Tumgik
#god fucking dammit this man has NO ONE to talk to he has NO ONE to just let him vent and be in his feelings god DAMMIT
piss-stained-jorts · 8 months
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kicking and screaming and crying and pissing and shitting myself if someone doesn't FUCKING validate Simon's feelings RIGHT FUCKING NOW and just let him TALK instead of DISTRACTING him or begging him for HELP I am going to CUT ALL MY HAIR OFF and EAT IT
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hecksupremechips · 14 days
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Persona romance routes are all pretty bad but damn they really hit rock bottom with p3p femc route like the misogyny is very blatant and it’s almost hilarious like look at the Shinjiro romance. When you do his social link he’s like very clearly respectful of Kotone as a leader and explicitly says stuff like "oh yeah you’re clearly the best fighter we have, I don’t really know much about fighting like you do, I hope I’m not dragging you down, you’re doing a good job as leader just remember to take care of yourself, everyone looks up to you I know you can rely on them" etc. like he has faith in her leading abilities. But then when you romance him he’s like got dialogue like "bwah bluh i gotta look after you because you’re a GIRL and you need to stick by me, a big strong MAN so you don’t get hurt" and "don’t wear that revealing outfit in front of other guys 👺" and it’s like. Does he respect her or not and also like it doesn’t make sense for him to look down on her for being a girl cuz he literally has never not been led by a girl leader during his time in sees and Mitsuru in particular really has her shit together when it comes to being responsible and a good fighter and she’s always known the most about Tartarus
It’s also like. Idk maybe its just me I’m not a girl so FUCK IF I KNOW but to me the appeal of romancing Shinji is the fact that he’s sweet and sensitive and gentle and has respect for you despite the fact that he acts all scary. That’s like, what made me like this character in the first place. But the writers seem to think what women want is for a BIG STRONG MAN to protect them because they are just DELICATE WOMEN who are inferior in every way it’s like. Shut upppp thanks
#persona#persona 3#shinjiro aragaki#this is soooooooo obviously not the only romance route that sucks in this game yall know which one im referring to 🤨#and i actually tend to think of the shinji romance as the best one in the series cuz at least his confession scene is the only unique one#that really highlights who he is as a character and goes with the story#but ughh just idk its so annoying how the writers cant decide if hes sexist or not its really weird and its like#really shows how poorly the writers think of women playing their game its like all the romance options are trash and then your boyfriend is#sexist to you and its so clearly done in a way thats supposed to be romantic which is. ew#like idk if my partner was like talking about how i need to stay close to them because im a weak girl and they are strong man#especially when im literally the leader of the team and have been doing perfectly fine thus far and am clearly the strongest here#id simply run him over with a bulldozer#and its like this will all the guys in this game its like girl shut up and eat glass#meanwhile when youre a male protagonist your gf will kiss your ass to the point its infuriating#and their character arcs can never be too grand cuz then they might not wanna fuck you if they realize they have worth#uh sorry my brain is all over the place basically i hate persona romances lol and i hate how they wrote shinji in his#like dammit i dont want him cuz hes gonna protect me like a man i want him cuz he isnt great at fighting and prefers cooking and puppy dogs#and has respect for me and trusts my judgement and asks me to talk about my life and interests and smiles sweetly#but god forbid a woman in this series be respected i guess
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catgirlwarrior · 1 year
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KSTSSJSGXGDUXGNVUSVHXIB
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steddiewithachance · 1 year
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"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
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steventhusiast · 10 months
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modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3
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eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.
and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.
he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.
so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.
luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.
holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.
“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.
“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”
eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.
“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”
he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.
“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”
eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.
“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.
steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.
“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.
“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”
eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.
“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.
probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?
“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”
eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.
and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.
“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.
steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.
“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”
and with that, she leaves the kitchen.
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blughxreader · 10 months
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Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara
cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.
Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.
This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.
I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.
While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.
Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.
Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.
You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.
His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.
However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.
Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.
His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.
God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.
He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.
It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.
Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?
You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.
He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.
While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.
He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.
Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.
He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.
Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.
Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.
But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.
Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.
---
When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.
His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.
With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.
Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.
"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."
He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.
Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."
He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.
Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.
You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.
Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.
He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.
He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.
A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.
"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."
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comatosebunny09 · 8 months
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personal headcanons | leon k.
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genre(s): humor, romance, erotica, modern au warning(s): female reader in mind, language, age gap, self indulgent, fingering, oral, p in v, voice kink, mentions of choking, bodily fluids, dirty talk, pet names, mostly me being a horny spazz for this man, not proofread now playing: funny how time flies - janet jackson
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‣ most of your jokes consist of poking fun at your age difference.
‣ seriously. gen x vs. gen y is strong with this one.
‣ prime example: you give him shit about his car still having a cassette player.
‣ “get with the times, grandpa.”
‣ “fuck off. it’s retro.”
‣ “you’re retro, old man.”
‣ thinks the fact you still watch cartoons is endearing.
‣ but, “what the fuck is adventure time?”
‣ will “back in my day” you until you roll your eyes and scoff, shutting him up with a kiss.
‣ has your back despite how often you call him old.
‣ like you’re not getting up there yourself—your aching back and knees!
‣ goes out of his way to bring you little trinkets and snacks when he goes on missions in other countries.
‣ it eats him up that he can’t divulge the secrets of his profession.
‣ never wants to hide anything from you; you make him want to give you the world.
‣ but he knows he has to keep some secrets to protect you.
‣ you love him nonetheless.
‣ tug on his little heartstrings when you fall asleep on the phone with him.
‣ or when he catches you between sleep and consciousness on the couch when he’s had another late night around the office.
‣ secretly loves whisking you off to bed like some knight in shining armor.
‣ ridiculously gentle despite his imposing figure and calloused hands.
‣ sometimes riddled with those intrusive thoughts of choking you because he knows he could crush you with how small you are compared to him.
‣ not like you’d complain—sometimes, you ask him to lose a little control.
‣ and that scares him shitless because, who made you like this?
‣ despite how badly he wants to show you how much he’s missed you, he lets you sleep.
‣ holds you tight while you sink below the depths of unconsciousness.
‣ because sometimes, letting you go feels like you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke.
‣ but when you awaken before the sun…
‣ oh, it’s on.
‣ because you think you’re so slick, rutting your little ass against him in the wee hours of the morning.
‣ challenge: accepted.
‣ knows what his voice does to you. how the low rumble of it makes you clench and stutter.
‣ and when you rub your thighs together to ward off that fuzzy rush of endorphins between them…
‣ fuck.
‣ “did somebody miss me?” he croons, his stubble coarse in the junction of your shoulder as he litters your neck with kisses and holds your chin in his massive hand.
‣ loves to tease you into submission.
‣ will touch and suckle everywhere except where you want him the most.
‣ and he will do this for hours until you growl for him to “stop being a little shit.”
‣ “thought you were sleepin’, baby.”
‣ plays with your pretty nipples until they’re pebbled and straining against your clothes.
‣ flitters his tongue over them, groaning because you taste and feel so goddamn good.
‣ spreads you open like a flower with long, languid strokes of his fingers.
‣ and the sticky glide of your cunt against his fingertips makes his dick jump.
‣ “makin’ a mess for me already, love? so fuckin’ cute, aren’t you?”
‣ alternates between circling your clit and testing the barrier of your sticky, slutty little pussy hole depending on how your body responds to him.
‣ because when you undulate your hips against him in response, he soaks his joggers with pre-spend.
‣ will make you cum at least thrice on his hand.
‣ and will keep fucking you through your orgasms because, who told you to feel this good?
‣ until you beg him for something more filling.
‣ can give you a solid two rounds in pound-town.
‣ he’s not as young as he used to be, god dammit. cut ‘em some slack.
‣ apologetic if he cums before you, though he makes it his mission to ensure you get yours first.
‣ but will finish you off with his mouth if you so please.
‣ eating you out is his favorite pastime. he gets hard all over again just from being between your legs.
‣ will twine your fingers together and maintain some semblance of eye contact while he unravels you with his mouth.
‣ and will groan into your cunt to let you know how appreciative he is for the meal.
‣ vocal af.
‣ will continue until your thighs clamp down on his face, signaling him to “s-stop. to-too much.”
‣ god forbid he’s in a teasing mood because you’ll have to punch him to get him to stop.
‣ but, you’re irresistible when you beg, and—
‣ fuck. he’s suddenly up for round 3.
‣ aftercare is immaculate.✨
‣ has a hard time keeping up with your energy sometimes.
‣ but will definitely heft you up with one hand as he walks you into the house to kiss you stupid against the wall of your entryway.
‣ will definitely dance on the table with you in his underwear.
‣ and indulges you in your childish requests—pillow fort? he’s down.
‣ content with just existing in your presence.
‣ you’re his vice; his kryptonite.
‣ and he’s hopelessly romantic for you.
‣ because you have him doing all the cliche shit. kissing in the rain. swinging hands on the beach, walking into the sunset. sporadically showing up at your job with flowers and takeout.
‣ grabbing your ass in public to let everyone know that yes, this old man’s hittin’ that.
‣ he’s head over heels for you.
‣ and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
‣ because you make him feel something he thought himself dead to for years.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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silly low effort Vox x reader headcanons —
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Silly headcanons because Vox is one goofy piece of shit. It’s very comical actually. Like if you live together he would come home and literally just bitch and bitch about his day. Even if he actually considered it a good day, that wouldn’t stop him. Sings very loudly in the shower in hopes that you’ll hear him and tell him how great he sounds. No one fishes for compliments like this man. It’s really funny how he does it because he like give you prompts. “Oh yea, this afternoons live broadcast was, or at least I thought, one of the better ones of the week. What about you? What’d you think?” And then he’d hit you with the most insincere smile and blink at you expectantly. I think he’d work best with a reader who doesn’t play into his shit. He needs a reality check to get his ego in order, let’s be real. But definitely not one that’s anything like Val; AKA overly critical and negative. Give him a good amount of praise but not in a yes-man type of way. He already has too many workers like that. Like a good sincere, specific compliment would knock him flat on his ass. I said in a recent shitpost that was super ticklish and I meant it! The back of his head where his wires are and the sides of his stomach are his most sensitive spots. If you spontaneously attack you by tickling him, he’ll literally loose his shit laughing and be so caught off guard. ”Holy shit—hah— stop! Stop it—“ He’d practically seethe through violent giggles. “—y/n—pfft—this isn’t funny!” And then he’d pretend to be all pissed off after you finally stopped, but in reality he liked the attention. He likes to keep his walls up and not be vulnerable but, given the right approach, I don’t think it would be that hard to fluster him. I saw a headcanon where his eyes can make heart shapes and I second this. When you make him blush his screen would just light up brighter and his eyes would turn to hearts. Then he’d be like “God FUCKING dammit! Shut the fuck up, already!” because of how obvious it would be. He’d have to put his hands over his screen and turn away from you. But he’d be very annoyed the whole time which would lead to this comical pissed off blushy rage. He gets really excited about things easily, leading to a bunch of excess energy and he’d probably get really loud too. This doesn’t only happen when you’re watching something he’s really invested in, although that is the more often situation. You could be playing a board game and he’d get unbelievably happy if he was winning. Hell, maybe your just listening, really listening, too one of his ideas for Voxtech. Usually the other vees kinda just go on their phones when he’s like this, maybe even tell him to shut up. Although that probably doesn’t bother him that much, he’d be genuinely taken aback if you listen. He’d probably stop half way through his excited rambling and notice you just looking at him. Tell him how cute he looks I DARE YOU. Que the angry blushing as he hides his screen. He’s also a huge complainer. Like HUGE he’s actually unbareable. He considers himself the least spoiled out of the Vees, and yeah, probably. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t. “Yeah, and the fucking press was all over my ass today about ‘safety’ or some shit. I played it off fantastically as per usual but god, they’re annoying.” ”Yes, Vox. God forbid they bother prince charming over here.” ”Exactly!” I also think he’d want your attention like 24/7 on the clock. Like if you even stop to talk to anyone else he’d probably cross his arms, tap his foot, and just fucking pout. Maybe he’d even sigh dramatically in your direction and check his watch because if you can’t tell, Vox is very high maintenance. All the Vees are in fact. He’d get jealous very easily too if your attention is directed at anyone else. ”Who are you texting? Is that a ‘good friend’ or something? Hm. You only texted me twice today.” I also think that he would like cuddling after a long day like with his screen resting on your chest and watching tv with you. He’d never ask though, so you’d just have to know when to offer.
He also would like it when you rub his back and treat him gently like that. He probably wouldn’t be used to gentle touch. Probably also falls alseep on you a lot.
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a/n — Take these all with a grain of salt BY THE WAY. Because I titled these ‘silly’ headcanons for a reason.
This doesn’t include how terrible he would be (manipulative, selfish, etc) because I just felt like doing something light hearted without angst!
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octoberautumnbox · 5 months
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Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>
Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her
Enjoy
IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader
Word count: 2882
Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough. 
a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa
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Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.
It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did. 
"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."
~~~
You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel. 
~~~
“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.
“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group. 
“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?” 
~~~
Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home. 
As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.
“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.
~~~
You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes. 
“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth. 
You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.” 
You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.
~~~
(smut starts here)
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You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch. 
You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined. 
As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.” 
“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you. 
“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–
She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix. 
“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy. 
She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum. 
You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can. 
You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”
a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome
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bratphilia · 5 months
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── ★ ˙ princess? whore  ̟ !! 
note ✧.*‎  written after copious amounts of convos with rhi about step-dad leon. i live and breathe for stepcest. my world makes no sense and then stepcest is there to guide it back on track. anyways i hope this kickstarts more revil asks especially leon bc i love that man to death.
pairing ✧.*‎‎ leon s. kennedy x reader
cw ✧.*‎‎ reader is of age and in college, step-dad!leon, stepcest, age difference, kinda voyeurism, groping, pussy slapping, squirting, clit rubbing, overstim, mocking, daddy kink, literal wedgie, spanking, multiple orgasms, doggy style, rough sex, name-calling, general degrading
taglist ✧.*‎‎  @kissingrhi @cemeteryry 
synopsis ✧.*‎ your step-dad finds you in your room with a boy's hand up your skirt and decides to teach you a lesson.
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the second leon pulls up in the driveway and sees an unfamiliar car parked in his usual spot, he knows something is wrong. very wrong. so wrong that a shitty feeling settles in the pit of his stomach, causing him to frown. someone in his house when you're supposed to be home alone only spells out trouble. 
so naturally, he goes and investigates. doesn't call your name when he walks in like he usually does. something tells him not to. the door closes quietly. he kicks off his shoes — per your mother's request to keep the floors clean — and pads upstairs. to his surprise, your door is cracked slightly open. it's usually closed. this is weird, and once again, he just gets an icky feeling that something is wrong. 
conveniently, the space between the door and its frame leaves enough room for leon to peer inside without having to open it any wider. and that's where he finds the source of that nasty feeling disturbing him. some boy, who looks to be about your age, has both of his hands under your shirt. from the way the imprint of his hands underneath the fabric looks, he's groping you harshly. no method, just pure lust and hunger. but, like the needy slut leon pegs you for, you're gripping the sheets of your lacy white duvet, moaning quietly. 
"you like that?" the guy asks you, pulling his hands out to pinch a nipple that earns a yelp from you. 
"mhm," you murmur, drawing out an 'ooh' with your mouth in the shape of an 'o.'
god fucking dammit. the way you moan always goes straight to leon's cock. apart of him says to just walk away and leave you alone. that is, until this boy's lips meet your own and his hand glides up one of your spread thighs to reach under your skirt. that's when leon's had enough. no one gets to touch you down there except for him. 
all respect of privacy goes out the window when leon swings the door open so hard it slams into the wall. "get your hands off of her," he says, voice low and threatening.
automatically, your legs snap shut and the guy's arm retracts, looking very fearful of leon. but he has the audacity to ask, "who the fuck are you?"
"who the fuck are you?" leon spits, "in my home, with your hands on my daughter. get out of my house."
the guy sighs, defeated. he turns to you, who's looking quite pale yourself, and says "i'll see you in class."
leon follows the guy out to the hallway, stands over the bannister and watches him close the door behind him. he can feel your eyes on him, and when he turns to face you, they're glossy with tears. "'m sorry, daddy. i can explain—"
but leon's too pissed to hear your whiny excuses. "no. i don't wanna hear it."
he walks over to you. nice and slow to keep you on the edge of suspense as he tells you, "you're a fucking whore, you know that? couldn't wait til daddy came home to get fucked? you had to bring some boytoy in here to do the job for me. and then what? did you expect him to do it better than me?"
"n-no." a tear slips down your cheek. "no, we've just been talking for awhile and—"
he holds a hand up to silence you. "what did i just say? i don't give a fuck about your excuses." 
you sniffle, more tears fall from your eyes. "daddy, 'm sorry. won't do it again, i promise."
he tsks at that. "you're really good at that, you know. repeating one phrase, my dumb little broken record." and then he mocks your voice by going up a few pitches, "daddy, daddy, daddy."
you sob, "stop it..."
leon ignored you and sits back on the bed, rests against your plushie of a duck that's fat enough to be used as a pillow. kiiroitori? who gives a fuck, he doesn't care. you turn around and watch him. spreading his legs to make room for you in the middle, he makes a face that suggests resting there is the most obvious thing in the world and pats the area.
you climb over to the place between his legs with another sniffle and assume correctly that he wants you to lay back against his chest. leon pushes the folds of your skirt up to rest on your tummy, not bothering to take it off and making no moves to take off your panties. he snakes his hand down to your panties. he can't see which one it is — your skirt's in the way, blocking his view — but he gets a feel around it and he can tell which one it is just by the itchy fabric. it's your pretty white, lace thong with flowers embroidered as the pattern. he knows you wear it to impress him even though they're "uncomfy" — in your words. it makes his blood boil to think you wore them for that guy. this asshole who doesn't deserve what leon's doing to you right now.
jealousy gets the better of him. he bunches up your panties and pulls real hard, the fabric getting smushed between your lips in a wedgie. "daddy," you whine desperately, drawing out the word. 
"mhm, keep fuckin' talking," he says like he's bored. you keep whining and he keeps tugging, and eventually it feels good. the burn of the fabric scratching you down there is honestly better than you could imagine. but with one last, long tug, he lets it snap against you, causing you to involuntarily close your legs and fall to your side on his lower abdomen. your reaction is what shocks him.
"does my little girl like it when daddy hurts her cunt? you wanna be abused down there, huh?" he asks with a smile that you unfortunately can't see, but there's delight evident in his voice.
you're breathing heavily through your nose, trying to compose yourself by wriggling back in the center of his legs. impulsively, leon brings his hand down to smack your pussy. you yelp, closing your legs around his hand. but with a strong grip, he situates your legs so they rest on the outside of his, leaving you nice and open for him. he smacks you again, hitting your clit with precision, but mainly just with a large hand that knows the area all to well. 
he smacks you over and over and over. you cry and jolt and whimper with every hit landed onto your poor cunt but he doesn't let up for even a moment. your incessant whining only encourages him more. you can feel your wetness pooling, molding your panties to become one with your pussy.
and then, with a particularly rough hit, you're cumming — no, squirting — through your panties. soaking the fabric, the sheets below you, his hand, and babbling incoherent words such as "oh my god" and "daddy" and "please." he goes harder and increases in speed to induce more of your cum insatiably.
"there you go, there you fuckin' go. just let it all out, yeah? you needy slut," he eggs you on, making you moan and flush at his words alone. 
when you've come down from your high is when leon pulls your panties to the side and begins to circle around your sensitive clit. "daddy," you whimper quietly. "no more. please."
"shut the fuck up," he says calmly. "you wanted to get fucked so badly so i'm giving you what you want, the right way." 
you didn't say anything after that, instead just flush impossibly deeper. he rubs your clit side to side. picks up his pace over time. he wonders if you can squirt again, but cumming for him twice is enough. you're biting your lip while you moan, squeezing your eye shut, shaking your legs. to no avail, there's just no getting away from his hand. you're trapped here, in this absolute mind fuck of a situation. literally. 
you don't end up squirting for him again, but you do cum. he collects the wetness that gathers at your weeping hole and sticks his middle finger in your mouth, sloppy and wet from dipping it inside of you. you taste yourself, that taste leon knows he can't get enough of. he wants to taste you right now, directly from the source, but you don't deserve that right now. for now, you're just a needy slut who tried to fuck some other guy, invited him into your bedroom willingly, almost let his hand up your skirt, and the thought just makes leon seethe, earning just one more slap to your clit. you cry out in surprise, a delicious sound that he basks in; he'll never get tired of it. 
"get up and bend over at the foot of the bed so i can fuck you," he whispers in your ear. on shaky legs, you get up and do what he says. pulling up your skirt isn't necessary as it rides up to give him perfect, easy access. 
he rubs the fat head of his cock up and down your slit. "think you deserve it?" he asks tauntingly.
you only sniffle and push backwards, desperately attempting to slip his cock inside you yourself. "uh-uh. i asked you a question."
"no," you say, sniffling again. "i don't deserve it."
"good girl. exactly what i wanted to hear," he says and slips it in. once he's bottomed out inside of you, he leans down to tuck a strand behind your ear and whisper, "bet you wanted to be taken like a princess on your princess bed, huh? wanted to be his little pillow princess, sitting back while he does all the work. but you deserve to get fucked like a whore by your daddy. i'm the only one who should be fucking you." 
"ohh," you moan, completely at a loss for words. how the fuck do you even respond to that.
with that, he starts thrusting. he doesn't slam into you in fast strokes, but every time he fucks into you he bottoms out. buries into you to the hilt, just how you like it. just like how he rubbed your clit, he eventually picks up the pace. 
the sound of his torso hitting your ass only adds to the noise. the bed rocks, not as violent as the way he's hitting it right now, but enough to creak. there's also the noises of your slick sliding against his dick, swallowing him and elongating every time thrusts back in. you're moaning and whimpering wildly, matching the sounds of his grunts and his dirty talk, muttering almost nonsense. you can pick up the words "slut" and "whore" though.
"tell me you're mine and you'll get to cum," he tells you. 
your face burns in humiliation. "i'm yours, daddy."
"are you going to bring another boy in my house?"
"n-no, won't ever happen again. i — ah — promise."
he nestles himself inside of you, kissing your cervix. rubs your clit nice and fast, side to side just like before. you babble "i'm yours" and "only yours" and "daddy" over and over as if it's a prayer as you cum around his cock. you clench so deliciously. he pulls out and shoots his load on your back. slaps your ass with his dick and then his hand for good measure. 
once you gain composure, you sit up on the bed, pupils dialated, look at him with doe eyes. "'m really sorry, daddy. never meant to hurt you."
"what-the-fuck-ever," he sighs and walks out the room. he needs a beer and smoke.
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uyuuma · 2 months
Text
“ I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M FADED ”
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drunk!gojo x exgf!reader ღ MDNI.
❥ summary. you and your toxic ex, gojo, broke up months ago. yet you find his drunk ass outside your apartment door.
❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, toxic ex, manipulative gojo, dub con, dacryphilia, use of the name 'daddy', alcohol mentioned, tw: toxic relationship dynamic, etc.
❥ a/n. okok this one i thought of while i was bored at work, hope y'all enjoyyyy. i had to resubmit this post bc it got taken down bruh lets hope it doesnt happen again (title was inspired from the song 'spotlight' by lil peep; it is encouraged to listen while reading :3)
❥ wc. 3.2k
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Your life has been rather drama-free ever since you broke up with Satoru Gojo.
After the constant arguments and severe manipulation that he had put you through, you decided enough was enough and you told him to essentially fuck off.
But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't fully over him yet. In fact, life may have been drama-free but it became so boring after that. In some kind of fucked up way, you kind of missed the rollercoaster of emotions he put you through.
That's just how things are you guess, prioritizing your peace over that man was the healthier decision in the long run. You blocked his number and all of his social media as well as ghosting all of your mutuals, like Suguru and Shoko. It was a tough decision but you were tired of them asking about you and Satoru. He's done enough damage to your life already.
It's been radio silence since then, wonderful peace and quiet for two whole months. You found yourself taking up old hobbies again, exercising regularly, and even talking to other men. Life was right back on track and you were on your way to properly healing.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough because he still knew where you lived. You didn't really bank on the fact he would come banging on your door. You believed he would just move on, since he is Satoru Gojo after all. Any woman would be head over heels for the handsome man, even if he was toxic as fuck.
But no, god dammit it all, he is still stuck on you.
Loud banging could be heard on your apartment door. It scared the living daylights out of you when you shot up from beneath your covers. You thought that there was someone trying to break in or perhaps your building manager was trying to alert you to a fire. You immediately rolled out of bed and ran to the door.
That's when you heard that cursed voice.
"Open uppppp!" the voice slurred on the other side.
You groan an exasperated "Noooooo fuckkkk!" under your breath after realizing it's your ex.
"Baby please... I know you're in thereeee" He said in a joking manner.
You open the door a crack, not unhooking the chain lock. "Go away, I told you I never wanted to see you again." You said coldly. Your voice was also a tad raspy, as you had just woken up from a deep slumber.
"Baby don't be like that, let daddy in will you?" He purred through the crack of the door. You could tell he was under the influence of something and it caused you to roll your eyes.
"Fuck no, now leave before I call the cops." You threatened as you went to shut the door.
The door came to a halt with a loud 'THUD'. Satoru grabbed the chain lock with his fist and he held it open before you could shut it. You gasp and jolt back from the audacity that this guy had.
"No no no no no, you're not listening t'me. I wanna talk to you." He said as he tried to pull the chain off the door.
You knew he had the strength to do it too and you didn't feel like replacing it so you annoyedly invited him in.
"Christ, fine but only for a bit! Do you understand me?" You said sharply, unlocking the chain.
"Anything you want, mama." He said grinning, he swiped the door open wide to let his towering frame through the doorway.
You click your tongue in irritation as you quietly close the door behind him. "What do you want, Satoru? It is 3 in the fucking morning!" You whisper yelled.
"Shhhhshhhshh" He spat out at you, putting his long finger against your lips, hushing you. "I just missed you so much, hehe." He found it amusing you were getting angry and it only triggered you more.
"Don't touch me, you're not my boyfriend anymore." You said smacking his hand away from you.
"Says who?" He asks confusedly. He tilts his head to the side.
"Says me!" You said trying not to scream too loud and wake the neighbors.
"Pshhh nah ah!" He says as he smirks. "I say we just forgive each other and move on, huh?" He proposes the idea, with full confidence.
You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Each other? You prick, you're the one that manipulated me and used me! If anything you should be begging me for forgiveness! And you can start by leaving!" Your voice was starting to get louder, but you were beyond infuriated right now.
"What are y'talking about? Don't start with this crazy shit." He said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. He slouched a lot worse than usual, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweats. He was wearing that stupid compression shirt that would always make your head spin when you saw it.
He also reeked of alcohol. It was safe to say that the dude was drunk. It took a lot just to get him tipsy, so for him to be this drunk it must've meant he's been at it all night.
"Look baby, I just came from Sukuna's house party and it made me realized how much I missed youuu." he said, his eyes all glossy.
Oh? So, he decided to crawl back after drinking himself silly at some house party? This guy couldn't get anymore pathetic, you thought to yourself. "You stink of booze, get out of my apartment you bum." You said pointing out the door. "I don't need you ruining my life again."
"C'mon don't be like that princess, you know the only thing I'd ever ruin is your slutty little holes." He said, smirking. He grabbed your chin with his hand and brought you close to his face. You could smell the whiskey still hot on his breath.
You were so beyond done with this. "You're repulsive, do not talk about me like that." All of the emotions you had that you've suppressed came back and all at once. You could feel that all too familiar burning in your eyes and throat.
You went silent and smoothed over your hair with your hand, trying to soothe yourself. Do not let him make you cry again. You took a few deep breaths before continuing.
"Look I know you're fucked up, but you need to call an Uber and leave immediately." You said looking up into his eyes to show how serious you were being.
He just continued to give you this cocky smirk while tuning you out. He just won't fucking listen to you.
"Ok! Well here this shit is again! You never take me seriously! It's like I'm this big fucking joke to you!" You yelled out, letting your emotions start to swell inside your chest.
Tears began to spill from your eyes as months and months of frustrations started to unravel. You looked down and brought your sleeve to wipe your tears. "Well, I won't take it anymore! I-" Suddenly you found that your breath was suddenly snatched from your lungs, after looking back up at him.
Satoru was palming his hard-on while you were sobbing. He was getting off to your tears. The fucking bastard.
"Are you─!" You were cut off by Satoru's moans.
"Fuck, you are so sexy when you get all emotional like that. God, I just want to shut you up with my cock." He said eyes fixated on your face.
"You cannot be serious right now!" You've had enough of his shit, you shoved him, trying to get him out the door.
"Oooh playin' rough with me princess?" He doesn't budge from you trying to push him. "Aww, if only you weren't so weak." He says as he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it up. He yanks your hand above your head and watches you squirm.
He looks thoroughly amused and cracks a smile when you fight back.
"Aw I miss this, us arguing and fighting. It always gets my blood pumping." he said, shoving you to your knees.
You tried to fight where this was inevitably going to end up, but it was no use. Satoru was just too damn strong and too damn convincing.
He hisses as he frees his dick from his sweats. It bobs up and down from the sudden release. Your eyes follow it, mesmerized with how big it was. It's been a few months since you last saw it. You had so many conflicting thoughts racing through your head as you silently knelt on the floor below him.
"Suck." He commanded, holding his tip to your lips. His precum lubricated your soft lips, making you feel sticky already.
You shook your head and used your hands to push away from it using his thighs as leverage. You didn't want to give into him, not after everything.
"No fuck- c'mon baby just open wide." He cooed out to you. Even now he was deciding everything for you. He decided you were going to suck his dick and that's what you were going to do.
It was a struggle between you pushing away and him grabbing your hair and pushing your head down onto his cock. Between his groans in anticipation and your whines in protest, he became increasingly impatient.
"No no no, shhhshhh... that's a good girl." He hiccupped. Satoru successfully got your mouth to take his tip. He grunted and tilted his head back slightly, feeling you slowly but surely take his length.
"Oh fuck, I missed your mouth so much baby." He purred as he parted your hair out of your face.
You closed your eyes in defeat as tears began sliding down your cheeks. He held your head still with one hand gripping on your pony tail and pumped himself in and out of your mouth.
"Fuuuuck, no matter where I looked I couldn't find another girl who satisfied me like you do." He started to invade your throat with his length, making your esophagus become sore and your lungs burn from the lack of air.
You choked on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, as well as down his balls. Your fingernails dug deep into his thighs, trying to either push yourself off or for leverage. One of the two, you didn't know anymore. All you knew was that little warm sensation that built between your legs. Your body was betraying you, you were supposed to hate this man, to not let him abuse you anymore. But fuck, his cock hit all the right places in your tight throat. Your eyes begin to cross as you struggle to breathe.
"Shit, you swallow me so good. Mmm, tell me you want daddy to cum down your throat." He said fucking into your mouth, your lewd slurping sounds were very pleasing to his ears.
You let out a muffled moan in response, obviously you couldn't say anything but that was enough of an answer for him.
"Oh fuck, take my load." he ordered, his abs flexing as he came. He groaned as he painted your throat white with his seed. You could feel the hot, sticky fluid make its way down your throat as you swallowed it all.
More tears fell onto your cheeks. "Hate you, 'toru." you whined out, throat still raw from his dick forcing its way in.
Satoru gave you that cocky smile again and tapped his cock against your cheek as you pouted. "Still harddd." he sang. "Wanna be a doll f'me and get on all fours?" He said wiping the spit off your chin.
You were so disappointed in yourself. This man was forcing himself back into your life and all you could do was watch as it happened. You looked up at him and see that faded look in his eyes. They say that drunk words were sober thoughts, has he been wanting to do this for two months?
Despite everything, you did exactly as he said. You turned around and lowered yourself onto all fours. Truth is, your pussy was aching for him and it had been since you guys broke up. Those men couldn't satisfy you and neither could your dildo, at least not like how Satoru can. Perhaps this whole situation was inevitable.
You pull down your panties and shamefully spread your pussy out for him, showing how you were already wet and ready for him to stretch you out.
"Aww, baby you're already soaked. I haven't even touched you down there yet." He said kneeling down to take a closer look. He took his hand to grip your ass and moved his thumb to swipe a line against your cunt.
You shuddered from the satisfaction of finally being touched where you were aching. You could hear shuffling from behind you and felt a sudden wet, warmth swipe up and down on your clit.
You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth in response to Satoru suddenly eating you out. How polite of him to at least warm you up.
There was something so feral about the way he ate you out. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was sloppily sucking on your clit making your legs shake from the pleasure. He began humming and moaning as his tongue entered you, pumping in and out. His fingernails were digging into the fat of your ass as he spread your cheeks nice and wide for him.
Your arms wanted to give out from under you, but the bastard chose to fuck you on the cold hardwood flooring in the foyer. So you struggled to hold your head up, as if that would protect your dignity.
Satoru parted his mouth from your now slick folds, spit dripping all over your floors. "Mmm, baby I missed tasting you." He said, lust dripping from his voice almost as much as the saliva down his chin. He wiped the drool and slick from his mouth and gave your ass a swift 'SMACK'. You yelped out from the sudden sting.
"You ready baby? This is my favorite part." He cooed into your ear as he rutted his erection against your pussy.
"Yes 'Toru, fuck me please." You whined out. You were already gone, you just wanted the sweet release of the growing knot in your tummy. It was far too late to fight back at this point, all you could think about was him rearranging your guts.
He didn't need to hear any other words of confirmation as he aligned his throbbing cock with your dripping cunt. He pushed the tip in and let a shaky moan out along with a hiss.
"Fuck, always so tight." He groaned while thrusting just the tip in and out of your hole. His hands were still gripping your ass at this time, but he moved his left hand to grip onto your shoulder, lowering you onto his cock.
You let out such sweet moans and whimpers as he watched your pretty cunt swallow him up. He was mesmerized, trying not to cum at the very sight of it. He gave a drawn out sigh in relief from feeling your gummy walls clamp onto him.
He repositioned his large hands to have a strong grip on your waist as he started to thrust in and out of you. It was a slow rhythm at first, nice and sensual like he was trying to massage your insides.
It drove you insane, feeling him drag in and out. He had your back arched, so you folded your arms and laid on them. You scraped the floors with your nails as you felt him start to smack his hips against your ass.
"Mmm... fuck Satoru..." you mewled out, shoulder blades pushing together as your back curved in.
"M'gonna ruin your little pussy." He said making his thrusts rougher. "Gonna punish you for leaving me." He grunted out through clenched teeth. He let out a breathy moan as he leaned over you, slamming his hips flush against your ass.
You let out a sharp squeal as he jackhammered your cervix at this new angle. This squeal pleased him so much that he chuckled and said, "Keep making those cute little sounds."
He caged you beneath him by putting all of his weight on his left arm, holding his hand steadily on the floor by your head. He took his right arm and roughly took your arms from beneath your head. He pinned them both behind your back as he relentlessly pounded into you. This way he could have complete control over your body.
Your face was now met with the cold floor. Your cheek was squished and your mouth agape, drooling from the mind-melting ecstasy. You were starting to see stars, eyes not being able to focus on a single thing. Not that you could see through your tears anyways. You felt your climax approaching rapidly, pussy clenching him uncontrollably.
He started to curse under his breath as his thrusts became more shaky and messy from the pressure. You could tell he was nearing his orgasm too.
"Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." He said, his words coming out super slurred. You couldn't see his expression but you could tell from his voice that he was not only drunk but also pussy-drunk.
Your hands clenched from behind your back and your whole body seized up as you reached your limit. "F-fuck m'gonna cum daddy!" You screeched out, forgetting it was four in the morning. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped. Your whole body spasmed as you felt that sweet release you had been craving for months.
"Oh shit baby-" He cut himself off as he bit down on his lip. He hunched his entire body over you and his hands flew to grip onto your hips. "M'gonna fucking fill you so deep" He whimpered as he slammed your ass tightly against his pelvis. You could feel him twitch against you as that familiar warmth invades your pussy.
His curses are much louder this time around, slurring out profanities as thick ropes of cum coat your walls.
You gave one last whine before completely collapsing under him. "Satoru..." you said softly, very much out of breath.
He was silent for a second, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, leaking hole. He took his thumb and plugged your cunt so that his precious fluids stayed inside.
You squeaked from the feeling and laid on the floor in defeat. Your whole body was spent and you felt as if you could pass out on the floor.
He stood up and lifted his sweats back up. "C'mon princess lets go back to bed." He said kneeling back down to pick you up.
"I hate you, Satoru." You said meekly. You meant it, yet you didn't at the same time.
"Love you too baby." He said picking you up, bridal style.
He carried you to your bed, slipping under the covers with you. He spooned you and rested his face in the crook of your neck.
His scent was intoxicating, cologne mixed with musk and alcohol. Fuck, you really did miss him after all.
Whatever, you'll deal with kicking him out in the morning. Or not. You weren't sure anymore as you drifted back to sleep.
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stvolanis · 3 months
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Can you do a dom reader x sub farleigh fan fic? 🙇‍♀️. I don't really have a backstory for it fleshed out. I was kind of thinking maybe after the karaoke scene the reader confronts him for being bitchy to oliver in front of everyone. (w/ spanking, overstim, possibly mommy kink)
Omg I love this!
Vixen.
(One shot)
PAIRINGS: Sub!Brat!Farleigh Start X Dom!Reader
WARNINGS: I’m aware that the karaoke scene doesn’t happen at his bday party but i put them together anyway!! foul language, pet names, needy!Farleigh, established relationship, mentions of drugs and alcohol
NSFW WARNINGS: mean!Reader, slight humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, mommy kink, brat taming, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, restraint (our boy is tied up), oral (m receiving), cream pies, fluff at the end
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
Ever since Oliver came to live at Saltburn, Farleigh has seemed to make it his personal mission to belittle, taunt, shit talk and ruin Oliver.
You didn’t know what it was, why he was behaving this way, or even what was so wrong with Oliver, because he was nothing but sweet to you.
Always smiling and throwing out random little awkward jokes, making people laugh. He was a little bit quiet, and shy. An awkward scholarship boy, as Farleigh put it. How kind of him.
Tonight’s party was in celebration of Saltburns newest arrival, and apparently Felix’s’ jewel, Oliver. It was his birthday and the crowds of people were here, even though they had the least bit a clue as to who exactly they were even there for.
When the party was over, few people stayed around for a more toned down get together. It was just the family, you, and a few friends lying about having a good time chatting, drinking, and of course, karaoke.
Everyone was taking turns, picking their favorite songs to sing aloud for the group of peoples entertainment. You thought nothing of it when Farleigh told you he wanted to pick a song, yet your mood soured as the song began to play.
It was ‘Rent’ by Pet Shop boys.
You watched as Farleigh tossed the remote to Oliver, exclaiming how it was ‘his song’. Your jaw clenched. “Farleigh, that’s enough.” You said sternly as you peered up at the taller man. He scoffed. “Oh cmon, it’s just a little fun.” He replied with a chuckle.
You clicked your tongue. “No, Farleigh, turn it off! Now!” You yelled at him. The curly haired boy grew frustrated, and embarrassed as he felt the room of people stop and stare at the scene you caused, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Oh my god, you’re fucking overreacting, it’s not that big of a deal!” He yelled back as he flared his arms out. Something in you snapped. After months of seeing him torment Oliver, you’d finally had enough. This was the icing on the cake.
“Dammit, Farleigh! I’ve fucking had it with you! Since Oliver’s been here you’ve been a raging cunt and without even an explanation as to why, and I’m done putting up with it!” You screamed out at him as you roughly grabbed him by his arm, dragging him towards the door.
His mouth was hung agape as you drug him out of the room, eyes following the both of you as you made your grand, oh so dramatic exit. He felt utterly humiliated at the way you talked to him in front of everyone, yet he couldn’t ignore the way his cock stirred in his slacks.
You threw him into your shared bedroom and locked the door shut. “Take off your pants and bend over.” You told him. He gulped, your tone of voice sounding too serious not to listen as he stripped himself of his slacks and boxers, bending over the bed.
You tied your hair up with a rubber band around your wrist and watched as Farleigh gripped the sheets beneath him, bracing himself for whatever was to come next. He jolted forward with a gasp as he felt your palm meet the flesh of his ass harshly.
Once, twice, then suddenly he lost count. By the time you were done, his ass felt raw and your hand print was red and visible. He had tears running down his cheek, yet his cock was oh so painfully hard against his lower stomach. He ached to be touched in any way you’d allow.
“Been such a fuckin’ brat since Ollie came. If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just said that, honey.” You chuckled out as you turned him over onto his back, instructing him to scoot further up the bed. “M’sorry, mommy, please—“ he begged, not even knowing what for.
“Shut your whore mouth, Farleigh.” You scolded as you perched yourself on his lower stomach, your clothed cunt sitting taut on his hard cock, making him let out a needy whimper. You leaned over to your night stand, digging through a drawer before pulling out a pair of pink rope.
You gripped Farleighs wrists with one of your hands and held them up to the head board, securely tying them. “Been such a bad boy, needa fix that for you.” You breathed against his lips. He leaned up, desperately trying to kiss you, but you pushed his head back down onto the pillow.
“Only good boys get kisses.” You whimpered against his ear as your body trailed down till your face was eye level with his cock and your back was arched in the air, displaying your ass that you knew Farleigh wanted to taint.
You took his tip into your mouth, sucking teasingly before smearing the pre-cum around with your thumb. His hips wiggled and his eyes were blown out with lust as he stared down at you through hooded eyes, watching as you began to take all of him in your mouth.
You gagged and gurgled around him, taking him so deep, his cock hitting the back of your throat. His moans filled your ears, and his hands clamped around his restrains, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you used one of your hands to play with his heavy balls.
“Mommy! Oh god—so good, so fuckin good.” He whimpered out as drool poured at the corner of his mouth, his mouth hung agape for too long. You released him from your mouth with a pop, using your other free hand to fist his cock tightly at a fast pace. “Yeah? Like mommy’s mouth oh your pretty cock?” You giggled out as your mouth trailed down to his balls.
You suckled one into your mouth, and Farleigh came with a loud moan, his head thrown back and his back arching off of the bed. The scene before you was straight out of a porno, and he looked so helpless and pretty when his cum spurted everywhere.
All over your face, on the bed sheets and his stomach. “Messy, messy boy, Farleigh.” You said as you shook your head. He was breathless, no words able to form as he watched you strip yourself of those god ridden clothes he wanted to rip off of you.
You glided your pussy along his still rock hard cock, letting your juices spread. You bit your lip at the stimulation on your sensitive bud. “Need you. Need your pussy, mommy, please? I’ll be a good boy, I swear—“ he babbled on, his words nearly slurring together to form what you presumed were sentences.
You laughed at the man who lied underneath you, a whimpering, needy mess. So desperate for you. So ready and willing to take anything you’ll give him. “I know, handsome, I know.” You shushed him as you finally planted a soft kiss to his trembling lips.
You lined him to your entrance, not giving him a chance to think as you slammed yourself down onto him. His cock kissed your cervix, and it felt like he was in your womb. “Such a big cock, all for me? My big boy.” You groaned out as you moved your hips in a circular motion on his cock, rubbing against your walls blissfully.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he nodded, his brain pussy drunk on you. “Mhm, yes, yes-“ he continued on. You bit your lip, holding back your moans as you watched him unravel beneath you.
But god, did his cock feel like heaven inside of you. You felt so unbelievably full, and all you could focus on was chasing your high—but Farleigh seemed to already be two seconds away from cunning again. You could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside of you, and his balls tightened.
“Mommy, m’gonna cum, gonna cum inside of you. Gonna fill you, mommy.” He whimpered brainlessly as his hips slammed up into you as you slammed down onto him, the both of you forming a rhythmic pace. “Cmon, slut, fill me with your cum. Now.” You groaned out as you leaned down to capture his lips with yours.
He moaned into your mouth, tongues swirling together as his cum shot into you, leaking a little bit as you sat on his cock, making sure he got all of it in you. You sucked his lip into your mouth, releasing it with a little nibble and a cunning smile.
“Good boy, Farleigh. Mommy’s good boy.” You cooed at him. He lazily smiled up at you. “Good boy, m’a good boy..” he mumbled on. His eyes widened as you continued to fuck yourself onto him.
His cock was so, so sensitive. The way your walls squeezed around him, and your cervix kissing his aching tip each time he entered you was too much for him. Your pussy was milking him, and all he could sit there and do was take it. But seeing you bouncing up and down on top of him, tits bouncing with you, made it worth it.
To him, you looked utterly enchanting. The way you finally let your moans run lose, your hair coming undone from your ponytail. Your skin was sweaty and your face was red. He wanted to touch you so badly. He wanted to hold your waist and rut himself into you, even thought his cock was overused.
But now, you were using him for your pleasure. “So fucking good f’me, Farleigh. Makin’ me feel so good.” You moaned out as you threw your head back. Your praise of him making you feel good circled around in his mind, and that was all he wanted. Your approval. Knowing he was the only one who got to make you feel like this. And knowing only person who could see you like this was him—had him cumming for a third time inside of you.
Each time you slammed down onto him, your clit was met with his cute happy trail, and that was enough to send you into overdrive as you squirted all over the boy under you. Your juices made a mess of him, but you didn’t care. You bounced up and down on him a few more times, riding out your orgasm.
As you slowly came down from your high, you admired the way Farleigh looked. Still so, so beautiful. The handsomest boy you’d ever seen. Even when he was a brat, he still took care of you and loved you dearly. Your darling boy.
“Let’s take a bath, hm?” You suggested as you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. He nodded, and you untied the restraints. His hands immediately slithered around your waist, pulling you to lay down onto his chest. “Was I too rough, honey?” You asked as you peered up at him.
He shook his head. “No, you were perfect.” He whispered.
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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penelopepine · 10 days
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Don't be a stranger!
Part 1 Part 2
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
Summary:
“Coming! Just one moment!” The voice calls out. Simon is quick to adjust his stance trying to make himself appear less intimidating as he could before the door is suddenly swung open. 
That was when he saw you. 
-
Returning to his flat was never easy for Simon; it was always dark, cold, and empty. It was harder to distract himself while he was here than it was back at the base where there was always something that needed to be done.
The one good thing about this place was that the neighbors were generally alright when he was here.  No one was ever being especially loud; allowing Simon to silently drown himself in whiskey and sorrow. 
Which is why he was confused when the neighbor to the right of him couldn’t seem to stop causing a ruckus. The whole morning has been filled with muffled curses and the sounds of things being dragged about. 
He vaguely starts to recall talk of that flat being open soon. This must be the new guy then; from the sounds of it they just moved in within the last few days. 
Damn his leave couldn’t have fallen just a week later when they were already settled in?
Simon tried to ignore them he really did, but there are only so many times one can hear an exasperated “god dammit” through the walls followed by an annoying screeching or banging sound. If something needed to be moved he'd move it himself and put everyone out of their misery. 
Which is why he was here now standing in front of his neighbor’s door. He had confidently stormed out of his flat, but now that he was standing in front of yours he admittedly wasn’t sure if he should knock or not. He didn’t want to, but at the same time your noise level was starting to grate on him. 
After a few minutes of silence from the flat he was about to turn around and leave them be. 
“Fuck!” A feminine voice calls out from behind the door. 
“Never mind” Simon thinks to himself, and knocks on the door. f
“Coming! Just one moment!” The voice calls out. Simon is quick to adjust his stance trying to make himself appear less intimidating as he could before the door is suddenly swung open. 
That was when he saw you. 
You took his breath away. Standing there face slightly red and clearly still in your pajamas; you looked beautiful.
“Hello…?” 
Right. He was here to see why you had been making so much noise all morning; not to just look at you. Even if that is all he wanted to do now. “Is there anything you need help with? I’ve been hearing you all morning.” Simon clears his throat, “I’m your next door neighbor.”
The red in your face only continues to grow the more he talks. “Oh! I'm so sorry- I just moved in and I’m trying to organize everything! I didn’t realize you could hear me.” You also tell him your name. He feels as if he could listen to you talk for hours. 
“I’m…I’m Simon, and it’s no worries. This building is old and the walls aren’t the thickest; I can try and help though with whatever is causing you so much trouble.” 
“I couldn’t ask that of you; I’ll quiet down-.”
“It’s no problem.” 
You seem hesitant to accept his help; which looking at the situation makes a lot of sense. Here is a strange man essentially asking to be let into your place. Simon clears his throat and continues, “I’m the door to the right,” tilting his head towards his own door, “Feel free to knock if you change your mind.” Simon then turns and begins to walk away not wanting you to think he’s some kind of creep. 
“Wait!” You call out to him, “If it’s really alright, I could use some help moving some things.” 
“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t alright.” 
With that you open the door to let him inside, “Uh welcome in then; don’t mind the mess I’m still in moving chaos mode.” 
Stepping inside your flat layout seemed to match his perfectly. Your living room was filled with half opened boxes. Simon tried to give you a reassuring smile, “Just tell me what you need me to do, love.” 
Before he knew it he had unintentionally spent most of the day with you. Which unfortunately led him standing where he once stood merely hours ago now saying goodbye.
“Don’t be a stranger!” You say smiling up at him before finally closing the door. Leaving Simon standing in the hallway wishing that he didn’t have to leave. 
-
It’s crazy to Simon how something as simply knocking on your door can lead to this. After the day he helped you settle into your flat it seemed like the two of you were doing everything together; even unintentional things. 
First, he had just stepped out his door planning to go on his usual morning walk. Which of course as soon as he had stepped out of the building there you were. Standing on the sidewalk messing with your bag. Simon had debated if he should say anything to you, or simply continue as he was. That choice was quickly taken from him though when you had looked up and saw him. The smile that bloomed on your face was all it took to draw himself to your side. 
“Simon! It’s good to see you; what are you doing?” 
“I could ask you the same; I’m just going on a walk.” Should he ask you to join him?
“Sounds better than what I’m doing, on my way to work right now myself.” You gesture with your left hand down the street. Assumingly in the direction of the way you're going. 
Simon had to decide here and now what to do. He himself usually walks the same direction as you. He can simply say goodby right now and walk in the opposite direction, or he can take a chance. “I’m going the same way. We can walk together if you want.” 
“I’d like that!” That smile you give him is making Simon think he’s slowly losing his mind. 
Of course this event led to Simon walking you to work every morning. Enjoying the calm air and each other's company. 
Next, after a few days of walking you to work, you had invited him over for dinner.
“You’ve helped me so much with my flat it’s the least I could do.” 
“You don’t have to repay me for that love.” In all honesty he would love to have you make him a home cooked meal, but it worried him how much he was already enjoying your company. Simon was scared to get any closer to you. He couldn’t say no though when listening to you ask so nicely for his presence. 
One meal turned into two, then three. Until finally you and Simon were having dinner together every couple days. 
He had to admit that things were moving fast when it came to you, but at the same time he didn’t feel as if he was drowning with you. It feels strangely natural to be around you.
Having you here made it easier for him to pretend that all was good; that you were his. For the first time in a long time coming home didn’t have to mean being alone anymore. It’s a shame that he’s leaving in just a few weeks.
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lifeisveryoverrated · 2 months
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You ever think about how if one day everyone's just chilling on the deck and Luffy calls Sanji as a girl? Something like 'Sanji's great! She makes the best food!' and everyone just thinks it's one of those Luffy things and eventually make a joke out of it. They talk to Sanji as of a girl. Eventually, Lusan happens. Luffy still calls Sanji as a girl 'I love my girlfriend!' and then Zosan happens so technically Zolusan happens and even Zoro's like 'Yeah, she's my wife, fuck off'.
Nami and Usopp think it's so funny when Luffy and Zoro do that because, come on, calling Sanji, the womanizer, a woman? But... guess what? Sanuso time! Yeah baby, Sanuso happens too! Usopp dosen't find the 'calling Sanji a girl' joke funny anymore so he starts calling Sanji a 'he' again.
Usopp also notices that even though Sanji, Zoro and Luffy are the ones who fight the most, they're the ones who Sanji seems to be most happy around, even if they still call him a girl? Usopp's got a theory. He will test out that theory. He again stirs calling Sanji a girl. 'Sanji, my beautiful princess, do you know how the brave captain Usopp-' and... it works! Sanji's happy with Usopp now too. Usopp's happy that Sanji's happy with him.
You know how Chopper always goes all mushy dancy when someone compliments him? That's how I expect Sanji to get when called a girl too.
'She's the best!! She's cooking me so many delicious food and giving me extra meat too!!'
'She's letting me stay in her kitchen for once! I cam draw there now!'
'She's the hottest person ever to be honest. Got a nice ass too.'
'Oh~ you think I'm a princess?? Your princess! And your wife, and your girlfriend! I hate all of you! I'm a man god dammit!' but still is blushing and so so happy, but Sanji dosen't quite know why.
'She's hot. Rally hot. She cooks my favorite meals for me. And she's got a nice ass.'
Nami still finds this funny. She thinks the boys are just playing with Sanji by calling him a girl. So one day when Sanji's not on the ship to go get groceries or something, Nami asks them how it's like dating Sanji.
'So, how's Sanji?' and they all answer
'She's the best!! She's giving me delicious food and extra meat!!'
'She's letting me stay in her kitchen! She even let me look at both of her eyes to draw her!'
'She's hot. She cooks for me. She helps me train. She s got a nice ass. She's pretty'
Nami's confused. 'You all know Sanji's a man, right?' Now the three are confused because has she still not figured out that Sanji's their wife now? Their pretty little princess? Their amazing girlfriend? Nami finally realizes and then... 'Oh.'
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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months
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hi its cait/enchantecafe🫶🏻 i saw u wanted poly mark and seb ideas?? imagine them wanting to date the same girl in their red bull days. they meet her at the same time and both ask her out but she can’t choose who to go out with so she agrees to go on a date with both. at first it’s not poly, she planned on going out with each a few times and then continuing to date the one she liked more. but she can’t choose and after telling them how she feels, they agree that neither of them wants to give her up either, so they come to an agreement. at first they’re kind of just dating her at the same time but because they already spend all their time together as teammates she’s just hanging out in their garages with both of them and somehow they end up going on three way dates and celebrating races together. there’s still a rivalry there that she has to deal with sometimes like. imagine poly mark and seb when multi 21 happens ?? omfg. the mess!!
A/N: kjsdfas.fs;hd.fasm I don't blame reader because I could NEVER pick between them tbh! But, I through this together and took bits and pieces hope you love this! also love your blog and writing
"I'm sorry, what?" Mark blurts as you flinch a little bit, picking at your jeans. Sebastian sat right beside him, legs sprawled out as he keeps his eyes closed, the bright blonde hair making your eyes hurt looking at it.
"Mark, please just understand." You beg him but Mark just scuffs trying to understand this. "Calm down, Markie." Sebastian teases and the older man rolls his eyes and you see the anger slowly leave his body.
"So you want both of us hm? So needy for the both of us?" Sebastian mummers and leans forward, tongue poking out. "Leave her alone, just because she has fallen for you, doesn't mean I won't let you have her." Mark snaps, refusing to let Sebastian tease you like this in front of him. "Boys, stop." You beg, hating it when they fight.
"I'm telling you both this because I love you both and I can't pick. I can't okay." You breath finally feeling at peace for getting those words out. Sebastian stops, eyes narrowing just slightly before going back to normal. "Both of us?" Mark repeats unsure how to take this. "Yes, the both of you." You repeat.
"Okay," Yours and Mark's head whip toward Sebastian who looks so relaxed, like this was a normal conversation about the weather. "Seriously?" Mark sputters shocked by how unbothered Sebastian was with this. Sebastian hated to share, he should know.
"Sharing her, with you? I'm perfectly fine with. Besides I notice the way you stare at me from time to time. Tell me you don't," "Okay," Mark stands fast and laughs, rubbing his forehead. "Fine, fine, we can do this." Mark whispers and leans over kissing your cheek.
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March 24th, 2013
"Please, be careful. Both of you," You smile pulling Sebastian in by his belt. It's been 2 years since that talk with them, and here you are kissing them both before the race starts. "We will be darling," Mark whispers kissing you gently and before placing a quick kiss with Sebastian.
"See you at the finish line," Seb jokes and Mark chuckles giving him another quick kiss. "Be nice!" You yell as they get into their cars and you head into the garage.
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"Please, don't do this." You whisper, as you hear the radio to Sebastian. "Seb, Multi 21, follow it." The engineer begs, but Seb doesn't say anything as he overtakes Mark. "God dammit, Seb." You curse and throw off your headphones. "Fucking shit," You knew this wasn't going to go overwell.
You couldn't watch the rest of the race, you couldn't even look at the podium as you went straight to Mark. You could see the defeat, anger, hopelessness and betrayal written all over him. "Mark!" He turns and you can see the tears fill his eyes as you rush to his side.
Those arms bring you comfort as he hides his face into your neck and tears fall down. "Why? Why would he do that? To me?" He cries as you two move to hide away from prying eyes. "Shhh, it'll be okay baby. I've got you." The anger you felt for Mark was raging inside. More so when you hear cheers.
"What? No congratulations?" Sebastian laughs, holding the tropy and you turn eyes furious which has Seb flinching. "No, Seb. No congratulations. I can't believe you! How DARE YOU!" You snap, Mark pulls you back still crying softly. "Leave Sebastian," You snap pulling Mark back into you as you try to comfort him.
"Y/n, Mark, plea-" "LEAVE!" You roar, watching as Sebastian back steps and runs off, leaving you to pick up the pieces.
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