright,” you said, “Well I’m gonna go now before it gets too hot out.” 
He begrudgingly let go of you, watching as you disappeared into your closet. 
He was in a worse mood than usual throughout the entirety of the day and spent his time huffing and puffing around. 
He felt guilty that he hadn’t given you the attention he knew you deserved and when he checked the clock and saw it was half past four in the afternoon and you still weren’t back he had to stop himself from breaking everything in the room. 
He contained the oncoming rampage as best he could and made his way toward the village. He walked through crowds of people and his irritation was nearing its peak when he saw you.
You had a basket full of different fruits and vegetables and jarred things and a few different wine bottles. It looked heavy and you were clearly struggling to carry it. 
He had half a mind to take some of the weight off with a string or two, but decided against it, his irritation getting the best of him. 
You made your way to another stall, selling flowers and before you could place your basket on the floor, a young man offered to carry it for you. 
He was smiling from ear to ear, and much to the captain’s disgust looked extremely eager to help you. 
You smiled back and accepted his offer, handing him the basket, which he happily held for you. 
At least she doesn’t have to carry it, he thought, his cheeks turning red with anger. 
But he stayed standing where he was and decided to watch the scene before him play out.
You grabbed a few different flower bouquets and turned to the boy to ask for his opinion, it seemed you liked the dark red carnations. 
He nodded and you reached into your pockets to grab a few coins. 
You laughed when your hand came out empty and began placing the flowers back.
Before you could the boy interjected and offer the vendor a few berries.  
Kidd’s body temperature reached a peak and he saw red. 
He violently pushed people out of his way, walking towards you, causing a scene as he yelled, “Oi! If you need money, I have some!!!”
Fuck.
You recognized his voice and turned around as though you’d just been caught in the middle of a murder.
“Kidd! I thought you were busy today-”
“Don’t,” he said, turning towards the boy, his metallic hand making its way toward his throat, “I suggest you hand me the basket and fuck off.”
Your cheeks were red with embarrassment and you offered an apologetic look to the boy, who looked ready to cry. 
You placed the flowers in your basket- the vendor readily waved any charge - and with Kidd’s hand firmly set on your waist, made your way back to the ship. 
“You know he was just being nice, right? And it’s your fault I needed help carrying the basket since you were busy doing ‘stuff’.” 
The air quotes you placed around stuff pissed him off. 
He stayed silent and you knew that he felt bad. 
But you didn’t really care, and you were pissed off. Not only had he caused a scene, but he had pretty much ensured that any other shopping you had planned for the day would have to be left unfinished. 
“And if you really want something to be upset about, you should probably know that I didn’t even pay for half of those things because when men see a pretty woman all on her own, they figure she needs some help and are always more than ready to offer it.”
The veins on Kidd’s forehead were popping out and he clamped his mouth shut. 
“But I get it! Playing poker and building legos with Killer all day is more important, so don’t get upset at me or the man actually offering to help me.”
You stormed off once you got to the ship and ignored him for the rest of the night. 
Heat and Wire laughed their asses off at their moping captain, and Killer went to have some tea with you later that night. 
When you went shoe shopping the following day, Kidd made sure he was by your side the entire time, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t get him to let go of your hand. 
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5K notes · View notes
aniharas · 2 months
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𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦)
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pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader
summary: felix's lack of control over his deep feelings for you, his revisions partner, begins to spiral him into a sick and twisted sense of keeping you as his.
warnings: explicit language, sexual tension & content, themes of purity and corruption, use of cigarettes and alcohol
wc: 2.1k+
Maybe Felix Catton wasn’t the mindless pretty boy at Oxford like everyone had chalked him up to be. Maybe he was, at least until he saw you.
At first, he wasn’t exactly the most excited when he found out his revisions partner was you, a scholarship girl. A first-class student. Always buried in textbooks nonstop, always holed up with nerdy little books doing your nerdy little homework. He never found people like you any fun, so he braced himself for a snoozefest as you plopped down into the armchair beside him.
But Felix couldn’t have ever been more wrong about the pureness that was you. Sickly sweet, serene you. Skin tantalizingly covered by whatever shoddy arrangements Oxfam provided. Black-rimmed glasses with a prescription so high, it made your bambi-like eyes bulge out of your head. Voice so sugary, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. You were a prude by all means, but you made it look so damn good. God forbid the tutor asked him anything about your essay, it was fuck all in his brain. And god forbid anyone asked him to make sense of what he felt for you.
And so he eagerly showed up to each revision. It started with the simplest of gestures. Holding the door open for you, carrying your books. He noticed you always walked home alone after each session at night, so he took it upon himself to escort you back to your dorm safely. 
And then it was gifts. Things that he could nonchalantly pass off as having extra of. Packaged sweets from the dining hall, an extra No. 2 pencil. He even tried to offer you a cigarette as the two of you strolled across campus. Of course, being the modest girl you were, you refused. He was glad that you did. You were responsible, you were good. He loved that about you.
But it wasn’t enough. Those brief, one-hour sessions were far from enough. Being the workaholic you were, you were hard to find around campus; that bit irked him. The whole “girl” thing was second-nature to him. They came to him in swarms, in fact. Why were you never there? That was fine with him, he liked the chase. He’d find a way.
“Tutor you? Felix, I think you’re doing fine–” “Codswallop, and you know it. You, on the other hand…you’re exceptional.” “I don’t think I’m exactly qualified enough-” “I do.”
And these newfound tutoring sessions were far better than what he had been getting. He never thought he’d look forward to being in a tutorial for hours in a stiff library chair, but the very thought consumed his waking days. Because it was you, dressed in your hand-me-down school jumper, brows adorably furrowed as you hastily scribbled notes across the margins of his essays. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing, but he occasionally found himself misspelling words just to see you get irritated with him. 
“Sometimes it slips my mind that you’re a rich kid. Until I remember we’re at Oxford and this is what you wrote,” you had said one time. Had it been from anyone else, he would’ve blown a fuse. But it was you, who always snuck in bites of your Crunchie between each sentence. You were so genuine, so oblivious to the world around you. He could never be upset with you.
Which is why he felt responsible for you. But how could he protect you when you were so elusive? He considered himself blessed if he found you at King’s Arms on the weekends, or anywhere at all. And blessed he was, on a Friday night, just before Oxford let out for the holidays.
It was you, accompanied by your trashy roommates. “Come on, just once before you go home,” they had whined as they pushed you through the doors. Upon this rare sighting, Felix decided that the story he was entertaining his table with was pointless, ceasing his conversation. It was like he was in a trance, the way he stood from his seat and gravitated toward you. Wordlessly, he plucked you away from your roommates. He figured you were better off with him.
It was clear that you weren’t used to any sort of bar culture, and while he found that endearing, he made sure to look over you. He booted a girl from his group just so he could seat you next to him, all while making sure you didn’t see the nasty glare she gave you. 
Assigning himself as your drink-sitter, he carefully scrutinized whatever you ended up drinking. Any strong liquors that came your way were quickly confiscated, much to Farleigh’s disdain (although he was placated once the extra shots were passed along to him). All you had to your name was a modest mug of beer, which you sipped at tentatively as you tried to make sense of the conversation around you.
You had gotten through one beer, though you were struggling about halfway through your refill. Despite that, Felix was in awe of you. The whining as he took the cup away, the mindlessly giggling at a joke one of the girls told, the fidgeting with the hem of your jumper. How could someone make drinking look so innocent? 
“My face is hot.” “You’ve got a buzz going. It’s quite a look.” “A good one or a bad one?” “A bit of a naughty one.” He quickly earned a punch in the arm from you.
And this was far better than the revisions or the tutoring. To finally discuss something other than academics with you was refreshing. He found himself recounting all of his stories, even the ones he had already told that night, just so he could hear you laugh at everything he said. It was a melody in his ears, a tiny bell jingling beside him.
Once the company began to fall out, Felix took you to get a breath of fresh air just beside the entrance of the pub. “D’you need anyone to take you home?” “Nooo, my roommates are heading back anyways.” “You sure? I can–” “Oh, you’re too kind. Why don’t you have a lover yet?”
The question was so forward and sudden, he couldn’t help but be surprised. You were definitely tipsy.  “Huh…haven’t given much thought to it.” “Well, you should.” “And that means?” “They’d be lucky.”
Felix couldn’t help it; he was out of control, cradling your face into his hands as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. They were indeed hot, you weren’t lying about that. There was silence, anticipation with a bated breath, and then your lips were all that he felt. If anyone was watching, and they most likely were, it was like he was holding himself back. Jaw tensed, muscles taut, brows scrunched. It almost looked like he was in pain.
And he was in pain, his restraint being tested every second he kissed you. Trying so desperately to not have his way with you, to take you home and screw you into his dorm mattress. That’s not the type of person you were.
But boy, did you make it difficult. The mere act of placing your hands against his chest, pressing your body against his. Again, painfully obvious this wasn’t something you did often, but that made it all the more perfect to him. He intended to keep you that way, which is why he let go.
The confusion that overtook your features made him regret his decision more and more, twisting his insides with guilt for leaving you hanging. Your lips, donning a soft shine, mouthed his name, but any sound went fuzzy in his ears. The more he stared at them, the more that forbidden feeling stirred inside of him.
Mumbling an apology, he abruptly stepped back, not even sure of what he was even doing. He had to get away, head home. It was ironic, to long for you so deeply but to hold himself back from indulging in you. He was never one to shy away from what he desired; it was his very nature, his reputation. But he couldn’t just use a girl like you to scratch one of his sexual itches, how could he bring himself to?
And so, Felix turned his back on you, not uttering another word. He pushed through the crowded walkway in a blind frenzy, ignoring the people who tried to strike up conversation. Never once looking back. 
Soon enough, he heaved the grand doors open to his hall, ready to sleep off the feeling until a sultry voice called to him from his right. Annabel. Apparently she had been waiting for him.
It wasn’t long before she was straddled across his lap, basically eating away at the lower half of his face as she eagerly fumbled with his belt buckle. That’s what turned him off about her. Too eager, too annoying. It played a part as to why he had kept his distance from her, but for that night, she was better than nothing.
As she slipped off his lap to kneel on the messy floor of his dorm, his mind drifted elsewhere. The desperate girl in front of him disappeared, then you were there, just as he left you. Staring up at him behind your obnoxious glasses, your bottom lip trembling. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Would you even know how to do this sort of thing? 
If he allowed himself, he’d guide you, gripping a part of your hair. Not tight enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to get leverage. He’d watch as your pretty lips parted to take him in, taking your sweet time. Your mouth would be soft and hot, your tongue shifting about awkwardly underneath him. He bet that you’d have it down quickly; you were good at most things, being a quick learner. Perhaps there would be a few scrapes from your canines as you bobbed up and down, if he were to be realistic. But the sting was more than alright with him.
Felix always prided in himself for his ability to give a girl a good, long time. Why else would they flock to him by the dozens? So what was so different about you that made him feel like he was already about to burst the seams?
Because it was still you, sickly sweet and serene you, lips wrapped around him and devouring him like the candy you always loved. Your eyes would water, but he’d gladly wipe away each drop that managed to escape. It left him a whiny mess. Sweat prickling at his forehead, ragged breaths heaving his shoulders up and down, white-knuckling your hair.
And when he’d come close, he’d let you know. You didn’t like being caught off-guard. Your heavy disdain for pop-quizzes or his endless pranks of sneaking up behind you made that apparent. But he prided himself in knowing these things about you, that he was able to gather it all from your little ramblings. 
You liked American reality TV. Disliked gel pens. Loved your chips overdone. A ridiculous query crossed his mind. Would you like spitting or swallowing? Or would you rather it all over you? From how your lips were glued to him, it seemed like swallowing. But that made him hesitate. You would never like such a thing. You were squeamish around anything sticky or slimy. Cough syrup, oily or tacky lotions…you hated them. As much as it dismayed him, why would this be any different?
Because it wasn’t you. And as soon as the girl he had taken back to his dorm reappeared, he knew that she could never be you. Nobody could. He was disgusted with himself for dirtying that memory of you. He had turned something so innocent into something so grossly erotic, and he knew he had crossed a line. How could he ever see you the same way again?
He was also disgusted with how Annabel seemed to not care despite his disillusion. She might have been the only girl he had seen that got off on merely sucking someone off. It was genuinely pathetic. Her head was swiftly yanked up, her lips making a “pop” sound.
“Alright, get out.” “What? But we’ve barely done anything, Fe–” “I don’t fuckin’ care. Piss the fuck off!”
Felix thought he would feel bad about kicking Annabel out, especially after she left in tears with her clothes haphazardly buttoned. But he could genuinely not have cared in the slightest; he was already preoccupied, mind filled with guilt after what he had done to you. But did he feel regret? No. That’s what ate at him the most. Someone like him shouldn’t have gone for someone like you. 
Perhaps it was better to try and forget that he kissed you. Kissing you meant opening the floodgates of his feelings, his debauchery. He had to keep that closed so that you could stay as pure as you always were. His perfect girl.
And he would do anything to keep you that way.
to be continued!
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a/n: dutifully fulfilling this request by my lovely anon. i wanted to delve more into the selfish, savior complex that he was and i DEFINITELY intend to take it deeper for the next part. again, thank you for the ask! co-written by @hellb4ts! leon, thank you for the many wonderful ideas. and you're welcome for introducing you to saltburn &lt;3 inbox is open for any asks or reqs !
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masterlist
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love-jelly · 4 months
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THE VALIDATION.
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sypnosis: precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.
contents: tutor!choso, sub!choso, dom!reader, pet names (choso: cutie, baby, bubs, darling, pretty prince, good boy | reader: mommy), dirty talk, hair pulling (m!receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (does this even count idk), choso is desperate for some puthy (YOUR puthy), overstimulation (m!receiving), praise kink
word count: 1.4k+
a/n: based on this idea by @hotlinemurder ! tysm to maki for blessing my tl with this idea and i hope i did it justice !! hope u enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!
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choso tutors you every wednesday and friday afternoon from twelve pm to two pm every other week in the university library. a timeline you both come up with to nicely accommodate both of your schedules- him with his studies and you with your parties and whatnot. not to say you don’t focus on school, you do, life’s just easier when you can ignore all the pending assignments that are due at 11:59pm and all the teachers that seemingly have it out for you.
but choso is sweet, unnecessarily so even when you try to quietly yawn at his rambling that seems to bounce off the walls of the study room you two rented. even when you start doodling in your notebook, when you’re supposed to be writing down what he’s trying to teach you. life is just more fun when you let go, something you’re sure choso doesn’t know how to do when you don’t show him how to.
choso is a straight-a student and tutor, teaching you topics better than any of your professors on the surface. but when you have him in the palm of your hand, with actions that are only a little suggestive? you’ll surely have him fucking you better than any of them too.
a few taps from the tip of a black pen on your notebook shakes you from your thoughts, choso gazing at you with concern evident in his eyes and a cute frown.
“you do know midterms are two weeks away, right?” the concerned lilt in his tone is cute but not cute enough for you to really care, knowing you would rather be doing anything else than studying calculus four.
you look up and smile apologetically, “sorry, cutie, but partial differentiation of functions is not on my mind right now.”
he blushes softly at the pet name but holds his ground, “but you didn’t come to any lecture last week. these questions are gonna be on the exam, you have to know them.”
you stand up, going behind him to undo the two buns he keeps atop his head, “‘s alright, i have you, don’t i?” the locks of hair unravel like a pretty present as you massage the mop around, evening the spread of his pretty brown hair.
“that’s why i’m trying to teach you right now but you won’t even listen,” he softly whines in slight protest, distracted by the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.
“i have a better idea- don’t you wanna have fun?” you twist yourself onto his lap, thighs fitting atop his as you straddle him. you twist your hand into a fist to garner a hold of his hair, pulling it back to lift his head to expose his pretty wide eyes.
“b-but-” he stammers, moving his head to the side to avoid your eye contact, not sure what excuse to use. you roughly pull his hair again to force him to face you again, a mewl falling from his lips.
you cut him off with a soft voice, “you want me to stop?” you press chaste kisses to his jaw and throat, leaving an especially hard one on his adam’s apple, a soft sigh slipping out from his mouth.
he groans, unable to find an answer in his now-muddled brain. “please-”
precious, sweet choso would never ever deny you in any way, always opting to let you do whatever you wanted for your own entertainment and satisfaction, even if it includes giving you his heart and body.
“please what, baby?” you smile lightly, knowing he would always give into pleasure, give into you. 
“please make me cum,” his usual honeyed, deep voice is exchanged for a separate breathy, higher tone that’s reserved for your ears and your ears alone.
“all you had to say, bubs,” you lightly grind your core to his hardening, twitching cock, that seemingly was begging for some sort of stimulation that could help relieve the hot bubble that was forming in his lower belly.
something between a whine and a groan erupts from choso’s lips as you go in for another kiss, you swallowing up his sounds by connecting your lips.
“we’re in the library, darling. remember to be quiet, ‘kay?” you remind him with a sweet smile as if you weren’t the reason for his loud volume.
he whimpers, “s-sorry, mommy, please-” he chokes out, “c-can i put it in?”
you reach down and pull his cock out of his pants and give it a few jerks. “do you deserve it?”
choso scrunches his face in pleasure, eyes shut and lips wet with both his and your saliva. he manages to open his eyes a bit and breathe out, “yes- yes i do- please?” his brown orbs plead with you for stimulation- for pleasure- for mercy.
“put it in then, show me how desperate you are for me,” his fingers are fumbling around, pushing your skirt up and realizing you’re wearing his favorite lacy violet panties underneath, he groans quietly to himself admiring the wet spot on it for a second. set back on his prior mission, he pushes his cock into your panties, creating a large wet spot as he humps the scratchy material to find pleasure.
“my pretty prince, right? look at you, you just wanna get off, huh? i’ll let you use my pussy- so you better use it well.”
“thank- you, mommy,” he mewls softly before aligning himself with your hole. he quickly shoves it in- catching you off guard, forcing a hiss and moan from your lips that he quickly shuts up with a kiss that you dominate early on.
his hands have you in a vice-like grip that’s sure to leave bruises, holding you a few inches above his own body as his hips uncontrollably rut up into you, balls slapping on your buttcheeks.
“f-fuck- what would your parents say about this, huh? their p-precious little boy so desperate to cum inside of a woman?” you bite his earlobe, moaning directly into it, only serving to make choso’s dick impossibly harder.
“do-don’t-”
“don’t what, bubs? don’t tell your parents? but with how much you c-cum inside me, won’t we have to tell them when we have a b-baby?” you chortle in his ear, his face tinted red from embarrassment but still rutting up into you, desperately searching for release that feels so close with the way you’re clenching around him, still wanting to cum inside you as if it was his lifes goal.
“c-can’t- please- please let me cum inside.” he nearly sobs, his orgasm feeling like it’s approaching.
“don’t stop, don’t stop. you’re doing so so good for me, bubs. keep going- just a bit more, you’re almost there, baby,” you whisper into his ear, keenly aware of the effect your words have on him.
“please, please, please- let me-” 
“you wanna cum? you wanna cum in me? give your parents a grandbaby? you want that huh- you want your parents to know what a dirty whore you are for wet pussy- my wet pussy? come, come inside me.” your filthy words spill out of your mouth and into his flushed ear like whispers of an eternal bliss in hell.
a chain of “yes”s leave his lips in needy murmurs as he nears his climax. his thrusts into you become shorter and sloppier as you hug him closer, quieting your own moans by putting forth effort in marking up his neck.
a long, languid moan is ripped out from choso’s chest with his hips still rutting into you, albeit slower now, steadily fucking his cum into you, although his cock is still semi-hard. “let me- let me make you cum, please?”
you breathily laugh, “keep fucking me, baby, i’m almost there.”
choso continues his actions through strained movements, overstimulating himself, still roughly but quietly moaning through his own pain and pleasure. pulling you closer and staring at your pretty face filled with pleasure, he seems to be mesmerized by every feature on your face that contorts to prove that you were finding as much bliss in this as he is.
“fuck, i’m close, baby. gonna make me cum? make me cum,” choso quickens his pace, grunting in exertion. with a hand slapped over your mouth to hold back your shriek, you cum, spasming around his cock. fucking you through your orgasm, choso whines. he was so focused on making you cum that he didn’t realize he was nearing his second orgasm and with one last thrust into you, he spills a second load into you.
“good boy, choso. you did so well,” your validation makes him feel tingles all around his stomach, butterflies awakening in his stomach.
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a/n: honestly i hate this n i felt like it was WAY too fast paced. BUT i promised a fic so here's one amidst my busy schedule :') life stop fucking me in the ass when :/ thank you for reading !!!
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peachdues · 7 months
Text
HEARTBALM
Kyojuro x Reader (modern AU NSFW)
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A/N: I have COVID brain fog and it shows. You legally can't hold how bad this is against me. But if you somehow like it, likes/reblogs/comments, always appreciated! I promise I'm saving Netherwood for when I've recovered lmao.
This is like a Frankenstein-fulfillment request of several of my 2K event requests. So if you asked for Kyojuro and any of the prompts involving “please let me cum in you” or “woah, woah, I’m here. I’m right here,” congrats! This is for you. I’m sorry it’s ass.
CW: angry/possessive Kyojuro • mentions of toxic/slightly verbally abusive ex boyfriend • ex boyfriend gets decked • explicit sexual content • breeding kink • creampies • car sex • MDNI.
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Everything was too loud and too close. You swore you felt a dozen pairs of eyes burning holes into you with such intensity that you were surprised you were still standing, rather than folding over like a piece of Swiss cheese. The judgment in their gazes felt like a blade against your throat, the cold sting imploring you to fold, to disappear.
There was no air in your lungs, so before you could choke in front of all of your ex-boyfriend’s cronies and friends, you turned and did as cowards did; you ran.
You pushed and shoved your way through the thick crush of bodies that had gathered in this small, off-campus house for the last party of the semester, the last chance for them all to let loose before their lives became a flurry of final exams and papers and discarded coffee cups in dimply lit corners of the campus library. You’d thought it would be your chance to relax, too, after the hair-pulling stress that had been the last month and a half of your life. Stress, that had been expounded upon by the simpering, smarmy asshole you’d once called your boyfriend, who now stared after your retreating form with a vicious grin, apparently pleased to have gotten under his former girlfriend’s skin once more.
There was a buzzing beneath your skin that would not quiet, that seemed to only grow hotter and more incessant as you navigated the maze of bodies and tables set for beer pong in this labyrinth of college-aged debauchery. In the three minutes you’d been darting and ducking around what had to be half of the Ubayashiki University student body, you’d not seen a friendly or familiar face once.
Where was Kyojuro?
You needed to find your sun. You needed your kind, supportive, and steadfast best friend who’d been glued to your side ever since freshman orientation, when you’d shyly approached him and asked if you could eat lunch beside him, feeling too nervous to risk approaching anyone else. He’d laughed, warm and welcoming, as he made room at his table for you, welcoming you with such sincerity and kindness that it was no wonder that you and so many others were drawn to him.
And though Kyojuro treated almost everyone as though they’d been best friends for years, you had been the only one in your orientation group that he’d allowed to truly get to know him. Whether it was during a morning stroll through the campus green as you made your way to your early morning classes, or pressed up against the greasy wall of the grill as you waited for the fry cook to call out your orders, the walls Kyojuro had so carefully crafted to conceal the tempest of passion and fire that raged beneath his dazzling smiles and loud, booming laughs began to peel back, and you saw him for what he truly was.
Truthfully, the more he showed you, the more you wanted; he was a riddle you would never tire of working out, a puzzle you hoped never to solve, even as the pieces fell faster and faster into place.
As your circle of friends grew, your bond only strengthened. It was Kyojuro you called when you found out your beloved childhood dog passed away, hardly able to speak through the tears as they streamed down your face. It was Kyojuro who had all but sprinted from his residence hall to yours, well across campus, with three pints of your favorite ice cream in tow, and who’d let you eat your fill until your stomach was full and the emptiness in your heart had subsided.
And it was you who Kyojuro had called to come join him as he’d smoked a rare cigarette, hands shaking with both his hurt and his anger after a particularly nasty call from his father.
And yet, you’d never dated; you’d never escalated your friendship beyond a few, charged moments that had been marked only by a series of almost and never anything completed.
He wasn’t a fan of your ex-boyfriend; that much he’d made clear. Though Kyojuro had never been one to be unkind towards anyone, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes tightened any time your ex let a door slam in your face or ignored your hand in favor of his phone. Kyojuro hadn’t been shy to let you know that he thought you deserved better – far better.
You’d wanted to ask him whether he thought better was with him, because you knew deep in your heart, if he asked, you would be his; but you never built up the courage to ask, and so you quashed these feelings down deep, hiding them away in a locked chest never to be opened.
Then, you’d finally broken up with your ex only a month prior after discovering he’d cheated on you with no shortage of other students on campus, everyone but you apparently having been in on the cruel joke. Kyojuro had been one of the few steadfastly in your corner, insistent that you’d done nothing wrong, no matter how many times your ex tried to claim you’d pushed him into sleeping with half the student body.
You hadn’t seen your ex, not since you’d coolly told him the pair of you were over, all those weeks ago; not until tonight, when you’d nearly smashed into him while trying to get a drink from the makeshift bar in this strange house you’d never been in.
“Well, well,” your ex-boyfriend had crooned, hand gripping your elbow and keeping you trapped there with him and his smirking pack of hyenas looking at you like you were something to devour. “Did you miss me that much, gorgeous?”
“Get off me,” you’d tried to growl, though the slight wobble in your voice defeated any attempt of yours to be threatening, instead leaving you to come off as a scared little girl, cornered somewhere she shouldn’t have been.
Your ex’s eyes were malicious as they raked over you. “Did you wear that for me, darling?”
He was referring to the red sundress you’d worn, the one you knew made your curves look downright sumptuous, but now you felt like it was a neon sign that read “HARASS ME,” given the hunger in your ex’s eyes that sent your skin crawling. You’d worn it for yourself, to feel confident, only now, you felt like a piece of fruit ripe for plucking, and you’d somehow fallen into the greediest hands on campus.
By divine luck, your ex’s grip on your forearm loosened and you yanked back out of his reach, forgoing the red plastic cup containing whatever grotesque combination of alcohol the party hosts had come up with in favor of putting as much distance as possible between yourself and your ex.
You’d come with Kyojuro and your friend Tengen, but now you couldn’t find either and it only made you feel more lost; more vulnerable. There was a buzzing in your ears that drowned out the pounding base of the music thumping through the blown-out speakers haphazardly set up in the house’s den. Your vision tunneled, and you wondered whether anyone would notice if you dropped to the floor and screamed; if anyone would care.
Stumbling blindly, you smashed into something warm and sold, and it sent you staggering backward.
“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, eyes still wide and unfocused as you moved to push past whatever or whomever you’d smacked into, uncaring at the way your torment was surely etched into your face.
“Woah, hey, hey,” a warm hand closed around your arm as you tried to shove past the body, steadying you, locking you into place. “Y/N, look at me.”
The familiarity of the voice and the touch did not register, and you only continued to shake your head, muttering your apologies.
“Woah, woah, woah. I’m here. I’m right here.” Kyojuro caught you by the arm as you tried once more to shove past him in your haste the leave the party you’d stupidly decided to attend. A hand gripped your chin and firmly but gently turned your head up to meet a pair of ochre eyes, running over you in concern.
“Kyo,” you breathed in relief, feeling yourself melt slightly beneath the steadying warmth of your best friend.
Kyojuro’s mouth was set in a hard line. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
You uttered the name of your insufferable ex and Kyojuro’s eyes darkened. “What did he do?”
His hand gripped yours and you were grateful for the way it helped anchor you and kept you from spinning out under the anxious whirlwind of your thoughts. “Nothing, he’s just being an asshole – please, Kyo, can we leave?”
You felt slightly guilty – after all, it was you who’d suggested you all come to this party in the first place, and now you were the one wanting to leave less than an hour later, but it was too much. Surely, your best friend wouldn’t hold your fickleness so terribly against you, not when it wasn’t your fault in the first place that you’d been sent careening toward an anxiety attack.
Kyojuro didn’t hesitate as he nodded. “Just let me find Tengen and I’ll let him know. I’ll drive you home.”
You smiled faintly in relief, squeezing his hand appreciatively before letting him go. The way Kyojuro’s fingers had lingered against yours had made your heart flutter, chasing away thoughts of him, your ex, and replacing them with a shy curiosity that made you want to know what those fingers would feel like if they touched other parts of you.
Or, it may have been the little alcohol you’d ingested coloring your thoughts; after all, you’d hardly eaten that day in preparation for getting properly soused at the party you now were so desperate to leave.
You retreated into the kitchen, near the open door that led out to a finished, in-ground pool in which several other attendees were already swimming, some without clothes on, too lost in whatever beverage or drug they’d ingested to care. You’d thought yourself safe, amidst a crowd of admittedly drunk party-goers, but it seemed not even the threat of onlookers would keep your abrasive ex at bay.
A hand grazed your rear end, and it sent every hair on your body standing. “Why in such a rush to leave, gorgeous?” A sickeningly familiar voice purred in your ear.
You spat your ex’s name with as much vitriol as you could muster as you turned to face him. “I told you not to fucking touch me.”
Your ex placed a hand mockingly against the wall, next to your head as he leaned in close. “What’s wrong, baby?” His breath was rank with the stench of stale alcohol, and it made your stomach churn. “You used to like being manhandled.”
Your face hardened. “Not by you; not anymore.” You swatted his hand away from where he’d boxed you in, eager to put this party and him behind you, where they belonged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me –”
Your ex’s hand seized around your wrist, its grip tight – too tight. “Just hold on, you haughty little thing,” his tone was kept light but the look on his face was menacing. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
You pulled at the hold he had on you but to no avail. Though you were surrounded by other party attendees, you felt alone, more isolated than ever, as countless eyes pointedly ignored your struggle. You were about to open your mouth, to shout, to curse your ex out, when your ex’s hand suddenly released your arm.
“Take your fucking hands off of her.”
Wide-eyed, you looked to see Kyojuro’s considerable fist wrapped tightly around your ex’s forearm, its size dwarfing the limb beneath to look like a mere twig. Kyojuro’s eyes, normally so inviting and open, had gone hard and black, his jaw stiff with his ire. Though the cold rage contorting your best friend’s face was not directed at you, its sudden manifestation from your otherwise sunny, warm, and gentle friend made you recoil.
“Kyo,” you started, voice low in warning as your eyes darted between the lethal anger simmering on Kyojuro’s face and the infuriatingly smug look on your ex’s, as he smirked at the burly blonde.
“I don’t think this concerns you, Rengoku,” your former boyfriend simpered, a challenge lighting his eyes as he jerked his chin towards you. “This is between me and her, pure and simple.”
Desperately, you glanced around the room hoping to find any of your other friends who could step in, who could intervene before things turned too ugly. Mercifully, you locked eyes with Tengen, who was just on the other side of the pool, grabbing another drink. Eyes wide, you looked back and forth between Kyojuro and your silver-haired friend, hoping he understood your silent plea.
A curt nod from your friend communicated he had, and Tengen quickly began pushing through the throng of people who had begun to coalesce around the edge of the pool as they watched the pair of men engaged in a stare-off beside you.
Kyojuro raised his head slightly, looking down upon the man you used to claim to love in disgust. “Any yet she told you to leave her alone. Are we having listening problems?”
A sardonic smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”
Your ex’s eyes cut back to you, a sneer curling his lip. “Figures,” he spat, his tone full of acid. “Not even a month broken up and you’ve already spread your legs for him like a fuckin’ whore.”
There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding spectators as Kyojuro stepped closer to your seething ex, their noses nearly touching as he held his stare.
“Say it again,” Kyojuro said quietly, all traces of that mocking smirk long-gone, replaced only by a malicious glint in his eyes that promised swift violence that had your hand jumping to grip his arm in warning. “Go on.”
Your weak tugs at Kyojuro’s bicep did little to divert his attention. For one, terrifying moment, you feared that blows were imminent, until a painted hand shoved between the two men, pushing Kyojuro back by his chest.
Tengen.
“As much as I hate to break up the fun, I’m sure you don’t want the entire school witnessing you getting your face pounded in,” The silver-haired senior said coolly to your drunk ex.
Kyojuro allowed himself to be pushed back by his friend, though he refused to break the tense stare he held with the man he’d marked as his opponent. “We can work this out anytime, it doesn’t have to be here,” he taunted with a jeering smirk. “But stay the fuck away from her.”
“Don’t try and fucking tell me how to talk to my ex-girlfriend,” your former lover spat, taking an unsteady step towards the three of you. “Why’re you standing up for the bitch, anyways? The whore has kept stringing you along for god knows how long without putting out –“
His drunken ramblings were cut off by a sickening crunch of bones beneath a fist that seemed to echo through the crowded backyard. Onlookers stared in shock as your ex staggered back, hands flying to staunch the crimson now coursing from his broken nose, curses thick and garbled slipping from his mouth as it filled with blood.
“Shit.” Tengen breathed, his eyes wide.
A dozen pair of eyes turned towards you and your best friend, round with shock as an uncomfortable buzz settled into the thick, night air. Kyojuro was panting, the skin of his knuckles stained with blood from his split skin and that of your ex’s as he stared at your flame-haired friend.
“I warned you,” Kyojuro’s tone was almost jovial but its cheerfulness was undercut by his glower. “Watch your fucking language when speaking about a lady.”
Your hand clenched at his bicep once more. “Kyojuro, let’s go.”
Your tone snapped him out of whatever cold rage in which he’d been simmering and his amber eyes lifted to meet yours. You did not wait for him to follow as you turned sharply on your heel and stormed out of the house, eyes resolutely focused on the door in order to avoid acknowledging the way dozens of pairs of eyes followed your every step.
---
Your feet hit the pavement of the street outside, the night air cool on your heated skin. You heard the steady beat of your friend’s footsteps behind you, and you whipped around, eyes blazing, and blood boiling.
“What the fuck was that?” You hissed once the two of you were far enough away from the party and any nosy on-lookers as you stalked toward Kyojuro’s car. “Were you trying to get yourself arrested?”
Kyojuro did not answer, the scowl on his face turning into something menacing beneath the flickering lamps lining the crowded street.
“I was handling it just fine, you know, but you had to step in and turn it into a fucking pissing contest –”
“Stop talking, Y/N.” Kyojuro finally snapped, his voice a low growl.
You only seethed. “Who the fuck do you think you are –?”
Your fiery companion only placed a hand firmly at the small of your back and pushed you forward, your feet nearly stumbling to keep yourself upright as he guided you towards your car.
“Kyojuro –” you began, testily.
“Shut up, Y/N.” He cut you off severely. “Just – be quiet and get in the fucking car.”
Something about his tone coupled with the stormy look on his face quieted any further protest you may have had, and you allowed him to forcefully guide you to his car. Kyojuro wrenched the door open and pushed you down into the passenger seat, even taking the time to fasten your seatbelt for you, the brush of his hand against your waist searing into you in a way that made you squirm.
As embarrassing as you found it, you could not deny that your friend’s protectiveness over you stoked something hot and molten in your gut; made your thighs rub together, as your stomach fluttered.
Kyojuro was silent as he drove, the air between you cackling with electricity.
“Have you calmed down?” You asked sarcastically after several minutes of tense silence, unable to stomach the quiet any longer.
Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I can’t believe you dated something like that,” he ground out, eyes fixed hard on the road ahead of him. “The way he spoke to you just now – that doesn’t come out of nowhere.”
You fidgeted in your seat, fingers playing with the band of the seatbelt as the weight of Kyojuro’s accusation settled.
“That wasn’t the first time, was it?”
Your shoulders curled inward, and you suddenly felt like a cornered animal; you resented him for it. “What does it matter, now? We’re done. It’s over, and I’m not going back.”
Kyojuro pulled sharply off an exit, following a bumpy road to a quiet, darkened overlook that abutted a state park. He stopped the car, slamming it into park as his hands remained tightly curled around the steering wheel, his breath hard and fast in his nose.
“Why did you date him?” His tone was almost accusatory. “He was an asshole from the start, and yet you dated him for almost a year.”
You bit your lip and Kyojuro’s eyes followed the movement closely. “Because I wasn’t sure of another’s feelings.”
Kyojuro exhaled sharply, turning his body more towards you, his eyes locked onto you with searing intensity. “And this other – did you ever confess your true feelings?”
You hesitated for only a moment, shaking your head slightly. You chanced lifting your gaze up to meet his, gulping slightly at the heat which you found there.
There was a beat, and then the two of you surged towards one another over the center console of his car, drawn to one another like a pair of magnets. Your mouths met in a fiery clash of lips and teeth, Kyojuro’s tongue sliding seamlessly into your mouth to dance with yours. His hand rose to tangle in your hare, ensnaring you against him and his fervid touch and desperate lips.
He moaned your name against feverish kisses, his lips only breaking from yours to dance across your jaw, your neck, any part of you he could reach.
He wasn’t close enough; you tugged at the collar of his button down, trying to pull him atop you, to feel if his chiseled body felt as rock-solid as you’d always imagined.
“You’re impatient,” he chuckled against your throat as he sucked his mark into your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”
Your fingers, buried deep in his flame-colored hair, tugged, insistent. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”
Warm hands gripped your waist and hauled you up out of your seat. Somehow, you were folded in just the right position to be passed over the console of his car, and Kyojuro swiftly tossed you into the back seat of his car. As you panted for breath, the skirt of your sundress rising high up your thighs, Kyojuro clambered over his own seat to join you, pinning you half between the backseat and the car door.
Before he reconnected your lips, Kyojuro’s hands found his way under you once more, deftly maneuvering you until it was he who sat against the backseat of his car, and you were straddled in his lap, chest heaving and cheeks pink.
“Was this your goal?” You teased, and to your delight, you felt something hard begin to press into your groin as your breath mixed with his, a slight fog beginning to condense on the windows. “To have me at your mercy?”
Kyojuro leaned up slightly, brushing his lips against the fluttering pulse point in your neck, smirking against your skin. “If you’re asking whether I took you out of the party with this in mind, then no,”
His hands smoothed up and down your sides before sliding behind you to squeeze your ass, rubbing firmly as he rolled his hips up into yours.
“But if you’re asking if I’ve planned to have you this way at all… then I would say,” he cut himself off as he kissed his way back to your lips, holding back the tantalizing feel of his mouth against yours for a fraction of a second. “That has always been my goal, beautiful. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
He kissed you softly then, teeth lightly nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away once more to look over you.
“But I want far more from you, if you’re willing to give it.”
Your heart fluttered in your throat as your legs clenched. You knew there were several meanings to his words — both in terms of the physical and with regard to your long-term relationship.
You settled on his lap, arms looping around his neck as your breath mixed with his, anticipation fluttering in your stomach.
“Kiss me, Kyo.” You whispered, your eyes lowering to his lips.
He regarded you with a half-lidded, lust-filled expression of his own. “Where?”
Your fingers wound in his hair, pulling softly in a way that made him moan. “Everywhere.”
Sturdy yet nimble fingers worked their way up to the buttons on the bodice of your sundress, undoing them with a swiftness you’d not realized he possessed.
The last button undone, Kyojuro brought his hands to the loosened folds of your sundress and pushed them aside, warm hands grazing the sensitive skin beneath.
“Christ, woman,” he groaned as your bare breasts were revealed to him. “You’re killing me.”
You giggled, inwardly glad you’d forsaken wearing a bra beneath the dress, though you certainly hadn’t intended to wind up like this — perched in your best friend’s lap, his growing bulge digging into the sensitive spot between your legs as he leaned in to take one pert nipple into his hot mouth, his hand covering the other breast and rolling it beneath his fingers.
Not a single part of you could bring yourself to regret the decision, however, not as Kyojuro’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud, your head falling back as you pressed your chest against his face, begging him for more.
Kyojuro moaned against your breast, his hand steadily working the other as he nipped and sucked at you, covering your chest in splotches of purple and red, your skin bearing the mark of his teeth as he claimed you.
You ground down against the rigid bulge nestled between your thighs, breath hitching as he pressed against that sensitive spot between your legs, causing a rush of your fluid to surge forth and coat the flimsy lace of your thong.
If you weren’t careful, you’d risk leaving evidence of your desire smeared right on the front seam of his pants. But if Kyojuro cared, he certainly didn’t show it as his free arm looped around your waist to push you down, forcing your groin to mash tightly against his.
Your hands moved desperately down Kyojuro’s front as his mouth continued to work your breasts, until they reached the top of his pants. You fumbled with his belt, determined to loosen it and free the hardened bulge straining against the crotch of his pants.
“You’re so,” Kyojuro panted, his hips twitching up against your touch. “Eager, my flame.”
Your ears perked at the affectionate nickname. “Your flame?” Your lips swept to the side to suck at the side of his neck.
Kyojuro’s head tilted to the side, allowing you more access as he pressed you harder into his face. “Yes, my flame,” he nipped lightly at your pert nipple, just as his fingers slid between your thighs to dance along the sensitive skin between your leg and hip. “Because you make me burn.”
His fingers grazed the front of your thong and Kyojuro groaned at the wetness he felt seeping through the thin lace.You nearly hissed at the contact, grinding yourself against his fingers, beseeching your best friend to give you more, to touch you where you needed him most.
“Kyo,” you whined, head falling back.
“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro slid two fingers beneath the crotch of your underwear, dragging them right up your drenched slit. “You’re wet — so fucking wet.”
“I just want to slide right in,” your friend teased, and his fingers easily breached your entrance, working deep into your opening as you mewled for him. “I bet you could take me just like this.” 
His thumb brushed against your clit as his index and middle finger worked your core, making you stiffen stop him as your breath labored. Kyojuro swore again as he curled his fingers upward, feeling the way your velvet walls clenched around him.
“K-Kyo!” You gasped. “I can’t wait — I need you. Need you now.”
“Then I guess we agree,” Kyojuro growled against your lips as he shifted you beneath him. “Because I can’t wait to be inside you, either.”
Kyojuro spread you out beneath him, against the worn cloth of his backseat. He fumbled above you, trying to contort his large body in the small, cramped space of the back of his car.
His hands moved to loosen his belt and shove the tops of his pants and briefs down his hips, just far enough to let his leaking, stiffened cock spring forth, its tip smacking against his belly. Your mouth watered at the sight, at the thickness of his length, far more than you’d ever encountered before.
Kyojuro smirked at the awe on your face. “Trust I know how to use it, too.”
You flushed dark at the boldness with which he spoke, though your voice somehow remained steady. “Then prove it.”
Kyojuro covered you with a low growl, his hands flipping the skirt of your dress out of the way as his fingers slid your thong down your legs, chucking it to the side. He tugged you forward over the seat, a buckle of a seatbelt digging somewhat uncomfortably into your back, though that discomfort was quickly chased away as Kyojuro lined himself up with your entrance and pulled you sharply down, impaling you on his rigid length.
Your scream choked off in your throat as he shifted to press one leg up against the back rest of the seat and used his hands to hold your other open, keeping you spread wide for him. His thrusts were wild and frenzied, though his motions were somewhat limited by the spatial constraints of the backseat of his car. You didn’t care, however; not as his cock pistoned into you so deeply, you swore you saw stars; not as his coarse base ground against your sensitive clit, Kyojuro’s name falling in a repeated whine from your lips.
Kyojuro tried to brace his feet against the rear door for leverage for his thrusts, but each haphazard movement only caused him to grow more frustrated.
He tried to distract himself by pressing his lips bruisingly against yours, but it was not enough. Your flame-haired friend slammed his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.
“Fuck this,” he growled against your lips before he pulled out of you and away. You whined at the loss of his body heat, so warm and all-consuming. The ache between your legs had become nearly maddening as the empty walls of your core now clenched around nothing.
Even in the dark, Kyojuro’s eyes glowed, like pools of molten ore threatening to burn you with their heat as he reached blindly behind him and jerked on the handle of the car door, using his foot to kick it open.
He slid out, his stiffened cock still standing proudly above the loosened waistband of his pants as he rose to his full height. Reaching back into the car, Kyojuro wrapped his strong, warm hands around your knees and tugged you across the backseat toward him until your ass was on the edge of the seat, your legs dangling outside the door, toes just grazing the gravel below.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Kyojuro’s voice was harsh yet commanding, and your compliance was automatic. Your legs instantly wound around his waist, locking at the ankles against his lower back.
His hands then dipped below where you still lay against the worn seat of his car, splaying across your back. His grip secure, Kyojuro hauled you up and out of the back seat, his arms readjusting his hold as his hands came to rest under the skirt of your sundress, fingers kneading the fleshy curve of your ass.
You decided you’d gone far too long without his lips against yours, and so with a needy moan, you slanted her mouth back over his, sighing happily into him as his lips parted to allow your tongue to sweep in and glide alongside his.
So intoxicated were you by his kiss that you did not realize Kyojuro had walked you around to the front of his car, his headlights still beaming bright through the dark of the night air. A startled gasp broke your kiss at the warm press of metal against your back as Kyojuro laid you over the front hood of his car. Your cry of surprise did not seem to faze him, for Kyojuro only moved his lips to sweep across your neck with needy, open-mouthed kisses.
“Much better,” he grunted against your skin, his tongue flicking out against the hollow of your throat.
“K-Kyo!” You hissed, though you found it difficult to actually feel irritated toward the fiery blonde pressing you against the hood of his car – especially given the way his hips ground and bucked against yours. “We’re in the open!”
Kyojuro’s mouth pulled off your neck with a groan as he lifted his head to glare down at you as you panted and blushed beneath him. A hand reached between your bodies to grip the base of his cock, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull as you felt Kyojuro begin to drag the leaking head of his length up and down your slick folds, teasing.
“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it the way I want,” he warned, his voice roughened by raw desire. “I’m not letting myself be held back by a damn car seat.”
Any protestation or witty response you could have lobbed back at him died on your lips as Kyojuro pressed the tip of his cock firmly against your clit. Your head fell back against the hood of the car with a cry, your hips bucking up against his, begging him to take you and end the torment between your legs.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you that isn’t my name or how good my cock feels, got it?” Kyojuro bent low and took your nipple between his teeth, sucking at it harshly. “Answer me.”
A thumb and a forefinger replaced the head of Kyojuro’s erect length at your clit and squeezed once, in warning.
“Yes!” You yelped, your thighs tightening around his hips in a desperate but futile attempt to clench shut. “I understand – Kyo, please –”
Your begging was cut off with a scream as Kyojuro sheathed himself back into your dripping heat in a single, fluid stroke. Before you could catch your breath, Kyojuro began circling his hips, rolling them heavily against yours.
“That’s it, baby, just feel me,” He murmured, teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear.  “God, you feel like fucking heaven.”
“Kyojuro,” you moaned, your eyes rolling heavily back into your skull. “Oh god, more –”
Kyojuro’s answering groans were loud and unrestrained, tempered only by the squeak of his car hood as he brought one knee up to rest upon it, bearing more of his weight down upon you as his thrusts grew harder and harder.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight. “Fuck, I can’t get enough, I need more –”
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force as he tiled them further, tugging you flush against his groin with your backside nearly suspended above the car hood. Your moans melted into loud, high-pitched cries as you thrashed against the front of the car, the heels of your feet digging deeper into the steel of Kyojuro’s backside to press him closer, deeper into your velvet heat.
The new angle allowed Kyojuro’s cock to reach parts of you you hadn’t known could be explored, stretching you in ways you hadn’t realized could be stretched. How you’d managed to go so long without knowing the euphoric bliss that was Kyojuro’s body was a mystery you weren’t sure even the most revered philosopher could solve. All you knew, however, as the thick tip of Kyojuro’s cock pressed against something so deep within you it made your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken until drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, was that you could never have anyone else. No one would ever be capable of fucking you the way Kyojuro was right then, and you didn’t think you’d even allow them to try.
Despite your brain having been largely reduced to a puddle of gray matter in your skull with every lurid drag and push of Kyojuro’s cock into your soaked cunt, you forced your mouth to form a single, desperate command.
“More,” you begged, the word slurring off your tongue, breaking up the series of nonsensical babbles that had poured from your mouth the minute Kyojuro decided to mold your insides to the shape of him. “More.”  
“Jesus fuck,” Kyojuro’s jaw was clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, sweat running down his neck and sliding between the mass of his pectorals.
Broad hands slid to the back of your thighs and pushed them up and back until your knees kissed the hood of his car. The new angle allowed Kyojuro to pound even deeper into you, though it simultaneously rendered you utterly helpless to accept the battering of his cock as it rammed so far into you, you swore he would bruise your organs before the night was over.
The new position meant that Kyojuro’s base was pressed flush against your clit, the coarse hair of his groin circling against your sensitive nub as your own slick gathered, making a mess between where the two of you were joined. The stimulation made your toes curl, even as your feet flopped helplessly against Kyojuro’s broad back.
Whatever coil you felt winding tight in your gut, Kyojuro felt gathering as well, given the whimpers and moans that lilted from his lips in strings, his lips working a frenzy against whatever part of you he could reach.
“P-please, Y/N,” his voice broke through the pleasured haze in which you’d found yourself floating as you plummeted back down to earth; to him. “Please let me cum in you. Please.”
“God fucking – please,” Kyojuro groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. “I need to fill you. I need it, I need it.”
You didn’t doubt the sincerity of his need; the dull thwap of Kyojuro’s heavy balls against the underside of your ass made it clear your friend was pent up, and desperate to find his release. And that release wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable if he was forced to waste it over your stomach or breasts as it would be if you allowed him to fill you to your brim.
The answer was easy. “Y-yes,” you found your voice after a moment, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Give it to me, Kyo, please!”
Kyojuro’s lascivious groans deepened, the sounds falling from his mouth more akin to shouts of pleasure. His pace quickened though his rhythm grew sloppier. Kyojuro brought the leg still anchored to the ground up onto the hood of the car and positioned himself in a kneel, spreading his thighs wide and allowing his hips to weigh down heavily against yours as he pinned you in place, rolling into your heat.
“Fill me up, make me yours!” You were babbling now, half-delirious with pleasure and over-stimulation as you felt your orgasm build, the tight coiling in your belly promising to unleash the most powerful climax you’d ever had. “N-no one else has – no one else has – ngh – finished inside!”
A warm hand slid up to your throat and squeezed lightly as Kyojuro’s hips snapped against yours, his groans quieting to mere vibrations in his chest. “Not even – fuck – him?”
You didn’t need to ask him to clarify. “Never!” You gasped, limbs turning to liquid against the light pressure he applied against the sides of your throat. “Only yours – only yours to f-fill!”
Your affirmation made Kyojuro shudder violently above you, and before you knew it, Kyojuro was spilling forth within your core, giving you every drop of his hot seed as his hips rolled heavily into yours.
A broad hand slid down from your throat to rest against the bottom of your stomach and pressed down.
“Take it,” Kyojuro somehow had the presence of mind to speak, even deep in the throes of his climax. “F-feel how much I’m filling you up – oh fuck.”
You could. The weight of his hand against your lower belly pressed your front wall against the spurting tip of his cock as he unloaded deep within your core. And it was precisely because of the way you could feel him painting the inside of your walls that you felt yourself tip over your edge, that coil in your belly not merely unwinding, but breaking wide open.
With a sharp cry, you came, a rush of your sticky pleasure spurting forth from you and soaking Kyojuro’s lower abdomen and groin as he continued to pump into you, every twist and churn of his base against your clit only prolonging the sweet, torturous pleasure you felt as you screamed for him.
Kyojuro’s high finally ceased, as did yours, but that did not stop your flame-haired friend from continuing to pump into you, as though chasing yet another dizzying high.
“Kyo,” your cry was shrill was your nails sunk into the ropey muscle of your best friend’s back, your teeth gritting against the flicker of overstimulation flaring to life as Kyojuro’s rough base continued to grind right against your clit.
“I’m sorry, my flame,” and to your shock, you noted the desperate whine in his tone. “I can’t stop, I need more – c-can’t stop –”
You felt his cum squelching over where you remained connected, its sticky warmth dribbling down your inner thighs as Kyojuro continued to plunge his still-erect length in and out of your full cunt.
“I want to get you pregnant,” Kyojuro confessed, his eyes burning as they flicked between where he appeared and disappeared inside you, to the way your tits bounced with each of his punishing thrusts, and back to your face. “I’ve been dreaming about it since I met you.”
“C-can’t tell you h-how many times I’ve imagined filling you with my seed until – fuck – you’re carrying my child.”
Some small, rational part of your brain genuinely did not know whether he was serious, and an even smaller part was baffled that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care one way or the other. The only reaction you gave him, instead, was a struggle of your legs against his grasp until he allowed you to wrap them around his hips to hold him close as he chased his second release of the night.
“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll pull out,” Kyojuro grunted, though, with the way he continued to thrust even harder into you, you doubted his ability to do so. “Just say the word.”
Admittedly, it was probably too late to worry about that, given that you could still feel the traces of his cum trickling out of you as he continued to ram his length into your spent core. But even if that ship hadn’t yet sailed, you knew you could not let him pull out; could never, not when he made you feel this good.
“Don’t you dare pull – ah – pull out,” you managed, legs tightening around his hips to keep him pinned against you. “I want it – I need it, Kyojuro. Give it to me.”
Your words were enough. With a strangled shout, Kyojuro came once more, his excess cum leaking out of your stuffed cunt, its hot stickiness trickling between your cheeks and pooling on the car hood beneath you, staining faded red with milky white. The cant of Kyojuro’s hips still did not cease as he continued fucking his seed right back into you, and you could do nothing but spread your thighs wider and accept it, mewling softly with your lips against his collarbone.
Kyojuro remained tense above you for several more seconds before he relaxed, his weight pressing you fully against the car hood as he collapsed against you. You both remained quiet for a moment, working to catch your breath.
“Are you alright?” your friend breathed after a moment, nuzzling your sweat-slickened neck affectionately.
You nodded, unable to stop the wide grin which formed on your face. “One would think you’d been waiting a long time to do that, Kyojuro,” you teased, arching your neck to expose more of your throat as his lips traced delicately across it.
“And if I have?” He murmured, pausing to suck lightly on the sensitive skin below your ear. “What would you say then?”
You threaded your fingers through unruly, golden hair and tugged lightly, pulling his face from the dip in your neck so that he would meet your eyes.
“I would say,” you began seriously, suppressing a giggle at the way Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed. “That you should probably take me home, then, because I’m not nearly done with you.”
Your fiery friend answered with a growl, low and deep in his chest as he rolled his hips into yours once more, his cock twitching back to life.
Instead of pressing you back against his car, Kyojuro instead flipped you to your stomach, your breasts smushing against the windshield of his car, the sweat clinging to your skin certain to leave behind a lewd outline of your body against the glass.
“You should probably buckle up then, my flame,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Because I’m afraid I can’t wait until I get you into my bed to have you yet again.”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
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The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 5 months
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Obey Me! Younger Brothers react to: Mc telling them "You look so handsome when you lie to me."
Other parts can be found here: Older Brothers Reaction
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Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡
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Satan's reaction
Satan and Mc were hanging out in HoL's library, Satan was currently engulfed in a book, Mc had been reading, but a particular thought had caused them to stop reading. Mc couldn't stop thinking about the thought, they stare at Satan questioning if they should act on the thought or not. See Mc usually is one step behind Satan when it comes to flirting. Satan is a romantic he's constantly flustering Mc, Mc would like to make Satan flustered at least once! The countless times he's left Mc blushing and stuttering for some come back, its time for Mc's revenge!
Mc gives themself a pep talk and then clears their throat. 'Satan can I ask you a question?' Satan's eyes dart up from the book he'd been reading, as Satan makes eye contact with Mc, Mc can see his emerald eyes glisten under the library lights. Satan's practically beaming with curiosity, but he holds his composure well. Sending Mc a calm comforting smile before responding to their question- "By all means ask away, you've piqued my interest after all." Satan's calm smile is now more of a teasing intrigued grin, he unintentionally scooted to the edge of the seat he's sitting in. Almost looking like a teen girl about to hear about gossip. 'Would you love me more if I was a cat?' Mc knew the answer, of course Satan would, but Mc also knew Satan wouldn't say that to them, he wouldnt want to hurt their feelings. Satan teasing grin flaters and he is silent for a couple of minutes, Mc can practically hear the cogs in his brain turning as he tries to think of a response. "....Of course not.." Satan finally answers, though he sounds like he's lying or unsure. Mc can't help but smile at his answer, Mc's plan was working just as they thought it would.
'You look so handsome when you lie to me Satan.' Mc says with a grin. Satan goes to argue, he wasnt completely lying Mc wouldn't be Mc if they were a cat, but he quickly realized Mc called him handsome. Satan blushes and does his little ´how dare you fluster me` scoff, Mc can tell he is thinking hard of some response. Satan sits there mouth formed in a line as his brain cogs start turning into overdrive. How is Satan supposed to come up with a response to that? The smoothness of Mc's action makes Satan realize they've been planning this for weeks! They thought ahead and knew his answer before he even answered. Satan blushes more as he realizes hes been out done for the day, so he stands up and mutters a quick "..that was a good one..but I'll have a better one next time.." Before he rushes out of the library headed to his room to plot his revenge. Satan enjoyed hearing Mc call him handsome but he enjoys the fun flirting competition the two have going on more.
Asmodeus's Reaction:
Mc and Asmo we're hanging out and doing random things together like always. Asmo decided to snap a few pictures of the two together to put on his Devilgram. Just as anyone does when posting pictures the two go through the pictures taken together to find ones they both can agree to post. The pictures all look great, Mc and Asmo both are looking fantastic, but everyone can be picky sometimes when it comes to what kind of photos of themselves they want online. Asmo has a reputation to uphold as the Devildom's most beautiful demon, and Mc is a human..so human world standards can be life changing.
Asmo and Mc usually can choose a photo or a few photos just fine, but occasionally a small argument breaks out. As they go through the photos Asmo chooses his favorite, but it happens to be a photo that Mc doesn't like the way they look in. Asmo tries to make Mc feel better, reassuring them that they look fine, "..come on hon, you look absolutely stunning." Despite Asmo's best attempt, his compliments do not change Mc's mind, they are dead set on the photo he chose not being the one posted. Asmo being Asmo though he doesn't listen, he looks the best in that photo so he has to post it! Asmo "secretly" begins to edit the photo and prepare it to post on his Devilgram. Mc takes one glance at Asmo trying to hide his D.D.D and instantly knows he's trying to post the photo they said they didn't want posted. Mc sighs and asks, "Asmo are you posting that photo?" Even though they already know the answer. Asmo glances up from his D.D.D and gives Mc an innocent smile. "..I'm not posting any yet..I'm just scrolling on Devilgram." Asmo lies through his teeth, feigning innocence.
Mc shakes their head with a smile and says, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Asmo.' Asmo's fake innocent smile falters and he blushes a little. Asmo instantly walks over to Mc to give them a hug as he says, "oh I'm sorry hon, but I look the best in that photo! You look amazing too! It's the perfect photo to captivate how amazing we look together!" Asmo says clearly still wanting to post the photo. Mc just sighs and says something like "you look handsome in any photo', unlike Asmo, Mc's compliments seem to do the trick as Asmo slowly begins to choose a different photo, one that Mc is okay with him posting to his Devilgram. It becomes a trick that Mc can use often if they have a photo they don't want him posting, just compliment him until he changes his mind. Bonus points if Mc specifically points out how good he looks in the photo they want posted.
Beelzebub's Reaction:
Mc had been saving a snack for a few days, they even hid it really well in the fridge! They are in their room doing R.A.D homework when they suddenly start feeling hungry, so they go to the kitchen to get their snack. When they get to the kitchen they aren't exactly surprised to find Beel in the kitchen already. Beel has his face stuffed with food as usual but he doesn't greet Mc like he usually would, instead he quickly turns away from Mc and even stuffs the wrapper of whatever he's eating into his mouth, proceeding to eat it as well. He cannonly eats literal plates so don't worry bout him. Mc was able to catch a small glimpse of the wrapper before Beel stuffed it into his mouth, and Mc is almost positive it's the wrapper to the snack they had been saving.
They couldn't really be mad at Beel, he gets hungry man, but they still pretend to be upset. They cross their arms as they stare at Beel suspiciously, '..Beel what're you eating.?' Mc asks, even though they pretty much already know. Beel's face flushes red out of embarrassment and he continues to be turned away from Mc, "...nothing.." Beel says with a mouth full of food, the poor mans is just making his case worse. Mc has to fight off a smile, still trying to pretend to be upset, the give him an even more suspicious and fake stern look, '..you wouldn't happen to be eating my snack would you?' Mc asks knowingly, basically resisting the urge to bust out laughing, they couldn't though, they had to execute their plan. Beel swallows before glancing Mc's way, the crumbs of Mc's snack is still on his face, making it obvious that he's the culprit. "...no...it was something else.." Beel mutters quietly, not even making eye contact anymore, probably the worst liar out of all the brothers.
Mc smiles at him knowingly while saying, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Beel.' Beel's face immediately flushed a dark shade of red, if he still had the food in his mouth he probably would have choked in Surprise, he enjoys mc calling him handsome, but unlike his brothers he mainly hears Mc calling him out on lying. "...I'm sorry Mc..it just looked so good..I'll buy you a new one.." Beel says apologetically, looking at the ground like a puppy who got caught in the trash by its owner. Mc just laughs and shakes their head while saying, 'its okay Beel I'm just teasing, how about we both go out and get a new one together?' Beel seems to like that suggestion as he smiles widely and mutters something about "food is always better when eating with you, Mc." So, the two head out to get a snack, they end up with lots of snacks because Beel got hungry on the walk to the store, but both Mc and Beel had a good time together.
Belphegor's Reaction:
A new movie has come out in the Devildom, Mc is super excited to watch it, and Mc specifically said they are excited to watch it with Belphie. Belphie isn't particularly fond of the type of movie it is, but he wants to make Mc happy and sees it as an opportunity to rest his head in Mc's lap and nap. The two get set up in Mc's room to watch the movie together, they have snack, blankets, all the necessities for a good movie night together. Belphie even promised Mc that he would stay up and watch the entire movie with Mc. The movie starts and Belphie stays awake for awhile, barely even watching the movie, just being up soc wouldn't be upset. However as the movie gets to the half way mark it becomes increasingly hard for the Avatar of Sloth to stay awake. The movie was honestly a little boring and Mc's lap was just so comfortable! Belphie tries his hardest to stay up, he promised Mc after all, but as the movie continues to drone on he decides it might not be that bad to just rest his eyes a little. Belphie figures Mc will be paying too much attention and won't even notice so he could nap for a few minutes and then get back up without Mc even knowing.
He was wrong though, as soon as he closes his eyes Mc notices. 'I thought you were going to stay up and watch the whole movie with me?' Mc asks confusedly, Belphie had promised and all. Belphie gives a half-assed response, not even opening his eyes, "I am staying up, I'm just resting my eyes not sleeping" Belphie mumbles, you can hear the tiredness in his voice. Mc sighs and allows him to lay there for a bit "resting his eyes" while they continue watching the movie. After a few minutes Mc glances back down at Belphie resting in their lap, Mc figures Belphie is probably asleep so they quietly ask, 'are you sleeping yet?' Belphie grumbles in response, pushing closer to Mc's body and not opening his eyes, "no. I'm not even close to falling asleep" Belphie says, though he's completely lying, you can tell by the sound of his voice that he's about to fall asleep at any second.
Mc laughs softly at the sloth demon's determination to pretend to not be falling asleep, Mc smiles down at the half asleep demon and says, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Belphie' Belphie was about to fall asleep until he heard Mc's statement, he shoots up staring at them with hazy tired but wide eyes, his face instantly starts to heat up due to being flustered by Mc's statement. Belphie embarrassed and flustered grumbles in response, "I wasn't lying. I wasn't even going to fall asleep." Belphie was still lying, he didn't want to admit he was sleeping and be teased or flustered by Mc even more. Belphie changes his position instead of laying on Mc's lap he sits next to him and rests his head on their shoulder, but for the rest of the movie he is up and actually watching the movie. Belphie would never admit it to Mc but that was one of the first times something's ever woken him up that fast and made him feel that energetic, he was able to stay up for awhile afterwards in all honesty. So even though Belphie won't tell Mc he likes hearing them call him handsome, Mc should definitely do it again.
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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry this part took so long to post, I had writers block for Asmo's part. Anyways more contents coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby!
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⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡
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oozedninjas · 6 months
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LIBRARY
Master post of all my writings. TW: dark content + NSFW I MDNI I all my readers are female by default unless specified otherwise.
All characters are depicted mid-twenties and older. Any bitching about this matter equals instant block ♡
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Turtle’s favorite sex positions (general verses)
Turtles when they're mad at you! (general verses)
✪ Short thirsts and HC
Grown-ups HC (2007)
Lovely things they do for you (2007)
Realizing they are in love (Bayverse)
Red flags! toxic hc (general verses)
Their significant other is a nightwatcher fan! (2007) I p2
Biggest insecurities are when it comes to dating (Bayverse)
Their O faces I NSFW I Bayverse
Marking HC I NSFW (general)
Cock warming HC I NSFW (2007)
How to blow Donnie, a guide! I NSFW (2003)
Soft toy play | NSFW (2007) Leo centered
Raph has a wet dream about you | NSFW (general verses)
✪ Seasonal Specials
You know, hot Valentine, kinktober, no-nut-November, creampie December...
✪ Dark Library
Compilation of dark fics, requested, or otherwise!
✪ General suggestive and smut stuff
Ghost Bridal (2007)
18+ I NSFW I Mating cycles I 10 years after the 2007 movie I You lend a hand with his mating season
Yum, baby yum (general verses)
18+ I Making out Headcanons that are not precisely written in hc format I suggestive I General verses
Ninja's Heartstrings (2007)
18+ I The first part of a trio smut I suggestive? I You're in love with Leo and Raph but refuse to choose just one.
Snap call (2007)
18+ | You send him nudes while he is on patrol, and Raph isn't quite happy about it. | Nightwatcher Raphael x fem reader
I wanted you to be my first (general verses)
18+ | Short thirst of their first time with f!reader
What do they love in bed? (2007)
18+ | General preferences
First time churring (2012)
18+ | Title is pretty self-explanatory
✪ Fluff??? Here???
Raph is mustering the courage to confess his feelings, but nothing goes as he plans after your birthday party.
Would they love you if you were a worm?
✪ Pieces of art from my writings:
Red Night
Get a room! (incorrect quote)
_____
Updated: 02/May/2024 | All content published here belongs to oozedninjas™ Do not repost my work.
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ghostlyfleur · 7 months
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𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬
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eddie munson x new girl
contents: new girl referred to as angel, lovesick!eddie, strangers to friends to lovers, hellfire club, dustin henderson cameo, mutual pining, inexperienced!reader, shy!reader, maybe fairy!reader but i’m not sure yet.
word count: ~1k
summary: eddie lets his love consume him, and he’s okay with it.
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eddie munson is down bad. in love. completely enamored. shot by cupid. and she’s beautiful. the fairest maiden in all the land.
she’s all flowery dresses, flowy skirts, cozy sweaters, butterfly clips in her hair, fairy wing eyeliner design and shimmery glitter on her eyelids, sparkly pink lipgloss, highlighter on her cheekbones— the prettiest angel he’s ever seen. absolutely ethereal. the thing is, she’s terribly clueless. oblivious, even. her and eddie have built a lovely friendship over the last few months, ever since he met her when he picked dustin up from the library. that’s when it happened. that’s when he got hit. an arrow straight through his heart.
his angel — because she must be an angel, with the way the sun followed her around and made her shimmer — was aiding dustin with his search, trying to find books on supernatural lore that he could take inspiration from for the campaign he was putting together. it was dustin’s first campaign in his hellfire club career, and he was taking it very seriously to eddie’s amazement and amusement. but whatever thoughts about dungeons and dragons that were swirling around his head cleared completely at the sight of her; in her white sandals, knee-length white silky skirt, and alice in wonderland graphic tank top she was a sight to behold. a mirage. a dream. sunny disposition, bright smile, fidgety hands, and the most enchanting voice— a siren call, really. and eddie was hooked. it didn’t help that dustin talked his ear off about the nice girl that was quick to provide him with an immense list of folklore and magic lore books that could help him, about fairytales and whimsical creatures.
“she talked about fairies as if she were one, dude, it was sick!” dustin gushed.
eddie noticed the kid kept going back to the same library, kept entering his van afterwards with a list of books and another cute tale revolving around the pretty angel girl of eddie’s dreams. until one day dustin looked all nervous and coy and a little scared, and yeah, usually eddie loved to invoke that same reaction from him, but this time he didn’t know the reason behind it, behind the kid’s hesitant gaze. and truly it couldn’t have been a better reason. dustin wanted the mystery angel to be able to attend hellfire, to watch his campaign.
“‘s the least i can do, man! she helped me with a lot of it and she was like- super interested in my shirt and stuff, please?” eddie’s quick reply, the resounding ‘yes’ he couldn’t hold back, caught dustin by surprise but he didn’t question it. don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?
angel showed up in a long skirt with a flower pattern, converse shoes, and a black queen shirt tucked in. braided hair, lipgloss, and a tupperware box filled with chocolate chip cookies for the whole club.
“my thanks for letting me crash your campaign.”
eddie was hooked. once the session was done and the boys were gone, thanking her profusely for the treats after they picked her brain for cryptid lore, she stayed behind to help eddie tidy up, and they talked about music. she was shy, incredibly so, soft spoken and giggly and socially awkward, but she laughed at eddie’s jokes and playfully teased him once or twice, and complimented his bats tattoo, so eddie offered her a ride home. she gracefully declined, claiming she drove herself, so he walked her to her car instead.
plans were made so that she attended each of dustin’s campaign sessions and through those sessions, the clean up afterwards, the talks about music and bands and movies, their time together evolved to going for milkshake afterwards, a coffee shop for some hot chocolate sometimes, and a friendship blossomed. a very strong one at that.
being alone, living alone, existing alone was kind of her thing— she preferred to be by herself, to indulge in her hobbies on her own, because she was anxious. extremely anxious. but apparently not at all reserved about it or ashamed of talking about it, which was proven by the fact that she casually let it slip pass her lips that she had an anxiety disorder the very first time she was alone with eddie after hellfire.
not a single sign of shame or guilt in admitting it, and eddie admired that.
admired that she was a loner even though she was so polite and kind, ready to send anyone she walked past a smile because she knew how much it mattered to those who needed a little kindness. a quiet soul but couldn’t shut up if you cared enough to figure out her interests, she laughed at everything, giggled without reason sometimes, talked to herself a lot, was often lost in daydreams, had a dark sense of humor surprisingly. complex but friendly. eddie couldn’t get enough, always wanting to find out more about her, to talk to her more, to understand her more.
but most importantly, in her opinion, eddie allowed her to be herself without any judgment. encouraged her even. and that was priceless. so yes, a strong friendship bloomed, but neither one of them wanted to stop at just that. the dark haired boy was quickly aware of his growing feelings, his attraction, his infatuation that turned to love, while his angel didn’t clock in on her emotions quite so fast, being entirely inexperienced and lacking any previous romantic validation. her anxiety and introverted tendencies played a part in that too, probably.
but that’s alright, eddie is more than okay with waiting for her to catch up.
── harmo’s footnotes:
i love thinking about our sweet eddie falling for a soft girl. he deserves a cozy, comfy, cute love story! please remember to show your support by reblogging!
masterlist. eddie dreams.
ghostlyfleur © — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, or translate.
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jymwahuwu · 1 month
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Hi! Really love your stories they always scratch my brain (*≧∀≦*)❤️, so I got an idea and wanted to ask what you think about it
I got this question with Sunday on the minigame/event (idk what to call it lol)
"Just as you're about to pull a dusty hard-leatherback book, you hear a gentle whisper within earshot, "Averoy Rosewood's works are notorious for their obscurity," the Oak Family Head Sunday faintly smiles at you. "Perhaps you need more elaboration."
(I couldn't put the image since anon asks don't allow me to put images😮‍💨, but it's from a Board Encounter in Cosmodyssey)
and when I read it my brain immediately went WHAT IF SUNDAY FILLS THE READER WITH A VIBRATOR ON THE LIBRARY, and him just watching in amusement as he talks about books and asking her questions about them while he plays with the levels of vibrations with a control on his hands and she just struggles to make sentences, so he goes and asks "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" To tease her and remind that she's in a public space and can't make much noise unless she wants everyone to know about what they're doing.
Hmm... I wrote this about Sunday, but I feel like maybe it could be about Jing Yuan or Aventurine 🤔, anyways sorry if it sounds weird my brain sometimes goes into unga bonga mode when I think about these men.
Sincerely,
An unhinged anon.
Thank you for telling me. I experienced this event and read the content of Sunday helping us in the library!! Wrote a little bit, I hope you like it 💗🫶
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cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, abuse of credit, vibrator, harassment
How about you being the librarian at The Family Library? A nerdy librarian. The Family claims that this is a library open to everyone to read and borrow, covering a variety of books and hologram collections.
Sunday, the leader of the Oak Family noticed you. He can accurately talk to you about your interests, hobbies and ideals, and encourage you…but one thing is that you are not religious enough in your belief in harmony. You are too withdrawn…and cannot integrate into The Family. Sing hymns, participate in activities, and protect The Family, others can do it, but what can you do? He cannot allow you to continue in this position under these circumstances. You panicked, grabbing his sleeves and pleading with him through tears. "W-what, I really believe Lord Xipe…I need this job badly! Please Mr. Sunday…"
He offered a plan. He used his gloves to push a delicate small box in front of you. You must put two vibrators in your underwear while on duty to test your professional abilities. If you can tolerate sinful sexual pleasure, you qualify for this position.
"But… Mr. Sunday, can I-can I take a break?"
"Of course. I'm not here to torture you. This is for your and everyone's happiness and harmony, I hope you understand." His words ignited the hope in your heart. "You have 2 hours a day to take them down. Allocate your own time. After get off work, you head to my office and I will check on your progress. You must do this every working day."
"Check?" Your heart sank into the starry sky and was crushed. "Okay. Mr. Sunday..."
These two vibrators… are pearl white and have an angel wings pattern on them. It's silent, but it delivers a surge of pleasure to your private parts, sometimes fast and sometimes slow down. It's not much better when it's slow - it's a long, quiet torture that gives you no relief. You kept your legs still and sorted your books and documents, your underwear getting wet. Every half minute, you check like a hawk to see if you have wet your clothes, fearing that it has become a joke in the eyes of others…
He occasionally wanders into the library to check on your work and ask you to recommend books in a certain category or answer questions about the collection.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Sunday approached you with caring eyes and ruthlessly pushed the controller frequency to the highest level. You lowered your head, holding back tears, your legs trembling. "I-I'm fine. Mr. Sunday. Thank you for your concern."
This kind-hearted gentleman and leader offers to take you to another secluded corner of the library to rest. On the road, Sunday dials down the vibration frequency and doesn't crank it up until you get to the corner. The intense ecstasy immediately hits you to the extreme and stimulates your nerves. You endured your moans, trembling in Sunday's arms as you reached orgasm. His hands caressed your hair like a lovable pet. He commented that your ability to endure needs to be improved.
After you get off work, Sunday asks you to take off all your clothes in the office and fold them on the table. He uses white gloves to inspect and rub your private parts, circling them with his thumb. In the watery light, those fingers slowly inserted between your legs and twitched. He clicked his tongue in disappointment when he realized that his fingers were already wet enough to slide into the inner walls before being inserted. "Not religious enough, are you? What are you thinking about? You're letting pleasure take over your body."
"...I'm sorry!! Mr. Sunday, Please give me a chance…" you begged with a sob, then cummed hard at his disappointed sigh.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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