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isamoa · 4 months

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“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”

jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.

ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc

ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.

ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol

SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. “can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”

SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.

TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”

CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”

#my goofy ahh side coming out with the choso one #THIS TOOK FOREVER #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto x reader #geto smut #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk men x reader #jjk smut #isamoa #jujutsu kaisen smut

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yanderestarangel · 5 months

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𖤐 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 - 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄!𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 + 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𖤐 TW: afab anatomy, dark!bi han, dark!tomas, sub!reader, headcanons, hard smut, bloodkink, master x sub, dark themes, v!sex, blowjob, praise, degradation, sex with blood, objectification, fuck aggressive, porn plot, anal sex, size kink, hard!dom bi han, hard!dom tomas vrbada, dumbification, bdsm, hunter!play.

𖤐 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

He was already a hard!dom before becoming a vampire, after that, things unfortunately escalated to levels never seen before. Bi Han felt like a god, something above everyone and especially a fragile creature like you - He will bite you, growl in sex, break you completely, until you are a mess full of his bites, bruises made by his hands even more flowers that he placed on your hips, like purple and red petals, a sign of who would always be in charge there.

The grand master will use his sharp fangs to draw your blood, while he fucks you senseless, his cock pulses even more in your spongy walls, his balls were cold and extremely heavy, with each thrust you could feel him leaving the flesh of your ass raw - and he loved every damn second of it -

Bi Han will keep you locked in his big castle now, with no freedom to leave, you are just his pretty slut now. He will stick his dick in you so many times during the day that he will make you cry and beg for more, every time he interrupts another orgasm of yours, degrading you as he puts his dick back in your overstimulated and aching pussy, the vampire loves it like your voice gets teary and loud with each point of pleasure he continues to hit.

"-Stop crying slut, just spread your legs and let me in again." Bi Han growled angrily, as he spread your thighs again, your wet hole was reddened from the hours he fucked you repeatedly and tirelessly, and he wasn't going to satisfy himself until he filled you completely, until you couldn't even remember your own name but only let his name come out between your moans, like a damned prayer or a lustful choir.

He's bigger than you, stronger, he could break you at any moment if you're not careful... And that's fucking exciting for him, the mere thought of being able to lift you through every corner of the dark stone rooms just with one of his arms, holding you like a rag doll and forcing you to look deep into his red eyes, while he tirelessly pounds your pussy, seeing the bulge that his shaft makes with each brutal entry, it's too much for him to handle, he can cum just by imagining the scene.

As a vampire, he is even more arrogant, a complete idiot, especially if it is in the context of: you are his and no one else's.

You are not allowed to even look at a lin kuei ninja or be the least bit friendly, if you do something that displeases Bi Han, he will fuck you right after a hunt, he reeked of blood, his pale skin was sweaty and dirty while his hair reflected in the light of the full moon. You would be on your knees in front of him - if he wants - for hours, he will force your throat to the limit, choking you, cruelly and deliciously impaling his cock down your throat while growling and laughing at seeing you in such a submissive and pathetic situation, worshiping his cock as if it were the only thing you knew how to do - and well, it was true - he will be there, throwing dirty words at you, mocking how you are only good for that, to satisfy him. "-I'm going to fuck you hard, make my dick slide into that pretty little pussy."

Bi Han will fuck you to the point of wanting to breed your little pussy, every day you will have at least a little of his thick seed painting your core, leaving you breathless as he watches you roll your eyes in pleasure, he will be rude, taking the his dick in a loud, erotic pop and fucking your breasts hard. "-You fucking slut, looking at this is making my dick harder" He laughed as he let out hoarse sounds, fucking your soft skin even more, the friction of your breasts was making him see the wet and slippery shaft disappear between your soft flesh. "-When I'm done here, I'm going to breed you again, until you're completely filled with my cum... like the pathetic, beautiful slut you are."

𖤐 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 | 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

When you saw Tomas arrive that night he wasn't the same man you were dating, but a darker version. Some kind of black liquid fell from his eyes, like dense tears. The blood symbol now marked your boyfriend's pale forehead, his lips were now a darker shade - lifeless - and sharp fangs made up his teeth. However, even with the dark change, there was still some remnant of what once was your beloved.

He won't be so submissive in bed anymore, he'll hold you down and pin you to the mattress, using one of his hands to hold onto your wrists while he thrusts your holes towards his hungry gauze - his dick will be willing, taking turns between hitting your pussy and your ass, both holes - now - are being used by the vampire, you can feel the weight of his cold skin, the blood of some victim he had to make on the way home, mixing with your fluids, dripping onto the sheets that were once white."-F-Fuuck Y-Yess- you have such tight holes my love, fuck I'm going to fuck you so hard-" Vrbada moaned hoarse and loud against your back. He will cum in both of your holes, while biting deeply into your skin, the pain, pleasure and blur of the world because of the orgasms and the overstimulation he does in your pussy, his fingers rub quickly and rigidly, making you scream into the night cold.

Tomas finds you so attractive, marked by him, with deep and painful marks on your body, red and pulsing from the brutality of his bites - on your ass, thighs, back, neck and belly - He will love biting your neck, while you ride him with force, as if your life depended on it, as Vrbada cums inside you again and again, you can't even count the jets of cum that come out of his shaft, as he lifts you with his strong arms, watching your cunt drip with cum from him. "-Holy shit look at this... You are really my little pearl, my dear." Tomas will fuck you in front of all the mirrors, loving seeing the scene of his hands covered in blood staining your clean skin, your body is perfect for him, he still loves you, but he will want to destroy you, leave you a stupid mess and trembles and he knows exactly how to do it.

Tomas will hunt you through the forests, he can smell your wet pussy for him from miles away, while he quickly managed to get to where you were, tearing your clothes and fucking you on the rough and hard ground, he will fuck your pussy several times and several times, the head of his dick will hit your uterus again and again, while he held your head against the ground, subduing your mortal and fragile body, you would curl your toes so hard with each of his thrusts, taking you to the limit, that I could swear I could break them. "-That's it! Keep it up, keep sucking my dick back into that slutty pussy Mmm- You're really my breed slut, aren't you? "

©𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 2023

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willowser · 9 months

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i will never stop writing bakugou as a shy, blushy loserboy, but. the idea of you being more inexperienced than him ??

you're carefully bandaging him up at the agency clinic, after he'd taken a nasty hit that left his shoulder scuffed up, and he's been in here with you more times than he can count, much too late at night, and maybe that's how you get into this conversation in the first place; weird stuff always gets said at this hour.

"no, i'm telling you," despite the vulnerability of what you're saying — despite the awful look that must be on his face — you're laughing. "never dated anyone, never been taken on a date, nothing."

and — he really must look truly terrible, with his mouth open and his lip curled over his teeth and his brows furrowed, because he can't hardly believe a fucking word you're saying. it pisses him off and he doesn't know why, just seems. a waste, for no one to have appreciated someone like you.

someone that he maybe thinks about too much, that is too nice and not funny to anyone but themselves but still laughs and hardworking and. so pretty that it annoys him.

his question comes out rough, harsh. "why the hell not?"

"i don't know," you shrug, eyes cutting to his before focusing back on patching him up. "i'm — probably too shy and weird, or something. and online dating is hard, y'know! some guys are really into the purity thing, like too into it, and some guys find out and won't touch me with a ten-foot pole, so," and then you shrug. like that's all there is to it.

and katsuki is just astounded to know this. not that he's ever done all that much himself, but all his bases have been covered, by now in his life, and he just really can't imagine anyone knowing you and not wanting to—

he realizes the irony of thinking this, like a punch to the gut. after knowing you for almost two years now and never so much as complimenting your stupid hair and the stupid way you wear it.

"well," katsuki grumbles, averting his eyes to the walls of the clinic, trying to seem more interested in your creepy, anatomy posters. "maybe he's comin'...or whatever."

"who's coming?"

"your guy, i don't know!" it's unfortunate that his shirt is off for this, because there's no way you aren't getting a perfect view of the flush that spreading down to his chest. "your dude, maybe he's...figuring it out."

"hmm, maybe. that's what my gran says, but who knows?" you shrug, oblivious — and suddenly your singleness makes a smidge more sense. "i've resigned myself to a touchless, loveless life for—"

"he's comin'!" katsuki barks and you startle at the outburst, eyes casting over his warm cheeks and then down his chest and back. finally, it fucking clicks for you, like he hasn't been finding excuse after excuse to see you every damn night for ages. "he's...checkin' his work schedule and then he's...gonna figure it out, alright?"

you brighten considerably, lip going between your teeth. "oh, yeah, yeah," and your smile is unstoppable, not hidden in the slightest as you turn to the steri-tray at your side, shyness bleeding into his own. "alright."

#WAAAAHHHH #he considers himself so inexperienced #to the point he's such a flustered fucking dork about dating anyone #and so it makes him remarkably nervous around you to begin with #and then he goes absolutely bonkers learning that you've done even less than HIM AKFHDJSKAKAL #he's PISSED like WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN NO ONE HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE #NEVER BOUGHT YOU SHITTY FLOWERS BEFORE #it is probably the thing that riles him up enough to make his move because he's just. so pissed about it alfbsisjai #lmaoooooo #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou

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fawnpires · 9 months

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hi! if the requests are open could you please do sex pollen with Simon Riley? if you don't write smut, that's fine. thank you for your time and I wanted to say that ur blog is rlly pretty<3

ʚ LUST FOR LIFE. ɞ — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: sex pollen, car sex, porn with some plot, tit-fucking, size kink, manhandling, praise, unprotected sex, loads of dirty talk, missionary position, eye contact, cum play.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ notes: omg i've done a sex pollen fic with simon before and it was literally so fun to write for, i would def write for it again. (and tysm angel! you’re literally the sweetest, ty again for requesting. <3)

The assigned mission had gone in several directions — one being the fact that a majority of your team had split up directly after being ambushed by the enemy with smoke grenades filled up with this sour yet saccharine-smelling powdery substance which had not yet been identified by the general public. For seconds, you had somehow ended up slumped in the cramped backseat of a hijacked pickup truck on the outskirts of a well-camouflaged forest right alongside your brooding, composed lieutenant who had unfortunately been impacted with that same substance a great number of your other team members had been affected with too — including yourself.

And you don't know how, but somehow you ended up with your military uniform torn off of you and discarded onto the flattened floor of the truck with only the white lace of your panties encompassing around the curves of your anatomy — laying on your back against the plush of the backseat's leather while your head rested against one of the locked, closed truck doors. Your skin was clammy, head overcrowded with incoherent clouds of thoughts while that swirling aroma of that substance lingered within your nostrils and never seemed to vanish away despite being impacted so many hours ago. Those doe eyes of yours were angled upwards, taking in the rare sight of your lieutenant's naked and brawny statuesque frame towering right above your more vulnerable figure.

"You're drivin' me fuckin' crazy, doll. Keep those pretty eyes on me now." he pants out between heavy breaths spilling past his parted lips, his body now slanted over you which caused his shadow to envelop you in its entirety.

Those tactical jeans of his were left to be undone and forgotten at his ankles alongside the cloth of his boxers while the softness of your bare breasts engulfed the pulsating, girthy length of his kept cock as it thrusted between the flesh. His hands and arms of exposure, now bulging of some veins and hardened muscles, kept a firm yet gentle grip at your breasts — kneading them in calloused palms enhanced of faded scars, some new and some fresh; most hard to recognize beneath the provided lighting of the truck's dimmed dome light. Aroused sighs and moans of contentment were drawn from the deep backs of your throat, flowing out in undetermined intervals. Your thighs were pushed and rubbing together as it creating some sort of friction and a distraction from the substance's strangely arousing side effects while you were basically getting off on the sight of his cock fucking right amid the valley of your breasts.

Your eyes never wanted to leave his, something about them was so entrancing in the moment. Each thrust at the flesh left you in a puddle of a needy mess, the blunt head of his cock peaking out between the tops of your breasts while his thrusts grew more desperate and sloppy to reach his initial high. Suppressed grunts were pronounced from past the darkened black fabric of his balaclava, the corners of his eyes twitching as he threw his head back; large hands continuing to maintain a hold on your breasts, tweaking your nipples while he fucked them with a ferocity that left him panting like a dog in heat. Slick began to drool past your panties, running down your inner thighs in a line of fluid while your jaw hung open to discharge those sounds of ecstasy. The atmosphere of the truck smelled of sex, the panes of the windows beginning to fog up in a hazy mist.

"Gonna cover these pretty lil' tits all full of my cum, lovie. I can't believe I've never given this pretty body a chance. " he gets out while a loud groan comes from him, the more he desperately moved his hips through the sensual simulation your breasts provided him — the more his climax got onto the verge of spilling out of him.

"Lieutenant, please..." your voice had the slightest hint of a whine to it, almost pleading him in a more high-pitched tone of voice.

"You sound so good f'me right now, sweet girl. Just hold on a little longer for me, baby. Almost there."

With that, he gives one last and particularly vigorous thrust between the mounds of your softened breasts; his hands traveling down to either sides at your waist, fingers depressing upon the skin as his head slanted a little more further back in pleasure with satisfied groans no longer being held in. His seed jetted out in fervent pulses onto the smooth stretch of your chest, adorning the skin in a sheet of pure and sticky fluid. As his head slanted forwards again back in regular position, his pupils appeared to be more dilated — giving him the look of some sort of rabid animal, seeking out for a way to quench his hungering lust. (In this case, using your body would be that designated method for appeasing that hunger - thanks to the substance's effects on the man.)

In a craving manner, you find Ghost briskly pulling up the lower edge of that skull balaclava he almost always sports on the physical features of his face; head lowering towards the supple flesh while his tongue eagerly laps at the liquid, brushing over either one of your nipples periodically — drawing one of those needy and pent-up whines from you. A hand is felt dragging down between your thighs, parting them from each other as his index and middle finger formed circular motions at your pantie-clad cunt, your body slightly shuddering at the contact towards your wet and sensitive area.

"God, you look even better with my cum all over your tits," Ghost chuckles lowly against your breasts, suckling and licking at them with his exposed lips. "Didn't know you were this desperate to be touched like this by a superior."

"Can't take it, Ghost, please. I need you inside me already."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Just a little bit more, I promise. Acting like a needy lil' thing, aren't you?" he responses in a breathless vocal tone, his accent more accented with each gravelly word spoken.

His fingers slip around the waistband of your panties, the wet article of clothing worn around your curves before it was yanked down your legs and left to be abandoned with the rest of your uniform. Ghost lets out a deep grunt at the sight of your naked figure, his lips granting both of your breasts subtle little kisses before straightening himself back up and imposing right over you. He was moderately leaned over you, his hands adjusting your legs to rest on top his shoulders before drifting down to settle at both sides of your waist. His now solid cock rests at your lower abdomen, kisses being pressed into your right calf while his body slowly grinds against the perspired surface of your exterior skin.

The precise, kept movement of his raw hips had your head rolling back against the door of the vehicle — right in a state of an almost overwhelming, yet such raw ecstasy — in addition to more sweat trickling and trickling down onto the leather beneath where you laid at. His mouth stayed attached to your calf, advancing and pressing those gentle kisses of his onto the clammy limb, (Despite his rough, cold-blooded presence out of the field; he was the most gentle towards you, almost in resemblance to a lover.) Your teeth bit into the flesh of your lower lip, gnawing feebly at it while your cunt throbbed excessively in unrhythmic patterns. His teasings were going straight to your aching head as the aftermath of the substance, now well-acknowledged to be running through the course of your veins, only seemed to worsen without relief.

Fortunately, he took notice of your practically pleading exterior on display just for him; causing him to lean back a few inches from your body before steadying himself over you, eyes never faltering from yours as his cock angled right at the entrance of your sopping cunt as he slowly inched himself inside the warmth of your walls accompanied with a squelch audible throughout the vehicle. His free hand was left to press up against the fogged pane of nearest window, a prominent cast of his palm being left there. His other hand held at your hip, beads of sweat outlining at his cloth-wrapped forehead while it trickled down past the visible eye area of his balaclava — combining with that black, smeared eye-paint gracing around those dulled brown eyes. A distinct grunt came from him at the sensation of your cunt engulfing him, and a whimper of a reached relief sourced from the initial contact of his hips pressed against yours.

"There you go. Such a good girl, taking me in so well." the lieutenant cooes from above you, his voice hoarse and slightly strained while his hips sustained a pleasant rhythm.

"Mmm— fuck, Ghost... feels so good." you moan out, eyes nearly closing to fully indulge in the sensation.

"And your pussy feels like damn heaven, Jesus." his words were spoken through a grunt, his hand at the window smudging at the fog. "Keep those eyes on me, want you to look me in the eye — know who's fucking you, making you feel this good."

The smallest smirk is held at one corner of his lips at your words of praise, his hand at your hip using the thumb to gently stroke at the skin while his thrusts increased in speed. Shamelessly, soft moans and various noises of pleasure were being pulled out of you now as his each pump of his hips into you was shaped into the interiors of your cunt. Your nails dug into leather below you, legs trembling out of bliss on-top of his sturdy and muscled shoulders tensing from the vast mass of euphoric feelings the both of you were undergoing. With each passing thrust within you, his motions quickened up through you, the head of his cock kissing right at your cervix repeatedly without stop.

Arousal was the only thing, the only emotion that your body could be running on at this exact moment — your inner thighs stained with your slick, leaving a small pool of fluid under you; evidence to how good he really made you feel when fucking right into you. Resonates of skin-against-skin and more noises of sexual matter filled up the once silent truck, the windows nearly curtained and blocked off with fog sourcing from the both of your bodies continually pressing up against each other. His hips angled in different kinds of ways, just to aim his cock right against the spots that would cause your back to arch off the seat and your hips to slightly raise in the air. More sweat began to form at your skin, glistening underneath the dim lights.

Your legs were more spread apart, nevertheless still perched on his shoulders as the positioned of your body arched off the seat raised body gave him a better approach to pound into you. His sweat mixed in with yours, cock drilling into your pussy at an pace that could be almost considered violent by the looks of it. He had his hand pushing down a little more into your hip, his build tilted over your own. Moans of his title — of his military title — were being moaned out from you in a head full of rapture where you saw stars in your vision, which fueled that arousal just about leading to his climax once he heard that angelic tone of yours speaking his name.

"You fuck me so good, sir." you whimpered in a fragile voice, that built-up tension in your stomach almost at its high.

Those words of yours were almost enough to drive him over the edge, but his composure was held onto just for a little longer.

"That's right, lovie. I'm the only man who can fuck you like this, nobody else, yeah?" he pants out, the violent pace of his beginning to stutter just at the slightest. His composure was slipping off now, without a doubt. "Can feel you squeezing me — shit, — let go for me, angel, come on."

With his words basically giving you the permission, your body stiffens while a series of whimpers and moans are mainly heard from a clear volume. Your cunt clenches around his cock while it remains still up against your cervix as he gives into a climax the same time as you do, his near-animalistic groans merging with your much softer moans. Ghost gives a single, last thrust before hot waves of pleasure spill from him as he fills your cunt to the brim with the warmth of his seed. Heavy breaths of almost exhaustion come from him for a few moments longer before he slowly pulls out of you, your weakened body vaguely at the feeling of it. His eyes sweep down from your eyes, to the rise and fall of your breasts, to the perspective of his seed spilling out from the puffy lips of your cunt and onto the splattered material of the seats.

By now, the influence of the substance has sufficiently gone down considering the quantities of alleviation that you and Ghost had managed to release off of each other. (In the most intimate, non-expected way possible — and during a full-on mission.) He cautiously lowers his hand at your hip to dip between your soaking thighs, the heel of his palm rubbing at your raw, delicate flesh dripping of both of your sticky releases. Your mind finally goes conscious for the first time since both you and him had temporarily hid out in this truck; a faint flush coming to rise at your cheeks once the realization hits you — you fucked a superior, your literal lieutenant.

It’s not like the either of you were to blame, you think.

He then leans down to you, palm still rubbing at your folds as you shakily sigh out, a kiss being pressed into your forehead. It was abnormally sweet, especially coming from someone like him. But you weren’t complaining, — as long as he wasn’t pissed about fucking a subordinate, such as yourself, or had any regrets about doing any of this with you; drug’s influence or not. You can’t help but allow your face to flush lightly at the kiss, a small blush blossoming around your cheeks. He then wholly lowers back the edge of his pushed-up balaclava, his full face now concealed like always.

“You regret any of this?” you asked quietly, not out shame or sadness, but a genuine curiosity to hear from his side. Your breaths were still coming out shaky from his rubbing palm.

It’s dead silence coming from him, before he then speaks up with a slight unpredicted chuckle.

“Regret this?” Ghost repeats back to you, his head cocked to the side as his eyes find yours once more. He looks at you as if you told some kind of joke to him — or just said something really stupid. “No way in hell would I regret doing something like this with a girl that has your looks, or your sweetness, sweetheart.”

“Good, but you better not be saying that because of the stuff we got hit with.” your said more teasingly.

“Nah. I only speak truth from my cold, dead heart, love.” his deep voice responds back to you, the corners of his black-smudged eyes crinkled in an indication of a grin.

#. ˚ ʚ — ꒰ simon riley. ꒱#ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #female reader #.୨୧ fawnpires

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roseykat · 3 months

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hard thought: kitty girlfriend!reader to Chan who he is very strict but soft with. She can be pretty disobedient and plays up frequently, like when he has guests over, or she doesn’t listen to him in bed, and especially when she is in heat.

If that’s the case, Chan effortlessly pulls out every stop he can think of. Methods of punishment, restriction, and pain seem to work the best to subdue her. He has to dedicate practically more than half a day to this by restraining her to the bed, or handcuffing her - anything that keeps her from moving. Pain play will slip her into subspace; a natural way to quieten her brain so that she’s not so hyper trying to jump onto Chan’s cock and fuck herself silly on it.

Secondly is giving her as many orgasms as he can to tire her out. Whether its by going down on her, fucking her with his dick or fingers (she knows which one makes her cum the hardest), or using an array of toys just to keep her satisfied. He understands however that if he doesn’t do any of this, it can become extremely painful when it goes ignored.

Being a fully fledged human however, he unfortunately has his limits. Chan is extremely fit - fitter than the average human, but he hasn’t got untapped stamina that he could just pour into fucking her just about every hour of every day of the week during her heat.

As a result, Chan has to resort to another method that seems to work efficiently - hitting up one of his best friends’ to come in and take his place for the remainder of the week. His best friend who has a similar anatomy to hers, who knows how to deal with another’s heat…

…Kitty!Minho.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut

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futterurl · 6 months

Text

Owe It To You

Josh Futturman x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut (mdni!), oral(f!recieving), fingering, clit play, female anatomy on reader

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you were tired, to say the least.

going back in time, checking on the future to the same, demented outcome, really took a toll on you guys. it always seemed as if every effort and alternative path taken for the future didn’t matter.

you were lost in thought as tiger and wolf fought with each other, it was the same empty argument: wolf didn’t listen, tiger wanted control. it was draining to hear.

you all were in Joosh’s super house, taking a peek at how fucked up you all made this future. you left the living room in frustration, heading up to Joosh’s room.

you crashed onto the bed, covering your face with a pillow, letting out a low groan. you were tired of all the fighting, all the time travel, everything. you needed a break.

you heard a knock on the door, followed by a calming voice asking, “hey, you okay?”

you lifted the pillow from your face, seeing josh, peaking the door open, worry etched on his eyebrows. he knew how much of a toll this was starting to take on you, you guys were best friends, after all.

“yeah, just…tired, is all.” you half mumbled into the pillow, just loud enough so he could barely hear.

he leaned off the door and sat on the bed that you lay on. he scratched your head.

“something’s telling me there’s more to it than that.” he inquired.

“i don’t know…i guess i’m just tired of all this shit.” you began. “we try so hard to perfect the future, but are met with the same outcome. i’ve been trying to think left and right of new ideas…nothing’s working.”

he understood that this was only the tip of the iceberg, regarding your feelings for all this. when you got roped up into this mess, you left more behind than him. you left behind an internship you had busted your ass off for, and two other jobs, which you probably got fired from, due to your absence.

you had two different jobs just to meet ends meet, in your shitty apartment. sure, they were crappy, dead-end jobs, but they helped you get ends meet. you were somehow able to balance those along with your internship which you fought so hard to get.

all down the drain.

in a way, it was relieving, not having to juggle all of this, living every day as a drained, sleep deprived zombie.

unfortunately, this scenario was just like everything else in your life: there was no way out.

“i know, i know…i really am sorry you got dragged into this. it’s all my fault.” josh sighed.

it had just been a fun night of you guys playing video games, finally beating this one you guys had been playing for…forever. once you guys were just hanging out and talking about it, in a flash of light, wolf and tiger had appeared, needing the people who beat the game’s help. immediately. you both were there, so they needed the both of you.

“it’s not your fault, josh…we did it together, we gotta get through this together.” it really wasn’t his fault. you didn’t want him to think that.

“no, it is. i’m constantly getting you roped into all the shit that happens in my life, and you’ve been working your ass off to fix this timeline. you deserve better.” josh stroked your hair.

you sat up. “it’s okay, josh. there’s nobody i’d rather fix the timeline with.”

“still, it’s not fair. all of this isn’t fair. let me…let me make it up to you.” he seemed a bit nervous and started hesitating on his words.

you started to feel a little hot. “how would you go about ‘making it up to me’, josh?”

you did not expect what he did next.

josh was this awkward gamer nerd who had never felt the touch of a woman before. he’d always been so out of place and nervous talking to anyone, which made it so weird to hear what he said next.

“let…let me make you feel good.” his hand laying on the bed crept closer to your thigh, covered by your pants.

you started to get a little nervous yet excited. you had never seen him be this bold before.

“you’ve been so stressed by everything in life, and i mean everything. a-and you never have anyone help you out with anything. i want to help you…feel good, like stress relief.” his pinkie played with the fabric of your pants.

you couldn’t believe this was real right now. josh, the one you had known for years, barely having the balls to talk to girls besides you, doing this. your mine was racing.

he noticed how quiet you were being. “o-of course you don’t have to let me do it if you don’t want to! it was just an idea, it was stupid, i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythi-”

he was cut off by you kissing him, hand holding his jawline. he melted into the kiss.

as you pulled away, you smiled. “i…i think i do want this. please, josh. make me feel good.”

“okay…okay..” he started to trail off with his words as his thumb ran back and forth on your cheek. “before i do this, i just wanna let you know that if you’re uncomfortable, please tell me, and we’ll be done. won’t have to speak of it ever again. promise.”

he was very sweet. sure, he was awkward, but he put your comfort and pleasure first. it made you feel happy and safe.

he went back to softly kissing you as his hand went slightly under your shirt and rubbed your waist, just above your pants. soft, delicate touches.

as he unbuttoned your pants, he tapped your hips twice, signaling for you to lift them up. as you did, he tugged your pants down at an agonizingly slow pace. he was such a fucking tease.

his eyes became infatuated with your lace underwear you were wearing. the way it clung to your hips was driving him mad. he hoped you couldn’t tell how crazy you were making him. he toyed with the fabric as you smiled.

“as much as i love these,” he snapped them on your hips. “i’m gonna have to take them off. is that okay with you?”

you felt so safe, knowing how tender he was being. he didn’t want to fuck this up. you lifted your hips. “that’s more than okay with me, josh.” you played with a handful of his hair.

he dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening cunt to him. he audibly gasped, he couldn’t believe he was doing this to you. sure, he always thought you were sweet, and even fantasized about doing things like this to you, but he didn’t think it’d ever happen.

he was lost in thought, staring at your cunt. you started to get insecure, closing your legs. “josh, stop staring.” you pleaded.

he shook his head. “sorry, you’re just…so beautiful. i can’t believe it.” he thumbed little circles on your inner thigh.

“can i…feel you? down there, i mean?” he asked. god, he was so awkward it was funny.

you nodded your head. “yeah. please.”

his fingers started inching closer and closer to where you needed them most. suddenly, he ran one through your slit, barely touching your clit. you shuddered. that felt good.

“fuck…you’re so wet. you’re so hot.” he ran his finger slowly around your clit, seeing if he’d get any reactions from you. you silently gasped.

“that..that felt really good. please keep doing that.” you felt so good right now. no guy had ever focused on making you feel good before. this was new. you liked it.

“god, please moan for me. love the little noises y’make.” josh was rubbing your clit a bit faster, making you let out a quiet moan.

“f..fuck. feels good. really good.” feeling that little area constantly stimulated was the ticket. you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“can i…can i put a finger in?” he asked, slowing down his aggression on your clit.

you furiously nodded your head, your pussy clamping down on nothing. wanting to be filled. by him.

“please, please josh.” you said, getting lost in the pleasure. you let out a grunt as he slowly inserted a finger inside you.

“fuck, it’s only one finger but you’re so tight, fuck.” he started to ramble as he moved his finger in your wetness. you squirmed a bit. it felt so good, his thick finger getting lost in you.

“m’ gonna put another one im, ‘kay?” he asked, prodding another finger to your tight hole. you nodded, to which he slowly put it in. you groaned at the tight stretch.

“you good?” he asked. he wanted this to be good for you. the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“yeah, was just..new, was all. please keep going. feels good.” you went on.

he did just that. he curled his fingers inside you, pumping them at a quick pace. that, with stimulation he was putting from his thumb to your clit, was making you moan left and right. you felt something stirring inside you.

“god, you’re so cute like this…should’ve done this sooner.” he gushed, turning you on even more.

“fuck, m’close.” you panted.

as soon as the feeling met you, it left as he pulled his fingers out of you.

you looked up at him, confused. “why’d you do that?” you asked.

he started to sink down. “as much as i was getting into that, i wanna see you cum on my tongue.” he kissed your thighs.

you felt the wetness pool inside you even more once he said that. god, you couldn’t get that image out of your head now.

“please, fuck, josh. make me cum on your tongue.” you pleaded as he slowly trailed to your inner thighs, giving them a lot of attention. you had taken him for the thigh guy, but not to this extent.

“since you asked so nicely…” he lowered his head, taking a long lick to your cunt, you releasing a pornographic moan.

“fuck…feels s’good josh…oh my god.” you had never felt this type of pleasure anywhere, and here he was, giving it to you like his life depended on it.

he gave a light kiss to your clit before lightly tracing his tongue over it, testing the waters. once he heard you becoming a moaning mess, he licked it with more vigor, wanting to pull these moans out of you.

the stimulation felt like no other, him focusing on making out with your clit and entrance. he pulled your thighs closer to his face as he licked at more of your slick.

you pulled at his hair, letting out breathy moans. he groaned at this. hard. right into your cunt, which felt so fucking good. you could feel your back arch off the bed as he lapped into your juices, him tonguing your clit. your nails scratched at his scalp as that familiar pit in your stomach came back.

“josh…so close…holy shit.” you moaned as his tongue swirled around you.

“please, come on my face. please.” he pleaded. the vibrations his voice sent to your core sending you even closer. “wanna make you feel better than you ever have. come on my tongue.”

one final stroke of his tongue lead you to your peak, your thighs tightening around his face. you let out incoherent babbles as you came on him. he continued to lick you as you rode out your high.

once you calmed down, you looked down at him, catching your breath. he had slick all over his face and wore a dopey smile. “are you okay?” he asked.

“never better.” you replied. “that felt so fucking good josh. thank you. so much.” you caressed his cheek.

“i hope it’s not too weird to tell you i enjoyed that.” he had a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“oh! not at all. it was amazing. i can’t thank you enough.” you smiled, laying onto the pillow.

“no, i can’t thank you enough. you always stay by my side and always fix my messes. this is the least that i could do.” he said as he handed you a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand, which you took.

“i’ll always be here for you, if you ever wanna do shit like this again, or even something soothing like a massage.” he added.

you put the glass of water down, hugging him. “you’re so sweet, josh. i appreciate it so much. you’re such a good person, i really hope you know that.”

“anything else you need?” he asked.

“take a nap with me for awhile?” you asked. you had gotten very sleepy.

“of course.” he get under the covers, cuddling you and stroking your hair. “i’ll do anything for you, i hope you know that.”

you nuzzled into his chest, getting comfortable. “you too, joshy.” you mumbled as you started to fall into a deep sleep.

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a/n: hi guys first(ish) post. hope u enjoyed :p pls send requests as well! i’m so bad at ideas

#josh futturman smut #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #future man #future man smut

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maxislvt · 7 months

Text

Maritime Masochism

pairing(s): pirate!natasha romanoff x siren!reader

summary: Natasha was a woman born to explore the seven seas and all they had to offer. You were but a simple siren. Though none of her crew trust you, Natasha found it impossible to let you go.

warnings: afab!Reader, Dom!Natasha, Sub!Reader, boot humping,

a/n: I have sooo many thoughts about them but not enough time so this kinda sucks 😞 @wifeofnatasharomanoff

Event Masterlist

Natasha's heart only had one true love. The ocean had always called to her.

Her father was dishonorably discharged from the navy and her mother was the rebellious daughter of a fisherman. Natasha was practically born to be a pirate.

Natasha was made for the sea. Her lungs were meant to only inhale the bitter saltiness of the air and her eyes were cameras determined to capture every beautiful creature within the ocean. Only her nose could truly appreciate the stench of the ocean. She was blessed with hair long enough to catch the winds of the sea like a sail and ears sharp enough to hear all the beautiful songs the mermaids sang. Yet her hands had nothing.

When she was younger Natasha would occupy them by playing around in the sand and collecting sea shells. Now she was thirty years old and couldn't find much more than a fleeting join. Occasionally she'd pick up something interesting for Steve to draw but nothing that truly interested her. Natasha wasn't even foolish enough to consider wasting precious sea life for the sake of entertainment. She later found she didn't have the heart or the stomach to dissect it even if it died of natural causes.

Poseidon must have been particularly endeared by her respect for his creations because the ocean had given her something much more willing to deal with her unoccupied hands.

Natasha remembered the day she met you very clearly. Her men had decided to dock on a seemingly uncharted island to rest and gather some resources. Her father had always warned her about landing in places that seemingly did not exist, but Natasha had a crew much more competent than the others.

Amid her exploration, she heard a song. You sang a song of hubris and overconfidence to a woman much too strong and far too determined. Unlike all the sailors you had eaten before, Natasha was not driven by lust. Curiosity and raw strength were all she needed to overpower you.

Natasha had you pinned down and subjected to some rather intense questioning. You had many of your own. The two of you talked for hours. Everything you knew about humans was only from eating them. Natasha only knew about sea life from the perspective of a human. The hours flew by until Natasha's crew came looking for her. It was at that moment that you made a split-second decision. You grabbed Natasha's hand and joined her crew without a second thought.

It was love at first sight for both of you, but Natasha had something else in it for her. When she slit the palm of your hand, you bled a shimmery blue substance. It was then that Natasha's lack of knowledge of your anatomy became apparent. She was curious and that curiosity would be the death of you. Natasha wanted to experiment. She wasn't a scientist like Tony or Bruce, but she figured conducting research couldn't be that hard. Especially since you were a mostly willing subject.

"Your teeth are so clean," Natasha noted as she examined your teeth. They were smooth and white as pearls. It was shocking, especially considering how sharp they were. She curiously poked her thumb against one of the fangs. "They're so sharp too," She whispered in awe. Her fingers grazed your bottom lip and pushed down until your tongue came out.

It was quite long and had a strange purple color. The tip of it was pointed and strangely flexible. Teasingly, you slipped the wet muscle between Natasha's fingers. Unfortunately, it didn't have the reaction you wanted. Natasha pulled her hand away and began writing in a little red notebook. "What, did you not like that?" You asked nervously.

"It was interesting." She mumbled absentmindedly. Natasha focused entirely on writing for an awkward amount of time. "Can you pull your tongue out again?" An appreciative smile spread across her lips. It was deceptively cute. Her thumb pressed down on the center of your tongue and rubbed it until you started to drool. She took note of the thickness and color. "Is this just saliva or can it do other things?"

"It can be an aphrodisiac in large amounts," You mumbled while wiping your chin. You were confused. Was Natasha teasing you or was this her weird way of learning more? It didn't feel right but it wasn't wrong. As long as she didn't start cutting you open, there wasn't much to worry about. That's what you hoped at least.

𓆞༄･ﾟ𓆝࿐ ࿔*: 𓆟 𓆞༄･ﾟ𓆝࿐ ࿔*: 𓆟

Natasha had yet to pull out the surgical tools, but her exploration of you had gotten a lot more sensual.

"Nat, you have to be gentle or— ah."

You would've never thought coming back from a swim would warrant another impromptu examination. Well, you should've seen it coming. Natasha had never seen you in deep sea form before. If she didn't pester you about what you ate, she'd probably try and get a scale off of you.

"Does it hurt?" Natasha's voice came out with a husky accent. Her finger massaged your gills as gently as possible. "It feels good in my hand." The fins on your ears weren't as soft and sensitive as the ones on your neck. Their purpose was obvious and Natasha had already documented it in her notebook. Now she was just toying with you. "What about that?" It doesn't, but she liked to tease a bit.

You could barely keep yourself upright. "No, it just-" your hands clamped down over your mouth to suppress any noises that may have slipped out. The rest of the crew had made some not-so-subtle complaints about all the moaning that leaked through the cracks of Natasha's quarters. "You're having too much fun with this," You whimpered. It was pathetic. Sirens were one of the most dangerous creatures in the ocean and here you were being a plaything for some pirate.

Even when your knees buckled Natasha continued to tease. She placed her boot between your legs and smirked. "This is all the help you're gonna get from me." The laugh that came out of her was nothing short of evil. "Come on, don't be shy. It'll make you feel good." The tip of her boot nudged against your clit.

Your hips stuttered but eventually, you settled your cunt against the cold leather. The fabric of your panties was a frustrating barrier between you and proper stimulation. Your hips rolled forward at an unsteady pace. "Can't you just touch me?" You whined. It was hard to keep your voice low.

Natasha pressed harder. "I am touching you, you're just being greedy." Her thumb caressed the underside of your gills. She watched as your body frantically jerked and squirmed. The wet squelch from your cunt made her ears perk up. "Did you cum?"

You wanted to cave in on yourself and disappear into the depths of the ocean. "Don't tease me like this. You know the answer to that." You grumbled. The sticky fabric clinging to your mound was unbearable. Humiliation made your skin burn and your scales turned a sickly green color.

Natasha gasped and titled your head to the side. “I didn’t know your scales could change color.” Her hands rubbed the scales. She was a lot more gentle this time to avoid overstimulating you. Suddenly aware of the fact she may have gone a bit too far, she knelt in front of you. Maybe you would find her less intimidating now that she wasn’t towering over you. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders to give you some proper affection.

You clear your throat in an attempt to keep the tears of embarrassment from flowing. As odd as it was, you couldn't find it in yourself to be upset with Natasha. You should've expected such strange affection from a woman somehow able to withstand the temptation of your song. "It's okay…" You're not entirely sure what else to say. Your relationship with her was just starting to develop and it was already so overwhelming. "I knew you were a weirdo, I just didn't think you'd be a freak too."

Natasha giggled and placed a kiss on one of your gills. "Whelp, you're in it for the long wrong now."

#natasha fanfiction #natasha fanfic #natasha smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #Pluto's Halloween Bash 2023

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Note

What are some of your Will headcanons?

Any angsty ones?

hair style:

will's hair has a Mind Of Its Own. it is impossible. brushing it? keep dreaming. styling it? dude just give up

he can, however, wrangle it into two french braid pigtails. those are fun.

in the august after the giant war, the aphrodite cabin take it upon themselves to 'style' nico, including giving him these little elastics with a skull charm (like this but with skulls), but he doesn't like tying his hair back very much (too tight) so he gives them to will as a joke.

will LOVES them.

he literally wears them almost every day. the next time they go out on a supply run, nico sees these little elastic charms and buys them for will. he can't summon the courage to give them to him face to face but he leaves them on his bed. will adores them, too, and it starts something of a tradition of people giving will charm elastics as a small thank-you.

he has a collection of them and wears them whenever he wears his hair in braids.

his favourites are the skull charms, though.

artistic ability:

will really doesn't have many musical talents. he's hard of hearing and while hephaestus-made hearing aids definitely work better than mortal ones, it's not really something that can be cured, so he has a lot of trouble staying on key/making music himself.

however! apollo is the god of poetry and art in general -- that is more than just visual!!

will is a really good writer, poetry especially. he's very articulate and verbose and writes with startling clarity. he's written a lot of songs and a lot of poems, although he hasn't shown anybody in years.

he used to share them with his older brothers and sisters and sibling, but...well. obviously that's no longer an option.

he's never stopped writing, though. he may keep it to himself, but it's kind of an open secret. he's scribbling in his notebooks all the time -- it's impossible not to notice.

his friends and siblings, however, are the only ones who know that he writes creatively. they've peeked over his shoulder here and there (and also kayla is a huge huge snoop, like, badly, and austin is easily convinced to be complacent in her crimes), and sometimes he says things that are just kind of poetic.

no one else knows, though. he's deliberately obnoxious about it -- every once in a while, at campfire open mics, he'll clear his throat loudly and grin as people groan and recite something so bad apollo might have written it. most people think will's quite bad at writing, actually.

another thing he's really good at is drama, which is a surprise to absolutely no one. although beyond his regular histrionics, chiron had shakespeare as part of his curriculum, and will could play puck like nobody's business. he recited a mercutio so good once lee actually cried with laughter (so did everyone else). on a hauntingly beautiful february in 2004, he played ophelia by the creek so beautifully that it was silent for a good four minutes after he finished.

there are very, very few people at camp who remember that. will hasn't recited anything in a while.

an unexpected bonus of his medical knowledge, actually, is a really good understanding of depth, space, and anatomy.

he's a surprisingly good artist.

it started pretty normal -- he was having trouble articulating a question to michael one time, and in a fit of frustration drew a diagram to try and explain himself. it was really good, even as rushed as it was, so michael used to give him 'homework' that was hand-drawing posters of various body systems to hang in the infirmary.

it was kind of spooky how will could do it without looking it up. just close his eyes and start sketching an accurate nervous system. cool though.

his older sister, cass, encouraged him to branch out of anatomy diagrams and create whatever he liked. she made the unfortunate mistake of giving him several cans of paint and free reigns on blank infirmary walls (they're freaky and boring) to a nerdy eight-year-old -- that's why r2d2 and c3po are chilling on the wall by the mortal medicine cabinet.

he doesn't paint a lot now, 'cause he doesn't have the damn time, but when rachel finds out who painted the infirmary walls she hounds him until he takes a morning to paint with her. they have a lot of fun. they end up with more paint on each other and their clothes than their canvases, predictably.

siblings:

when will was a kid, he had twelve older siblings.

apollo tends to have kids in brackets. he is, as everyone knows, a hoe, so he'll be busy on olympus or with artemis and go a while without having any kids, and then he'll be on earth for like three years and have a litter. so a lot of his kids end up the same age.

before the war, in the same cabin, there was: cass, the oldest, 18, somewhat year-long; diana, 18, year-long; lee, 16, somewhat year-long; michael, 16, somewhat year-long; gabriel, 15, summer-only; leanna, 15, summer-only; mercury, 15, summer-only; kate & phoebe, 14, summer-only; laurel, 13, summer-only; amir, 13, summer-only; melody, 12, summer-only; and will, 8, year-long (for now).

their abilites were pretty vast and well-rounded, and they came from all over the continent.

there was a time when the infirmary wasn't understaffed at all.

will doesn't like to think about it.

style:

on their birthdays, apollo leaves them all a gift on their bunks (or their beds at home, if their birthdays aren't in the summer).

each of them gets a piece of blessed gold jewelry when they're ten. will got a pair of threader earrings with thin blue sapphires that he loves. he can't wear them often because they're a genuine hazard in the infirmary (yes, more than flip-flops) and he doesn't want them ruined. but he wears them on the rare days he has off.

he actually has quite a lot of jewelry! because he is a sappy nerd, he has two watches: a hephaestus-made one, totally waterproof, weatherproof, and monsterproof, because it helps quell the anxiety when so many people are counting on him (he has to know when people will be better and how long he can be away from his patients, also used to tell people to fuck off when he's on break lol); and his mother's much nicer watch that she gave to him when she dropped him off at camp for the first time -- it's not changed for the time zone. he knows what time it is for her, and it makes him feel better about being so far away from her.

he wears both watches on the same wrist, ala chad danforth.

he has a third watch. it was lee's. it's got r2d2 on the face. will got it for him with his own money when he was nine years old, for his birthday. it lives in a box under his bunk. it's cracked and broken and never tells the right time except on 1:52 p.m. on june 30th, although the year gets farther and farther off every time will checks it.

contrary to popular belief, will does not actually wear the same pair of cargo shorts every day.

...because he has seven pairs of the same shorts.

he does have other shorts through. namely swim trunks and a pair of tighter shorts he wears specifically to kick ass in volleyball. he didn't try for this or anything, he got the shorts at the thrift store, but he's pretty sure they might be designer. he gets a lot of compliments from the aphrodite cabin when he wears them.

he also has a collection of nerdy t-shirts (his anakin sand-rant t-shirt is worn to threads), novelty pajama pants, hoodies, and flannel.

he has more than one tattoo. he has several, actually; constellations, lines from freckle to freckle so faint you can barely see them: the seer, the drummer, the archer, the tiny lion, the archangel, the maiden, the lyre, the twins, the boat stern, the hearth, and the singer.

just plain will:

he's slightly red-green colourblind.

when he gets mad, his cheeks puff up and he gets all red in the face before erupting. his older siblings used to call him tinkerbell.

he gets teased for being so dramatic that he was named for the most dramatic apollo kid who ever lived -- shakespeare. but his actual, legal name is just plain will solace. when pregnant, his mom used to mutter 'it's you, me, and sheer fucking force of will, baby' to herself a lot, as a kind of mantra, and then will was born and she thought it would be kind of funny to name him will (she was right). lee invented william andrew solace so he'd have something to yell when will got in trouble lol.

he has the climbing wall record. this is because he climbs a lot of trees. he has no explanation and no one is going to stop him.

when he was a kid, and the whole mythology thing was explained to him, he misnderstood michael's explanation of food sacrifice as one to be done to all theoi/mythical beings. he worked his way to praying through the entire pantheon, a horde of minor gods, hestia, chiron, argus, and half the nymphs before someone caught wind and explained to him properly. it is the main reason all the nymphs and dryads are so endeared by him. he used to go around asking their names and very seriously writing it down in his little notebook to pray to them properly.

he carries around notebooks constantly. at first, diana gave them to him because he was driving everyone bonkers with his endless questions and she needed Five Minutes, Will, Gods, Please of silence, but he really took to it and wrote everything in there. he keeps them all as a sort of diary. kayla reads them any time he has his back turned.

it is really, really hard for him to talk about his siblings. but he knows kayla and austin feel kind of left out and hurt about it, since they didn't get the chance to know them like will did (the kids never met them), so sometimes, late at night, he calls them softly over to his bunk and they curl up, one under each arm, and he tells them stories until his voice goes hoarse and they're long asleep.

#i have so many fucking more but i have to stop because i actually want to write some of these so bad #dude.....the LORE this ask inspired i have pages and pages #why did no one tell me how fun and also heartbreaking it is to invent characters #will solace #will solace headcanon #will solace angst #ask #longpost #headcanon #pjo headcanon #my writing #solangelo

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yandere-romanticaa · 5 months

Text

trigger warning: abuse, animal death, malnutrition, my horrible writing. not proofread, we die like men!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍 - part 1. (you are here!)

masterlist.

The bitter scent of nicotine clings to him wherever he goes, his cold, brown eyes devoid of life as he wakes up and gets ready for another day. Every day is the same - wake up, get ready for work, work, head back home, rinse and repeat. He was living. But, he was not alive.

As long as he could remember, this was the life which Viktor Martinović (read as Martinovich) was leading.

Growing up his family was always distant. Cold. Even scattered at times. He had some siblings, some alive, others long gone from the Earth. To him they were all like air, non-existent and invisible but yet oh so relevant. His father hailed from Croatia while his mother was an American. Viktor could recall some more peaceful times as he would sit on the front porch of his house, his grandmother serving him tea while his grandfather told him many stories. Be it folklore, urban legends, random stories he made up, Viktor loved them all. Unfortunately, he could not see his grandparents very often as they lived in the US and the cost of travel was a rare luxury to him.

The time he spent with his grandparents was precious. He was positive that it was the only time he felt true joy and tranquility. With them he could be a little boy and do what all the little boys did - run around the streets with his feet bare, fall hard onto the ground and skin his knees, find dead animals on the ground and poke at their remains.

That last thing became a favorite past time of his.

Be it birds, dogs, cats, hedgehogs, no tiny critter was safe from his clutches. At first he did nothing but poke the dead critter with some random stick. Its lifeless eyes would stare back at Viktor, taunting him to take more action. However, one day his father caught him poking a mangled little bird which Viktor did not understand was wrong. The anatomy of the animal had caught his interest and he had no other children to play with. What was so wrong with having a hobby? His horrified father dragged Viktor by the ear back home that day, his grip so tight that crescent shaped marks were left behind on the soft skin due to his fingernails.

His father was an awfully conservative man. Everything and everyone had their place in the home and that included Viktor, who just happened to be at the bottom of the food chain because he was the youngest. Viktor does not remember his fathers face very well.

He never liked him.

All meals would start with prayer and would end with his mother and sisters putting away the plates, sometimes with Viktor's aid. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be useful. His father always taught him that he was a man and that men needed to be strong. This is not something you should concern yourself with, his father told him one chilly autumn morning.

This is a woman's duty, said his stone-faced father.

He was around 8 years old when his beatings started.

Despite his young age, Viktor was a very gifted child. He understood that something was off about his family. The way in which his siblings would flinch away once father entered the room, the way mother was always in a hurry to serve him coffee and a hot meal the moment he got back home despite being on her feet all day set him on edge.

He was very sensitive when it came to his mother.

She was his first and only real friend. She was his rock, his hero. Viktor was often sick which caused him to be physically frail and weak. His complexion was always pale as a ghost, his lips always thin and bloody from him gnawing on them and his tiny hands were always covered in cuts and bruises. The eldest brother in particular always just loved to make fun of Viktor when it came to his lack of strength. You can't even break into a sprint!, the cruel boy would taunt him as he held Viktor's book high up in the air, tearing pieces of the pages in the process.

Viktor hated his brother. He loathed him. Religion was not something he was 100% sure he believed in but during evening prayers, Viktor would always put his concentration on the fact that he wished his brother was dead. A grizzly thought indeed.

He wished for him to die the cruelest, most painful death imaginable.

The older he got, his dream only seemed to grow further and further away.

His two sisters never paid any attention to Viktor unless it was absolutely necessary, such as clothing or bathing him. Viktor was not capable of doing many things on his own because he was like a little doll. Frail and easy to break. He lived in a big house in coastal Croatia, an old city known as Dubrovnik, where the summer was long and the sun shined so bright that Viktor never wanted to go outside because his pale skin would turn a disgusting red even with the tiniest of exposure. He would spend his days locked away in his room, reading, studying or maybe playing a game which he had stolen from his brother.

He always took a little pride in the fact that his brother never caught him being so sly.

His sisters would usually be in school in the afternoon or somewhere out and about while his mother took care of the chores. Despite his fathers words, Viktor wanted to help her in any way he could. His heart would melt at the sight of his mother as she would lean down to give him a kiss on his forehead, her tired eyes shining with love. She would never give him tasks which could tire him too much which the young boy silently was thankful for. His favorite chore was chopping up vegetables and meat and in no time, he became quite skilled with using the blade. If it was possible Viktor even started to carve intricate shapes from fruits and vegetables, usually roses because his mother was very keen on them.

She never had the heart to eat any of them.

The outside world was filled with squeals of laughing children, frustrated fishermen and the bustling tides but Viktor did not need that world.

He had his own little bubble which he was more than content with. It was also convenient for him that he was homeschooled, which allowed him to spend even more time with his beloved mother. She was a doctor and a really good one too. Other than teaching him the basics such as reading, writing and mathematics, she would often throw in some more obscure things such as philosophy and anatomy. She taught him about the human body, where each organ was and their purposes.

Viktor was always enamored with this vast sea of knowledge.

The human body is like a machine, his mother would say. Treat it well and it will operate well.

Time passed. Viktor had started to grow and was 11 years old now. He was still sick, still useless according to his father. The man was a renowned fisherman and would always bring home the biggest and best kills. He would take his eldest boy with him and teach him everything he knew, hoping that one day his son would become a master at this craft as well.

Viktor hardly ever went on these trips. The sea was a cruel mistress and weak men could not be near it. His father had barely managed to teach him the basics but the scorching sun and the bustling activity was too much for him. Viktor's skinny little fingers would always be injured from carrying the heavy cargo, which his brother always made sure to make even more difficult for him by giving him even more to carry.

He was a lost cause when it came to fishing, which was his family's main source of income.

No matter, Viktor would think.

He had his own skill sets which those baboons could never understand.

Viktor would hone his skills with the blade in secret, his usual victim for practice being the very fish which were caught earlier that day. Sometimes he would stay up all night and sneak up back into his room at the crack of dawn, his hands smelling horribly which caused his sisters to gag a little if they caught a whiff of the air. Viktor studied the insides of the fishes, taking dutiful notes and hiding them all in the wooden floorboards where nobody could find them. Scattered carcasses of other animals become precious to him as he always had to be swift lest he wished to be caught by someone. Hiding them was always a pain and concealing the smell was the hardest task he could just barely pull off.

Not all secrets can be kept hidden though. Viktor found out that the hard way when his brother caught him dissecting a dead poodle. Viktor fell to his knees and begged his brother to not spill the beans, fat tears caking his face as he hiccuped horribly, his whole body shaking like a leaf. His brother merely looked down at him with a sneer as he shouted for their father to come to the garage. As Viktor heard the approaching footsteps his heart was beating so hard that he was positive that he was going to die of a heart attack right then and there.

His brother was the devil. The exact replica of his father. He was in every way, his son.

Viktor could not walk or talk properly for three months after that incident. He became something akin to a dying houseplant, unmovable and withering away in the darkness. He stopped eating completely and became skinnier than ever. His father locked him in his room but took his books away just to add more salt to the wound. Countless days passed and Viktor was rotting in bed, slowly dying from the lack of sustenance and the massive sorrow which took over his very being. Spring had been long gone and summer was over as well. He didn't even realize that it was October.

It was his birthday.

On October 31st, Viktor was woken up with a soft knock on his wooden door. It was his mother, who was holding a tray filled with food. There was even a little chocolate flavored cupcake with a single candle sticking on top, the whick not quite lit yet. His mother wished him a happy birthday and shared the meal with him. Viktor ate the food quietly, his appetite not quite out there but was still grateful for the miniature feast. His mother took out a small lighter and lit the candle.

Make a wish dear, she said softly.

Viktor gripped his sheets with all of his remaining strength, his knuckles so tight that he almost injured himself. He could feel the delicate touch of his mother who sat next to him, her presence like the calm evening breeze. With a sigh, Viktor closed his eyes but before he could blow out the candle a thought popped into his mind -

Just what was he going to wish for?

He did not see himself making it far in life despite his top notch grades. His family, father in particular, would always drag him down back to the ground. All of the money they had would most likely go to his siblings with just a tiny inheritance left to his name and when his parents both eventually passed the entire estate would go to his brother.

A lump formed in his throat as Viktor came to the realization that he had nothing to live for. He had no one on this Earth other than his mother.

He was no better than a ghost.

However, ghosts could not rest until they fulfilled some sort of quota in their lives, that one last thing for them to do so that they can finally take their final breath and bid their old life goodbye.

That goodbye came in the form of a cough.

It was his father.

His dark eyes stared down at Viktor, a strange glint of determination shining brightly inside them. With his arms crossed and mind set, he spoke:

"The weather may not be ideal but it is advantageous for your.... condition. You will not rot away in the sun, nor in this room like some coward."

His father took a few strides closer towards him, his footsteps so heavy that he could feel the floor creak beneath the heavy pressure. Viktor felt his whole body tense up as he was forced to look his father in the eye, his teeth clenching so tightly that it felt as though his jaw was going to break from the pressure. The only thing that gave him an iota of comfort was the fluffy blanket across his body, its softness a weak shield in stark contrast to the rough man before him. Viktor felt his fathers hand land on his shoulder, his touch disturbingly friendlier than usual.

"You will head out with your brother soon, to the sea. It is time you start pulling your own weight properly. I won't ever allow any son of mine to be weak."

Viktor's eyes widened - Christ, how could this be happening? Why was this happening? Cold terror came over him as he felt his lunch threatening to be spilt all over his parents.

It was soon prevented by a thought. A very devious thought.

On this little excursion it was just going to be him and his brother. All alone, at sea. The only thing keeping watch over them would be the grey stormy clouds high above them.

And just like that, Viktor had hatched a plan.

There was no going back from this moment.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @yandere-wishes, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @connorsui

Ahaha, here it is, the long awaited backstory for my OC, who finally has a full name! I decided to split it into several parts because it was getting kind of long and I really just wanted to post something about this guy. The demand for him is honestly kind of silly... Dare I say overwhelming even.

If you have any criticisms, ideas, complaints, literally anything - I'm all ears! My askbox is always open for a chit chat!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yancore #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere mortician #yandere mortician x reader

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mysacredmuse · 2 months

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request // reader: female anatomy, no further descriptors or pronouns used

cw/tw: nsfw - mdni!, boss form! aventurine, masquerade setting, thigh riding, riding (sort of, eheh), scratching & marking (back, thighs, hips) - did you see his nails? 🤭, squirting, creampie

word count: 1.8k

I hope you enjoy! :)

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

note: unfortunately (spoilers!!) aventurine's boss form isn't some monster sort of a thing so this could be more creative. Even if I were to use a peacock as an inspiration - they don't have a penis (or a pussy), so…. this is written as more of a masquerade type of thing :)

also, please imagine that his pants have some medium zipper (even though they don't) only for the sake of this writing to make sense and for him to be able to keep his outfit on because it's just so cunty :3

• Aventurine • Boss form •

Aventurine and you were invited for a masquerade. As always, his appearance wasn't disappointing one bit - perfectly accenting his figure. A soft curve of his waist and hips made you dizzy the whole night, gaze not leaving his thighs to go unnoticed either.

Your mind was racing with thoughts and as much as you had fun, you couldn't wait to finally be alone with him, enjoying his divine body all by yourself in ways both of you desired.

Even with a mask on, Aventurine knew. He could feel your lustful gaze and with a soft whisper asked you if you wished to leave as he felt the same way as you did. With sparks of excitement you agree, quickly excusing yourselves as you went to a shared private room.

You couldn't really kiss him or vice versa, but it didn't matter. The sight of him alone made your pussy clench around nothing as you strip yourself naked, slowly positioning yourself on top of his thigh. He tilts his head, the mask making it a bit harder for him to predict your moves, but he remains silent, letting you indulge in the ways you wanted to. You slowly lower yourself, hot cunt reaching the cold red stone of his outfit.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you let out a shaky whimper, leisurely starting to move your hips, letting the stone brush over your needy clit. The sensation is odd, cold, firmer, different, yet so good. Aventurine's hands meet your hips as he tilts his head more, still remaining silent. You feel a bit embarrassed about your own neediness, feeling as if he was testing you to see what you would do if he would just let you.

However, the warmth inside your lower tummy and stingy twitches of your cunt make it hard to think about it too much. You gradually speed up the pace of your hips, grinding against the stone and soft fabric of his pants as more tender moans escape your throat. His sharp fingernails dig into your flesh, forcing a sharp whine out of your lungs as your thighs quiver, trying to keep up with the pace you were going at. Your hands wrap around his neck, grip a bit tight as you try to keep yourself balanced, each slide of your pussy over the, now, warm and wet stone sending jolts through your body.

Your hips slowly grow more twitchy as you desperately grind them into his thigh, your leaking precum ruining his pants quite a bit. You speed up your pace, the grip around his neck tightening even more as you throw your head back, broken moans slipping past your lips more and more with each grind. Aventurine leans his head in amusement as your clit starts to pulsate. You focus your grinds mostly on your clit as the wave of heat washes over you, the heaviness in your tummy tingling.

Aventurine slowly slides his hands down to your thighs, using his fingernails to leave agonizingly slow, yet stinging scratches all the way down to your knees. You yelp, sharp breath suddenly leaving your throat, following with a few quieter whimpers as your hips quiver from the marks of his nails. You try to regain your previous pace, desperate for a release, but he swiftly repeats the movement, this time from your knees up to your hips - messing you up again. You tremble, hips tense on top of his thigh as your pussy clenches around nothing, painful sensation mixing in with pleasurable warmth inside your lower tummy.

You swiftly grab on his wrists, holding them in place, earning a small and muffled "oho?" from Aventurine behind the mask as you continue to desperately grind your hips into his thigh, finally regaining your previous pace. You let out shaky moans as your clit slides over the stone, stimulating all of your sweet spots.

A few broken breaths mix between your moans as your tummy tenses up. You slightly narrow your hips, focusing your whole movement solely on your clit as the knot inside your tummy grows heavier. You notice an outline of a hard bulge on Aventurine's pants which sends butterflies through your whole body. Your gaze goes up, enjoying the outlines of his waist as you keep on using his thigh as a personal sex toy.

Your head falls on his chest as your breathing becomes heavier, thighs more shaky with each roll of your hips. A prolonged moan escapes your lungs as a few quick waves of orgasm rush through your body, urging you to move your hips faster as you chase your release. You breathe heavily into Aventurine's soft chest, gasps and hiccups of whimpers slipping past your lips as you narrow your hips just a bit more during your grinds, finally reaching your orgasm.

Aventurine's cock twitches in his pants as you cum all over his thigh, mellow and guttural moans squeezing out of your throat. You release his wrists, hands gripping tightly on his chest, as you lean yourself away from him, riding out your orgasm. Soft jolts and tingles spread through your body as your hips slow down, clit barely sliding over his thigh as you become more sensitive. Your hips fall down, weight fully resting on his thigh as you gently grind them in sloppy circles, dim sounds of enjoyment vibrating in your throat as you release the aftermath of your orgasm out of your body. Aventurine is silent, letting you have a couple of moments to gather yourself.

"It's quite rude to ruin my outfit like that." he finally speaks up behind the mask, teasing voice slightly muffled.

"Especially because you can see how awfully hard I am. Are you ignoring it on purpose? What a naughty thing you are..using me for your pleasure like that." he says slyly, faint playfulness in his voice as he leans his face closer to yours.

You can't see his gaze, but you can feel its intensity, warmth in your tummy quickly turning into hot waves. You gently kiss his mask, silently apologizing as your hands work on his zipper.

You slide his boxers down a bit as you slowly take his cock out, giving his quite hard length a few quick pumps. He lets out a muffled grunt, cock twitching inside your palm. You readjust yourself, aligning the tip of his cock with your overly wet entrance and slowly slide down, squeezing soft moans out of both of your throats.

The way his cock stretches you out makes you remain still on top of him for a moment, unsteady breaths occupying your throat. You finally begin slowly moving up and down, shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you spread your thighs more, purposefully making yourself more sensitive with each mellow bounce. His hands trail up your back, sharp fingernails slightly scratching your skin, earning a soft arch of your back as you continue to go up and down on his cock.

His fingernails keep scratching your back slowly as muffled whimpers escape his throat. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, meeting yours half-way as his fingers fall down to your hips, making more stinging dents in your flesh. You let out a few messy moans as he narrows his hips a bit deeper every time when your clit hits his pelvic area, burying his cock deeper inside of you and reaching the furthest, sensitive spots of yours.

Your head falls back as you sloppily try to keep up the pace of your hips, slightly speeding up to meet his own thrusts more quickly, becoming more eager every time he hits your g-spot. You mindlessly begin grinding your hips into him, needy for as much as he could give you, lightheaded from the quickly built up knot inside your lower tummy.

He leans in, pressing his chest into yours as his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly close to him as his fingernails dig into and scratch your upper back. You can't really move, left at mercy of his relentless thrusts that just keep speeding up more, balls harshly slapping into the underside of your ass.

The room echoes from loud and sharp moans, yours overpowering Aventurine's as his cock keeps sliding over all of your sweet spots. Your head falls between his neck and shoulder, filthy sounds filling up his ear as your pussy tightens and relaxes around him.

A trembling moan is to be heard behind his mask as he slides his hands down, holding you between your thighs and ass, swiftly and slightly lifting you up in the air as he continues to pound into you at a vigorous pace.

He claws into your ass, leaving bruised dents to sting your flesh behind as his cock pulsates inside of you. Your pussy clenches in response as he keeps stimulating all of your sweet spots, making you wrap your arms around his neck tightly as you become lightheaded and hazy. Your whorish moans into his ear edge him closer to his release, hips becoming sloppier, but his thrusts remain firm.

He chokes out a few whines, leaning the side of his head into yours, tickling your skin with the mask. Your hands messily work to take it off, mind desperate to see his face. You somehow manage to throw it on the floor, not really caring if it gets ruined, only to be met with a low, needy gaze of Aventurine.

His eyes become sloppier, irises almost turning into small hearts as you lean closer to him, lips brushing over his. He digs his serrated fingernails into your ass even more as his hips keep up the relentless pace, cock twitching more and more as your pussy squeezes him more.

Your lips mindlessly find his, tongues sliding over each other as greedy moans get muffled by the sloppy kiss. The unbearable heat spreads beneath your skin as he stimulates your g-spot without one single break, building up your upcoming orgasm even more.

He lets out a chain of guttural whimpers, eyes rolling back as his cock pulsates heavily inside of you and with a few more precise and rough thrusts, he finally releases a thick whip of cum inside of you. The twitchiness of his cock stimulates you further, pressure in your tummy releasing at the same time, a stream of orgasm leaking all over his cock.

You gasp into his mouth, lips tensing up as he slides your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it sharply as his hips become unsteady and sloppy, thighs shaking beneath you. Your body trembles as your orgasm sends shivers up your spine, making your muscles weak.

You barely roll your hips on his cock, his cum sliding down your cunt, making you tingle from the sensation. He lets go of your lip, messily grinding his hips into yours as his heavy gaze fixates on you, switching from needy to more darker, lustful one.

You were yet to pay for ruining his outfit even more.

#aventurine x reader smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x yn #aventurine x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader smut #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #female reader #muse's writings

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divine-donna · 16 days

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tell me

instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.

anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.

these are gender neutral, by the way.

part 02

character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)

for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty

moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.

picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.

all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.

you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.

"vincent renzi."

he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.

your smile was warm. "(y/n)."

he became one of your first friends.

university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.

it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.

doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.

it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.

they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.

"why do you still have this?" he asks.

it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.

"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.

"this."

you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.

"because it's mine?"

"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.

"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.

"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."

"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."

"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."

"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."

"you don't even have a tv."

"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."

your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.

he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.

it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.

originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.

when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.

"are they going to meet us there?" you question.

"we'll meet them after." he smiles.

"what is going on in that brain of yours?"

"you'll see."

when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.

vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.

"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.

"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.

"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"

"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."

being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?

nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.

to you, and to him, everything.

you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.

vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.

in truth, he could care less about the movie.

you were his favorite film.

as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.

your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.

"are you watching?"

"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.

"or were you watching me?"

"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."

"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."

silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.

you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.

you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.

"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.

you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.

you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."

"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.

"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."

in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.

graduation came too soon. way too soon.

you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.

it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.

vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.

or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?

"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"

should he tell you?

should he confess?

he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.

it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.

he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.

he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.

i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.

thirteen words. three sentences.

it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.

vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.

"i got accepted into law school."

"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.

your happiness for him was enough.

writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.

the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.

you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.

you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.

unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.

when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.

his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."

"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"

"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.

"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"

"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."

"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."

"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.

"we should talk more. catch up."

"if you're free."

you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."

vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.

he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.

#x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #anatomy of a fall #swann arlaud #vincent renzi #headcanons #fluff #romantic #vincent renzi x reader #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #vincent renzi fanfiction

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

Guide to Surviving the Yan Harbingers.

Play nice with Columbina, but not too nice. There’s a happy medium that she wants you to situate yourself in. On one hand, it would displease her greatly if you were to ever clearly express your distaste. Still, it would ruin her fun if she acted like a totally lifeless doll. She delights herself in seeing the frustration dancing within your eyes. The way that you seethe internally, acting oh so hard to keep it together in the face of such dire circumstances. In a most innocent tone, she’ll ask provocative questions crafted to make you stumble. Isn’t Scaramouche so impossible to please? Dottore an amalgamation of ego that you’re forced to endure? Columbina knows that by phrasing it like an inquiry, social etiquette will urge you to respond in some way, and forces you into a waltz where the tempo is always off. She adores the way you dance for her. Don’t worry, she’ll stop you before you say anything too damning; if you get in trouble with the others, it means she won’t get to see you as often...

Don’t flinch at the cold kiss of metal caressing your skin upon Sandrone’s prompting. She settles for nothing less than perfection when it comes to her work. When it’s her turn to have possession over you, you’ll be invited into a workshop that few if no one else has ever seen; discarded mechanical limbs littering the floor that you must step over. The creations lying within might look familiar, she tells you. And indeed they do. Atop a crudely shaped torso, with frayed wires poking out from what should be the shoulder socket if traditional anatomy was observed, is a head boasting unblinking eyes the same shade as yours. It’s a work in progress — a love letter to her favorite muse. A croaking voice box whirrs to life within the hollow husk, staccato-like syllables stringing together as the machine says it wants to be just like you. Sandrone claims her little project has been begging to feel your skin as of late. You’ll let it, won’t you?

Know that if you reciprocate Signora’s affection in full, you might just get burned. Ice is not always meant to be thawed and she is proof of that. You stoke embers within her that she long thought were locked away by the Tsaritsa’s gift, and in doing so, unwittingly place yourself in danger. Signora knows her accursed physiology well enough to sense this. Hence why she treats you with such biting apathy. You are to sit quietly in her presence so she can retain control over herself. If she’s in a good enough mood, you’ll be allowed to entertain yourself with books or other silent hobbies. Still, despite the precautions, her gaze always ends up drawn to you. She’ll part her lips, considering possibilities too good to be true. Thoughts of having you brush through her hair or humming the music she heard in better days of her life tempt her. When you meet her eyes, her face hardens, and she asks who permitted you to do such a thing. Signora learned from her past that feeding the flames never ends well.

Exercise the utmost obedience with Arlecchino. Her commands are absolute and meant to be followed to the letter, even if they make your life more difficult in the process. She’d rather not acknowledge that the others — underserving as they are — hold any sway over you. To do so would surely stir up strife. She orders you to take off Pantalone’s many adornments in her presence, to scrub your skin raw until Signora’s noisome perfume no longer permeates your skin. This inevitably leads to problems anyway, with you at the unfortunate center. Arlecchino has you traipsing across a tightrope to satisfy her wishes. She firmly believes that you’re wasted on the others. If she had total control over you, she knows she could make not only herself happy, but you as well. In fits of frustration, she’ll tell you that they put so little consideration into your wellbeing. You wonder if she’ll ever examine her own actions with such scrutiny.

Seek out Scaramouche even when he acts like he wants nothing to do with you. It was almost a relief the first time he shooed you away — in your naivety, you thought you’d get a well-deserved break from dealing with these impossible creatures. When you actually went to dismiss yourself, it soured his mood for the rest of the day. No, this isn’t what he wants, you realized as your fingers hovered over the doorknob. He wants you to fight back. Tactfully, of course, it wouldn’t do for you to backtalk openly. It flatters him greatly when you persist in staying with him, despite his persistent prickliness. Say that if it pleases him, you’d love nothing more than to spend just a few more minutes in his presence, should he be gracious enough to the grant privilege. He’ll make a big show of sighing and making it seem as if he’s begrudgingly accepting your request. If you insist, he’ll tell you. You can tell you’ve done well by the grin he’s barely able to suppress.

School your facial expressions in the presence of Dottore, who doesn’t take kindly to any perceived criticism of his dubious morality. While you’re only able to comprehend a fraction of his mad lectures, what he speaks of disturbs and chills you to the bone, keeping you away at night as if someone was holding your eyelids open. However, he doesn’t want another critic. He wants you to be left in awe over his uncontested intellectual prowess. It must make the minds of his cohorts look dull in comparison, he figures. A transcendent mind such as his has got to earn your admiration. Dottore feels you’re his cute little pupil. When you appear confused by the depth of his designs, expect him to cling to your side even longer, he won’t be content until you sufficiently understand. This is more of an excuse to talk to you longer, especially since your attention is always in high demand.

Always wear the gaudy gifts that Pantalone insists on bestowing you. Not only must you pretend to be grateful for the displays of profligacy, but you must act excited too. It's enough to antagonize what few shards of pride you have left to cling to. He’ll clasp necklaces around you that feel tighter than a noose, set crowns on your head so heavy with the burden of their jewels it becomes a struggle to look anywhere but the ground. You’re cursed to feel his presence even in his absence. It’s a bitter reminder that at this point, the only thing you’re missing is a collar. The others share your opinion and are free to voice their dissent while you must bite your tongue almost hard enough to bleed. Signora says something daintier that complements your complexion would be better, whereas Scaramouche longs to rip the ostentatious ornaments from you entirely. Pantalone just chuckles and says it’s your decision. Don’t you like his gifts? Always nod when he asks you this.

Be wary of accepting Childe’s supposed sympathy, for he is just as guilty in your subjugation. The best actor is one who makes you forget you’re watching a play. As a mere member of the audience, it is never your place to express dislike of the script, no matter how much the characters on stage oppress you. Childe sets himself up to be your favorite by playing your advocate. He’s not against your suffering, so long as he gets to be the balm that makes it all better. He affirms the thoughts you hold prisoner in your mind, for if you were to speak them, there’d be hell to pay. Makes jokes about how creepy Sandrone’s predilections are or how impossible it is for you to please Signora. Not him, however, he promises that there’s no need to be so on guard in his presence. It’s so tempting to buy into it. You’d do well to remember he is not the ally he portrays himself to be, he’s every bit of an enemy to your self-interest as the others.

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yanderestarangel · 4 months

Text

anon requested: "Virgin Tomas and virgin reader first time headcanons? Pls"

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୨♡୧ ─ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍!𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 𝐗 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW : ftm reader, afab anatomy, praise, unreviewed, smut, virgin concept, soft!dom tomas, oral (f!re), blood.

♡ - Tomas was a shy man, and unfortunately, so were you... In other words, neither of you two had enough attitude to give in to the carnal desires that threatened to eat you both alive. Tomas, before any sexual contact between the two of you, would masturbate a lot, always thinking about you, just touching your soft thigh was enough to make him extremely hard - to the point of feeling pain in his dick because of the erection in his pants.

♡ - He would be so flushed and red, imagining the dirtiest things with you, how beautiful you would look beneath him, you knew he suffered from being in need of you... Which made you even more shy. You were two virgins with normal young adult insecurities... But each time, each time you touched each other too much in the 'innocent' kissing sessions - it was a mess of soft moans and drunk's - hard cock against your body, whispering how. You were beautiful, how I loved you... Nothing but praise, however, the ninja's sea-colored eyes reflected your hunger and his, the hunger to explore the unknown together.

♡ - Tomas would soon rub his throbbing length against your entrance, both still clothed, but the thin clothing couldn't contain the air of lust already built there. You two looked like two time bombs... About to explode - and the fire was activated by Smoke's words in your ear. "-You love me, don't you? I can't take it anymore, I want you dear.. Fuck you make me so hard."

♡ - He leaned forward once more, placing a tender kiss on your neck before trailing downwards towards your nipples, sucking and nibbling lightly on each one, eliciting tiny moans from you. Meanwhile, his free hand continued its sensual assault on your sensitive areas, probing deeper into your wet folds, circling around your clit, teasing it just enough to keep you on edge but not quite satisfied. "-Tell me if you want me inside you little boy," he growled, his breath hot against your ear, again."-Do you trust me?" Tomas moaned in agreement, his big hands finally reaching under your shorts and panties, feeling the warm, soft flesh of your pussy. His fingers traced slow circles around your entrance, teasing you mercilessly as he enjoyed the sounds of pleasure escaping from your lips. "-Good boy...," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "-Now, spread your legs wider for me." He waited patiently until you complied, watching eagerly as your thighs separated, revealing more of your body for him.

♡ - Smoke would stay between your thighs, smelling the sweet, inexplicable scent of your arousal, tasting your juices as you could feel him grunt and moan softly against your clit, sending waves of pleasure with every flick of his tongue against you. Incoherent words full of desperation for release would be heard by both of them, outside the confines of the room. He would be a trembling mess when he felt you cum on his tongue, he had already cum in his own underwear from the friction of the mattress beneath both of you, apologizing quietly for such an act, begging for the two of you to finally make love, taking each other's virginity once and for all - something you accepted, dizzy and too shaky from the orgasm he had given you with his mouth. Both of your clothes fell around the room, while Vrbada took off his pants and fuck... He was so huge and thick down there, with little white hairs growing in his groin, his cock proud and begging for any part of your body, He stood up and pulsed with each kiss Tomas gave you - he was aware that he was a huge man, who could break you in half, but he had to be patient for you, so he won't demand that you return the favor and suck his dick... Not the first time.

♡ - The sight of Tomas on top of you was breathtaking, he was whimpering in low murmurs, tears were falling down his face, out of joy and pleasure, as he clasped his hand in yours. "-Is this okay, baby? I don't want to hurt you. Let me know if you want me to stop or if you want me to continue." he manages to speak between broken moans, increasing the pace slightly, taking you to heaven and hell at the same time. His dick filled you completely, even if he hadn't even put it all in - "You're such a good boy...", "Oh god... I'm gonna cum soon sweetheart...", "God... you're so beautiful...", "You're going to make me cum so hard..." - These were some of the several phrases he directed at you, his boyfriend. With each thrust, he took you to the rhythm of a second orgasm you had that night, milking his cock with all his might. Tomas holds himself back from cumming, but from the moment you cum it becomes even more beautiful for him... he will scream your name - releasing his load inside your uterus, grunting and shaking, bending down to capture your lips , crying even more after cumming whispering "-I love you, I fucking love you" as he continued to fuck your pussy, even after you had cum, without caring about the blood from your hymen, coming out of you and dirtying your thighs, his hands explored your body - the two of you were going to stay all night exploring each other.

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