#guys i try so hard to be normal how the fuck are people noticing

[kickis-conan-king]

I like to think that in a modern au, if Keith had any kind of social media, it would be a little bit like one of those accounts where you go “is this guy just really committed to the bit or is he just Like That?” Like his instagram account would be full of nothing but reels where he sets the phone camera down after staring silently into it, walks far enough away that his whole body is in shot and does like, ten backflips before the video just abruptly ends with him still in motion. Another video where he walks around town with a ton of little throwing knives and it’s just a montage of footage of him lodging them into billboards and signs and other random hard to reach places. A lot of his videos are taken in the dark at indiscernible locations with nothing but the flash too bright and distorting his face, his eyes flashing like a raccoons in the brightness, and those videos are the rare times he speaks in his vids but it’s always something like “if life has to include suffering then how come it’s minor shit. I’d rather be miserable in a big way that is kinda badass then go through one more awkward conversation with a barista.” His most normal videos are of his dog just zooming around (no commentary or caption) and just. Footage of his legs dangling from absurdly high places with beautiful views.

Lance just randomly comes across his account while scrolling through his Instagrams suggested reels and immediately becomes OBSESSED with xxjustkeith.xx4510fu. At first Lance thinks it’s a meme account, some kind of bit but then the more he watches the less sure he is. He kinda can’t believe someone That good looking would make anything other then thirst content. He spends hours scrolling the account. He starts to wonder if maybe this guy is a serial killer or something. Then he notices in one of the videos that…hang on…he recognizes that place. And that too. And holY SHIT they totally live in the same town!!! So under one of the videos he comments something obscure but that is undeniably From Their Town, basically calling this guy out on where he lives without doxxing him.

Keith immediately dms him like. Who the fuck are you and what do you want. Lance is like teehee hi uh. I think you’re insane 🥰🤪😉. And Keith is like meet me at x spot at x time for a fistfight. And Lance is like hell yeah brother, writes his last will and testament (a text to hunk) and goes to meet this unhinged hottie who literally said they were going to fight. So they meet up and like. Keith is how he is, kind of mostly just awkward and shy with an inclination for feral hobbies and knuckle first thinking and Lance is how he is all chatter and bravado and challenges and charm and so. The do spar a little bit but once they’re both breathless they just go get coffee and talk.

And after that in all of Keith’s videos there are snippets of someone chattering in the background, tan legs dangling just out of frame, a dude who does backflips with him, someone cheering or whining saying “let me try 😞 Keith hey. Let me try.” When he walks around throwing knives. A dude who is otherwise not mentioned anywhere or tagged in anything.

All the people who are fans of Keith account for its adventurous and surreal humor start speculating in the comments. Eventually Keith gets fed up and posts a video reply to the comments.

It’s in selfie mode. It a beautiful day, and him and Lance are side by side. Wherever they’re sitting it’s up high. A breeze ruffles their hair. Keith looks straight into the camera and says completely monotone. “This is Lance. He’s my boyfriend.” Lances silent shock gets cut off by the video ending (he did not know they were dating.)

#klance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #voltron #fic inspo #fic drabble #klance fic #kinda #headcanon #Keith headcanon #modern au #social media au #idk what this is really but where else was I supposed to put it #anyways strange and off putting Keith you will always be a star to me

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i still can't get over my roommate implying i was autistic and my friend pulling out her phone to show me the "i'm like if a beautiful woman was an autistic little boy" meme that she'd been saving for the occasion someone acknowledged it

#HELLO #guys i try so hard to be normal how the fuck are people noticing #ALSO WHY ARE THEY ACKNOWLEDGING IT #my other friend who is actually diagnosed with autism is also such a little bitch about this #if i flinch at noises or say something a lil too blunt he pulls me aside and goes 'are u having a tism moment' cause he's terminally online #just the audacity of people to point out that ur being weird when ur being weird. HELLO RUDE #my roommate and i had a long convo about this because she's Implied this multiple times #and the first time she said it in front of people. after we went home i was like 'do u really think im autistic' #and she went 'well you know i think it's a spectrum and you're def on it but also i know lots of autistic people who have happy lives!' #and girl what the FUCK. why are u so comfortable talking to me like that #i just got very very agitated because someone's phone was ringing for a whole fucking min and they were just ignoring it. what's WRONG WITH #HER. and im allowed to have sensory issues without it being autism ok shut the fuck up #anyways. i truly don't know how im supposed to react if someone says something like this. because a. im not diagnosed #b. people are far too comfortable armchair diagnosing me. like im not Trying to be different from what's socially acceptable leave me alone #c. but i also don't want to make a big deal about it because they're just jokign around but also the joke is that im constantly weird #can someone tell me how im supposed to react to this #honestly im kinda scared to post this on the autism website. #please don't be too mean to me

[craycraybluejay]

You know how a pretty obvious majority of kinksters are submissives? You want to know a big part of the reason why it's hard to find a dom that's into the same hard kink you are?

Ask a hardcore masochist what they think of being whipped.

Then ask a hard sadist what they think of whipping someone.

Do you notice that the sadist/dom will often either dance around an answer or try to use soothing language/euphemism not unlike the way how in many places people are still expected to discuss sex if at all. Gentle, calculated language.

The issue is, especially with a new surge of purity culture overtaking so-called "leftist" online circles, is that fantasy becomes a moral judgement.

Sub with a noncon kink: "I want to be raped" (cnc but like. People can talk ab it how they want don't cancel me fr.)

Response from Normies: "well that's weird and kinda dark but ok"

Dom with a noncon kink: "I want to rape"

Response from Normies: "I'm calling the police and you should kys and you're also a sexual abuser and even though you haven't said anything about kids you're also also a pedophile :)"

Not only does the attitude of murderous hatred against doms/tops with hard kinks/fetishes/paraphilias make it difficult for them to practice those kinks (safely and ethically) out of fear of social backlash if it's ever found out even if both they and their partner[s] had a great time and are fine-- but, it actively puts innocent people in danger by equating thoughts and attractions of ANY KIND to the act of hurting others against their will. It equates fantasy, which can oftentimes be played out safely if in a modified way with real harmful actions.

Also, kink is still illegal in many places, so don't "its illegal" me about harder kinks. Law is not morality, none of us are free until all of us are free, etc. You get the gist.

You want to see more doms? Meet someone who can indulge your "scary badwrong" sexy feelings? Then maybe don't actively promote a culture where you put ANY kind of attraction or kink under fire. It doesn't matter if it'd be unethical to act out in real life. Some of the most common kinks worldwide are unethical as fuck to act out irl, including rape. That's why we have cnc, come on, guys.

You know what? In fact, you SHOULD actively shun people who shame others for their sexual feelings. EVEN if you think it's gross. EVEN if it wouldn't be ethical to act on irl. Let these types know that their puritan ideals are NOT accepted here. Let them know that if they want to go to church they can do that but not in your space, not forcing other (non consenting!) people to listen to their hateful and repressive ideology.

Like, hey, I'm not into ABDL, for example. But I will defend to the death other people's right to be into that. To think and feel whatever they think and feel. You think diapers are sexy? Great! I don't personally see the appeal, but you do you boo. There is no Correct Way to be sex/kink negative. Either you believe in thought crime or you don't.

And yes, this post includes "harmful" paraphilias (I put it in quotes because they're only harmful if acted on), sadomasochism, mutilation fetishism, etc etc. Every "gross" or "evil" kink, fetish, para you can possibly imagine. The stuff that makes you horny is just stuff that makes you horny, and being horny is normal. Being "weird horny" is also normal. No one deserves to experience shame, let alone public harassment or hate over feelings they most of the time don't Choose to have. Be mindful of puritan rhetoric and strike it down when you see it.

#important #psa #hard kink #nsft topic #pro para #pro kink #the 'dom shortage' #obv there are other factors but this is just a connection I'm pointing out #purity culture #purity wank #puritans #sex and sexuality #tw r@pe mention #p3d0 panic/the trend of calling everyone you don't like a p43d0phi13 despite that that's as i said before #NOT the same thing as csa or ANYTHING like that and simply an experienced attraction #attraction is not r@pe; foot fetishists r not going to randomly hump ur foot and same w ever other kink #thought crime #puritanism #the purity culture wave #discourse #except if you disagree pls block me this is a pro kink blog forever and ever #thoughts are thoughts #anti para people scare me bc if u think someone cant help but have sex with someone/something theyre attracted to... #what EXACTLY are you going to do if someone romantically rejects you???????????? #turning the argument around here. if this is your belief then i do not trust you around me and my loved ones #because if attraction is action then i am scared for the people you are attracted to #because it isn't. and the fact that you think it is says more about you than anyone you hate for their attractions

[girlwithalotoffeelings]

18+ MDNI

I cant stop thinking about Eren being desperate for you 24/7...

This man is so whipped for you, its actually comical.

He's constantly asking if he can put his dick in you for a little bit. He doesn't even care if you guys are actually fucking he just likes the intimacy.

He gives absolutely zero fucks about what you two are doing or where you are.

"Baby, let me stuff your pussy while you do your make-up please?"

"Come sit on my cock while I play this game."

Like just imagine...

You're on your bed laying on your stomach just minding your business, trying to take a nap, when you hear him come in. There's a few moments of silence until you feel him strip your yoga pants and panties down to rest under the swell of your ass. In your half asleep dreamy haze you feel him spread your ass open wide which makes you stir

"Shhh, just go back to sleep." You feel him stroke your hair lovingly and slip two fingers into your waiting cunt. You whine and whimper as you grow needier. A quiet whisper "Fuckkkk yesss" can be heard as his long and thick veiny cock sinks into you so deep making you feel so amazingly full as usual.

Don't even get me started on how he gets so horny for you doing mundane tasks

"Lift your skirt for me, please." Missing the questioning tone and sounding more like a demand.

"WE'RE IN A FUCKING GROCERY STORE!"

"So? No one's gonna see, I promise." You didn't even get a chance to reply before he has your skirt in hand. Pulling your panties to the side and thrusting himself violently inside you, bottoming out. You choke out a gasp at being fully impaled on him so suddenly. He kisses your temple when he hears you hiss and whimper as tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch with no prep. You shiver as you hear him mumble a soft "Such a good little whore for me," with a sigh of content in your ear. He starts moving in and out of you slowly, only stopping when another person walks into the aisle.

He let's your skirt hang around you as normally as possible, while he goes in as deep as he can and stills. Grabbing something off the shelves and putting in infront of you as if you both were reading the label. His jacket covering both your sides from view while the cart blocks your front.

The man walks past you both and leaves the aisle, without missing a beat Eren starts pounding into you again. "See, no one will know. So just be a good slut for me while I use this pussy to jerk off my fat cock, yeah?" He ended up cumming deep inside you, making both of you moan louder than you should. He pulled out and tucked himself back in his jeans pulling your panties back into place. He cups your pussy pressing his fingers on top of the cotton, and rubbed rough circles onto your fucked out hole. "Keep all of it inside, baby. We don't want people to ask questions if it starts to drip onto the floor."

How he'd just walk up to you on the couch and spread your legs while you watched you favorite show. He is very happy to see his personal fucktoy so ready for him, splayed out on the couch naked. Wordlessly laying between your thighs, taking his time to eat you out hard bringing you to atleast 3 orgasms before sitting up and sinking his cock into your needy pussy.

He whines so loud and deliciously as he buries himself to the base. He lifts your legs and pushes them to your chest, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. The scream that you let out when he starting roughly humping into you was enough to turn him into an absolute mess. He starts POUNDING that pussy so hard that he barley notices the bulge that forms in your lower belly.

But when he does tho.... he goes absolutely feral with the sight of his cockhead poking out under your skin just bellow your belly button.

He forgot what it even feels like to cum anywhere besides your wet and warm holes. Like this man straight up refuses to cum if he can't stuff it deep inside you one way or another. Even if you ask him to cum somewhere else he only agrees if he can push it into you with his fingers afterwards.

This man's moans, whimpers and whines are fucking immaculate. He is so vocal and absolutely unafraid about being heard, he is so pussy whipped he couldn't care any less if he was being too loud.

In conclusion this man has me by the neck and the pussy. I just know he's packing ONG!😫

#tw: public sex #smutty #eren smut #tw:breeding #aot x you #aot smut #eren yeager smut #eren jeager x reader #smut #mating press

[certifiedfreec]

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

[xyziiix]

𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘈 𝘊𝘙𝘖𝘞𝘋 ~ 𝘑.𝘗 & 𝘚.𝘙

PAIRINGS: Captain John Price X Female!Reader X Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

WARNINGS: SMUT - this is pure porn u guys - MMF threesome, unprotected P in V (wrap it please for the love of god) spanking, ROUGH GHOST, Price being an arsehole, being fucked over a desk, Eiffel Tower 😏, oral (m!receiving), creampie, kinda degrading.

A/N: I heard your pleas you little horndogs. You ask and you shall receive. (Sorry it’s a lil rushed and — surprise surprise, not proof read yet)

[could be read as a part 2 to ARDOUR, could also be read by itself)

It was Price that had noticed it first.

Of course he had. He was regardful. Observant.

He noticed it first a few days after you’d returned to base from Urizakstan. The way the Lieutenant’s eyes would linger on you when you were talking or just suddenly appeared — breathing life into the room, as you usually did. And it wasn’t just in a way one would be respectably paying attention to someone whilst they were speaking or doing something to gather their attention — No. it was the way his eyes — ones that always seemed devoid of emotion — would follow your body when you moved around, would watch you like a predator stalking it’s prey. Price recognised the look in his eyes.

Because that’s how he also looked at you.

While the situation you and Price were in was… delicate — and would definitely rouse misplaced reactions by the people in your place of work — he thought the idea of another man looking at you the way Ghost did would’ve angered him. Made him jealous. Irrational.

But for some reason it didn’t irk him as he thought it would.

And it wasn’t long after that he figured out Simon knew about you two. Perhaps the way Ghost seemed to be more observant and more silent than usual when the two of you were normally interacting with each other in front of the task force — keeping it strictly professional while you weren’t in the privacy with only each other. So that’s how Price figured he knew. Why would he be acting odd — even more than usual — about the two of you simply talking in the same room as everyone? It was like he knew a secret, a dirty secret.

Turns out he did.

In that battered down, sad excuse of a safe house in the Urzikstan dessert, it turns out not everyone was asleep that night while your Captain decided to fuck you.

You two had hidden it well — he’d give you both credit for that — so it was safe to say it had genuinely surprised him when he saw the sight in front of him that night. He was careful. Quiet. Like a ghost. Sticking to the shadows and moving silently — which was very surprising considering the Lieutenant’s looming height.

He had heard the noises — your noises — and it was obvious they were trying to be muffled. At first, he’d immediately thought of danger, that’s why he had been cautious to approach instead of just bursting into the room.

He remembers the feeling of his chest tightening in realisation when he saw what he saw. Price’s back was to Ghost — laying on his side on the ground. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but he could see the glow of perspiration from the moonlight shining through the thin glass pane window and onto the dewy skin of your bare leg draped over Price’s thigh. Even just the silver of soft skin and the sound of your singing being trapped into the Captain’s palm had Simon hard, his pants tightening in his groin area — other than that he remained completely silent, even his breathing seemed nonexistent as he just watched the two of you. He didn’t even touch himself either, just watched. Like he thought if he looked away for a moment then the image of you like this would be gone.

But now it had been burned into his memory. The sounds you made. The soft and supple flesh of your thigh. And even the way your dainty hand had grabbed onto Price’s arm when he made you come. He wondered if you’d make those noises for him — except he wouldn’t muffle them with his palm. No. He’d want you to let everything out, every scream, every cry, every wanton moan while he fucked you dumb with his cock.

Price had brought up his observation of the Lieutenant one night a few weeks later. Both of you basking in the afterglow of sex in your rooms in the barracks.

“Simon.” He started simply, and you had turned to look at him quizzically.

“What about him?”

“Think he knows.”

Somewhere between then and now, you had discussed the possibility of this. To say you were very surprised when Price was the one that suggested Simon fucking you was an understatement. It wasn’t that Price wanted to be sexual with Ghost — as sexy as that would’ve been to see — he liked the idea of watching him fuck you. He couldn’t explain why, but just something that had been brewing in the back of his mind.

You had told Price that he wouldn’t have wanted that — that he was a closed off person who was hard to read, how could John have possibly conjured up that assumption that Simon was attracted to you?

Well, your captain always liked proving you wrong.

Because here you were, bent over the expanse of John’s desk — the desk you’d already had the pleasant experience of being bent over, laid atop of, and sat underneath while you sucked his cock as he sat in the desk chair — only this time it was infact, Lieutenant Simon Riley plowing into you with his intimidatingly large cock.

His grip on your hips was borderline painful — but it hurt so good. You worried he may make the desk topple over with how hard he was thrusting into you. You’d never been this stretched open before — feeling the too much, too full feeling of his dick inside of you, the blunt head of his length kissing the plug of your cervix with each steady but strong buck of his hips.

The masked man’s gaze was set of the globes of your arse, how the flesh rippled when his hips met yours, how every time it did so he got a glimpse of your little puckered hole — fuck, he wanted to fuck you there as well. But, he didn’t want to push his luck just yet. The only noises to be heard in Price’s office was skin meeting skin, the sound of your small cries and whimpers of ecstasy. You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but it was rather pathetic — your moans eventually interjecting through the room.

That’s when Price had changed his mind about just watching you. He had been painfully hard the last 15 minutes from having watched you already come on Ghost’s cock, your eyes glassy and lips red raw from biting them as you gripped onto the table for dear life. You didn’t even register him standing in front of you until you heard the sound of metal teeth being zipped open as well as the buckle of his belt.

“Gotta keep you quiet, love.” He excused with a chuckle while sliding his cock between your lips.

You really did have to keep quiet. And though the door was locked anyone walking by would’ve heard you — being fucked by your lieutenant while your captain watched.

You tried to focus on hollowing your cheeks around John’s cock. But you were utterly cock drunk, already feeling another powerful orgasm building in the pit of you abdomen while Simon continued to fuck you. Price had obviously noticed you struggling — as the bastard seemed to notice everything, he’d smugly remind you — so he had gathered your hair, using it to lift your head up as he started to fervently fuck your throat.

If you thought you felt impossibly full then you were beyond stuffed now, your jaw slack as John fucked your face and your pussy stretched almost painfully wide around Simon’s cock.

Ghost let out a prolonged, raspy breath when he felt you squeezing his dick in a vice. And in return, one of his hands left your hips in order to collect both your wrists with his single, calloused palm, pining them to your lower back as he fucked you impossibly harder, his pace quickening a little. His other palm landing a smack to your sore asscheeks — a crack of palm meeting flesh sounding in the office.

“Look at you, eh?” Price spoke, his tone annoyingly steady despite your mouth gliding up and down his cock. “Being fucked by your superiors. What would everyone make of you?” He asked with a gruff chuckle — and obviously you couldn’t answer.

About several moments later you felt yourself tumbling into another fierce climax, all but crying around John’s cock as your abused cunt squeezed Simon pitifully — which rewarded you with another slap to your rear, the skin red raw.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon grunted lowly — that adding to the short list of words he’d actually spoken this whole time.

Your arse hurt, your wrists hurt, your jaw hurt — your fucking pussy hurt — but you didn’t want it to stop, ever.

John pulled his cock out of your mouth, his dick coated in a mix of saliva and precum. His hand still buried in your hair — keeping your head up. Your neck hurt as well.

“Such a good girl.” Price praised as he bent his knees a little to see your face better, a smug smile curling his lips at the tears staining your flushed cheeks. “He makin’ you feel good?” He asks, there’s an edge to his voice.

The Lieutenant — being so full of surprises tonight — pushes his hand under you. The rough pad of his thumb cruelly flicking your clit. Your body seizing forward, a sharp cry escaping your lips while Simon still held your wrists pinned behind you.

When your eyes had widened at the overstimulating sensation, John had mirror your expression — but mockingly. “You like being used like this don’t you?”

You could only moan in response — unable to form a coherent thought let alone sentence.

Price tapped your cheek, your eyes focusing back on his smug face. “Asked you a question, love.” He reminded you. Arsehole.

“Yeah-“ you managed to babble out, your words shaking in tandem with your body, John’s smile curled into a Cheshire Cat grin — his goatee lifting.

“Yeah, you do.” He repeated.

Neither men had lasted much long after that. Price had gone back to fucking your face while Simon was relentlessly pounding into you. Your third orgasm was — quite literally — breath taking, it felt like your skin was on fire, yet numb at the same time. You definitely couldn’t feel your legs. Ghost came first, burying himself all the way to the hilt before spilling hot ropes of come inside of you with a groan — so much that it leaked out of you in a dribble of pearly white, you had let out a pathetic whine when he pulled out — the empty feeling had you quivering around nothing.

Price came a few moments later, filling your mouth with his salty spend before you swallowed it all. It tickled your raw throat.

Ghost had left soon after, not that he was ignorant in checking up on you, but because he knew that wasn’t his place to do so — not yet anyway. He had helped you up from the desk though, soothing his hands up and down your waist before Price took over. He had shared a look with you — his eyes saying everything his mouth wouldn’t.

@tapioca-marzipan @kanyewestburnbook @darksxder @louve-barnes @emodanoriddler @imonmykneessir @nightingal3-tales @ghost-2513 @fruitymoonbeams-blog

I tagged the ppl who commented on ARDOUR, if your name isn’t in grey then it wouldn’t let me tag you x

Call Of Duty MW2 Masterlist

#john price x reader #captain price smut #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut

[rileyslibrary]

Chest candy for Ghost and the 141! After many successful missions (and being the baddest bitches in general) the team is going to receive some medals. Ghost tries everything in his power to not have to attend the ceremony. Having to wear that stupid ceremonial uniform, all the attention and the fuzz around them - that sounds like hell to him. He's just doing his goddamn job after all.

A/N: I was very disappointed when I learned what a chest candy is, ngl. A literal version (like a crate filled with gummies and stuff) would be so much better. Anyway, on with the story.

———————————————————————

“You walk like you’re chafed down there, mate.”

Ghost stops and shoots a threatening look at Soap. And reasonably so—your poor lieutenant was trying his best. Price negotiated with him, and they reached an agreement for today’s dress code—he would put on the fancy uniform but keep the balaclava on.

The captain decided this was a fair exchange—persuading Ghost to wear anything other than camo deserved a chest candy of its own. Not only that, but many people will attend today’s ceremony; even worse, the press will also be there. There was no way he would get rid of his “comfort blanket.”

But, even a day without his camo, standing in front of strangers and being photographed, is a century for the lieutenant.

You, Soap and Ghost are preparing for the event in the town hall’s bathroom. Ghost struggles to walk in his new shoes, so you figured some practice might help. You made him walk across the bathroom stalls, which was an unfortunate location since Soap was already in one of the toilets and popped out, offering a “helping” hand.

But it’s not just the shoes that hinder his ability to act normal. He seems to struggle with something deeper within himself. He constantly fidgets, readjusts his blazer, pulls at his collar, and avoids direct eye contact. His gaze constantly darts between you, the sink, the floor, and back to you again.

Except for now.

He’s staring at Soap like a feral animal, ready to leap on its prey. And you get it. You do. Given what he’s used to, this situation should be tough and quite uncomfortable.

He slowly shifts away from Soap and towards you.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“Tell him,” Soap taunts you with his arms crossed, “tell him how he looks.”

“Why are you still in here?” You snap at him.

“I’m sorry!” Soap shouts and throws his hand up, “Have you guys booked the toilets for a private viewing?”

You close your eyes and rub your forehead. This better not escalate.

“Can you please leave us alone for a mom—”

“How about forever?” Ghost snaps.

“Fine”, Soap says and heads for the exit. “Just don’t let him pull another runaway bride on us again, okay?”

You wave for him to exit the bathroom. Soap does as he’s told, and you lean against one of the stalls. You examine the lieutenant from head to toe, but he’s too busy patting and pulling at the blazer to notice you. He grabs his tie and tugs at it.

“Don’t loosen the tie.” You command, “It’s supposed to be snug.”

“Who the fuck decided that wearing a noose around your neck is a good idea?” He says and starts tugging at his collar.

“And stop doing that to your collar—you’ll rip a button off.”

“It’s too tight.”

You approach him, place your index finger inside his collar, and trace the circumference.

“Ghost, it’s not that tight.”

“It sure feels like it.” He replies.

You sigh and slap your arms against your thighs. How will you make him understand what he’s feeling right now? He has to turn his attention inwards and observe his body. Acknowledge it. That’s the only way he’d be able to befriend his current state.

“Is the collar and tie the issue here, or is it your throat?” You ask.

He clasps his neck and looks at you, puzzled. “I don’t understand,” he says.

“Your throat,” you explain, “does it feel tight? Is there a lump when you swallow?”

He throws his head back and closes his eyes. He’s trying to become acquainted with his senses. He takes a deep breath and swallows hard.

“Affirmative,” he states, “a lump is indeed present.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

He opens his eyes wide and nods slowly. “Sure does,” he murmurs.

“It feels like when we’re at the beginning of a mission, right?”

“Just like it.” He nods, “especially when we’re unsure of what we might come across.”

“How about,” you say as you straighten his tie, “We approach this event in the exact same way?”

“How?”

“What are the objectives here?” You ask.

“Get that fucking chest candy, and get the fuck out of here.”

“And what should we do to accomplish that?”

“Get up on the stage, shake some dickhead’s hand, and walk away.” He replies.

“How long would you recon that’ll take?”

He tilts his head. “About three minutes max.”

“That’s not too bad!” You shout and pat his chest, “Plus, I doubt the people awarding us want to be here either.”

He huffs. “You think so?”

“Of course! It’s just as inconvenient for them as it is for us.”

“Then why are we all doing this?” he wonders and throws his hands up, “Why pretend?”

“Because,” you reply, “sometimes in life, you must pretend; pretend to be strong, courageous, pretend to know what you’re doing even though you have no clue….”

“Fake it till you make it?” He asks.

You smile. “Yeah, Lt., fake it till you make it.”

He shakes his hands and kicks his feet. He straightens his suit and posture, then looks at the bathroom window.

“This won’t fit me this time, so we might as well get done with it as soon as possible,” he says and turns to you, “on me, soldier.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You salute him.

You walk towards the entrance where the ceremony is taking place. Many people are in the room, but you always stay within his proximity to make him feel safe. Sometimes you direct him on what to do—shake this person’s hand, relax the shoulders, pose, stand over here.

He leans towards you while waving at another soldier.

“Do I walk like I’m sore?” He murmurs.

You smile at a photographer and lean towards Ghost.

“No,” you whisper, “why?”

“Soap said so.”

Fucking Soap. He was right; these shoes make him walk like a duck, but you can’t admit it, especially now. He’ll flee.

“Yeah, well,” you reply, “Soap also walks around with a mohawk on his head.”

“Ridiculous,” he says and laughs, “and here I am, wearing a full suit, right?”

You raise your head and look at his black-painted eyes and skull balaclava. He can’t be that delusional regarding what’s ridiculous and what isn’t. But if it helps him right now, so be it.

“Damn right, Lt.,” you say as you nudge his side, “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon ghost x reader

[satorusdiary]

All mine

-Plug!Eren x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Protective! but chill Eren, kissing, making out, drunk college people, unwanted flirting/touching, groping, f!reader, Eren beats up a boy for you

Summary: In which a boy named Floch won’t leave you alone during a party. You think Eren isn’t looking over you, but he happens to be watching everything happen. As he observes, he notices something he doesn’t like happen infront of him, that’s when he’s on his way to you, and making sure your okay.

A/N: you and Eren are dating in this one and are happily inlove

Eren knows his girlfriend is pretty, the prettiest out of everyone in the world. As in Jeans words, his girlfriend is a bad bitch. And fucking around with a bad bitch meant immature boys, not men, flirting with his girlfriend at parties. Unknowingly, he’s the one to sit and observe and step in once something fucked up happens. Which involves, touching his girlfriend in ways she doesn’t like.

As of right now, Erens sitting on a couch by the pool table accompanied by his friends, Jean and Reiner. The three of them, watch as another boy comes up to you, asking if you’d like to dance. Obviously you say no, in the politest way you could.

When you say no the guy, he gets defensive and accuses you of lying to him. That’s when you bring your hand up showing the promise ring Eren bought you for your one year anniversary which was 2 weeks ago. You loved showing off the ring, especially in front of guys who were trying to hit at you.

You looked absolutely beautiful today, and everyday in Eren’s eyes. He falls more in-love with you as the days go by. Even if he’s not the one to seem like it, the only person who knows he’s like that is you. His beautiful, loving, girlfriend.

“You letting a ugly ass boy hit up your girlfriend, Eren?” Reiner questions, holding up a red solo cup filled with hennessy. Swirling it around as he continues to watch you deal with Floch as he’s trying to get at you once again.

Eren shook his head, and lets out a half chuckle along with tsk. It’s normal seeing down-bad men go up to you, but it’s the same every-time. You deny them, and then you brag about how beautiful and perfect your boyfriend is.

“Nah, i’m just waiting to see what y/n does.” Eren spoke, putting away the stiiizy pen into his pocket. Jean whines as he sighs. The feeling of not having a hot girlfriend kills Jean everytime, especially when he would watch one of his best friends go through what he wants.

As the scene continues to unfold. You eventually get super disgusted and begin walking away from Floch, not wanting to be around him no more thanks to his inappropriate and desperate words. When he starts following you, out of Erens sight, that’s when he gets up from the couch.

“Aight, that’s when i do something ‘bout this shit.” Eren grunts, walking towards the direction you and Floch left in.

“Don’t kill him, Jaeger!” Connie yells out from the pool table, knowing that if someone was to lay hands on you shit would go down. And not in a good way for the dude that would be flirting with you.

From your point of view, you were getting annoyed. Pushing past many drunk college students who didn’t have the minds to comprehend anything wasn’t helpful aswell.

“Dude! just leave me alone. I’m taken!” You yelled out for what it seems like the billionth time at the male. Floch rolled his eyes and pulled you back, having a tight hold on your wrist.

“C’mon baby, stop playing so hard. Y’know you want me.” Floch whispers the last thing. Your heart drops when he pulls you in closer into a uncomfortable embrace, your hands were on his chest trying to push away from him.

He continues invading your self privacy by digging his head into your neck, kissing, licking it, all of the above. Tears begin brimming up in your vision when his hand slither down to your ass. You helplessly look around to room to see if you could find anyone that you knew, but no one besides drunk college students having fun.

“Yo, what ‘are you doin?” A familiar deep voice comes from behind Floch, sending relief into your chest. Floch immediately takes his hands off of you and turns around, slightly shaking at the voice.

Once his embrace let’s loose, you run out of his arms and head towards Erens, holding him around his torso as tight as you could. Letting a few tears go freely down your cheeks.

Eren places a kiss onto your temple, and rubs his hands up and down your waist reassuring you that you were okay.

“Go back with the others, mama. I’ll meet you in a bit hm?” He hummed, waiting for you respond. He used his thumbs to get rid of the last tears that left your eyes.

You nodded your head and kissed his cheek, turning your head to look at Floch’s shaking form knowing that he couldn’t run, if he were to then shit would get 10x bad then it already was.

“Thank you baby.” You mumbled to Eren once more before walking away from the pair. You knew he didn’t want you staying around for whatever was going to happen, therefore he told you to go ahead with your friends.

luckily, you had Erens jacket on. Even if you were shaken up, you found comfort in his warm puffer jacket with his scent dazing into your senses.

“Jaeger! I-I didn’t know that was your girlfriend..” Floch stuttered as the puzzle began piecing together. When you hugged Eren, that was when Floch swore his heart dropped to his ass.

“What a stupid excuse.” Eren mumbled before walking closer, throwing a punch to the boys nose. Everyone around Eren begins distancing away from the scene, most of them staying to record. Many screams were heard inside the room. That was the last thing you heard before you headed outside to meet up with Mikasa, Annie, and Sasha.

Erens knuckles began to coat with blood, Floch’s blood. Assuming it’s from his now broken nose, or his broken jaw. Just from a few punches, Floch is knocked out. He couldn’t even fight back from the sudden punches, and since Eren was stronger and on top of him. Making him defenseless.

A distant sound of Connie cheering Eren on could be heard from the crowd. Connie had his phone up with flash, yelling “World Star!!”

Befofe Eren could land a final punch to his already swollen and broken jaw, Jean and Armin appear behind him forcing him off of Floch’s beaten, and bloody body.

“Alright! You win Eren now stop before you kill him!” Jean pleads, noticing how upset and tense Eren was. Not a single scratch being left on in. There was a chance Eren would have to make another stop by the police station once again. But it didn’t matter, only if you were safe and alright.

“Yeah! You wouldn’t be able to see your precious girlfriend if you were behind bars right?!” Armin yelled out, Eren still trying to get out of his best friends grasp.

Erens breathing gets heavy, the sounds of people cheering him on continues and gets louder. He looks around to make sure your not in sight, he feels a little bit of relief once he finds out you’re not in the crowd. He knew you didn’t like watching something like this occur, especially if your pretty boyfriend was involved in it.

“You fucker, that’s what happens when you lay your dirty hands on my girlfriend!” Eren yells out to Floch’s unconscious bloody face. Acting like he was able to hear him.

“Fuck get off me.” Eren shoves off Jean and Armin from him, frustrated. The one thing he does is begin finding you, his precious girlfriend. Armin, Jean, and a few of his other friend trail along behind him.

When he sees you, you’re sitting on a bench by the lighten up pool, accompanied by Mikasa and Annie. You were looking down at your lap, admiring your promise ring that was on your ring finger.

You notice people walking outside in the backyard, making you lift up your head to see who it was. When you see Eren, you get up from the bench and instantly run towards your pretty boyfriend who has his arms wide open for you.

You run into his arms, his hands instantly wrapped around your waist as you hide your face into the crook of his neck.

“im sorry, ren.” You pull away from him to spectate his knuckles. The redness making you look up at him with glossy eyes, and a worried expression. He smiles in return, cupping your face with his large hand. Rubbing soothing circles to your cheeks.

“It’s okay, angel. As long as you’re okay.” He props two fingers to your chin and brings his face down to yours. Connecting your lips together, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands move from your waist to under your thighs, signaling you to jump which you do.

Now your legs are wrapped around his waist, the two of you sharing a lovingly, kiss which led onto a small make out session with your tongues fighting for dominance.

“Thank you, thank you rennie. I dunno what i’d do without you, i love you s’much.” You slurred out as you pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva trailing between you both.

He brushes his hand through your hair, giving you a peck on your forehead then a loving kiss on your plump lip.

“I love you more, mama. I’d do anything for you. you’re all mine, forever.” He motioned to the promise ring that was on his hand, and on yours. Making you smile brightly.

#eren <3 #eren x reader #eren jaeger angst #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #snk eren #eren snk #snk headcanons #attack on titan #eren yaeger #eren headcanons #eren x you #eren imagines #eren fluff #shingeki no kyoujin eren #plug!eren #headcannons #emotional #eren angst #eren smut #eren x y/n #eren yeager #eren aot

[koofete]

in motion, in 3D. ー jeon jungkook.

pics not mine!

you touched yourself so well through the screen of jungkook's cellphone that he couldn't help but call you in the middle of the night.

jungkook × f!reader.

mature content, maybe fluff, mentions of squirt, sweet and trying something new, sex call.

note: i'm doing a lot of drabbles 'bout jk, but this man is living in my head! especially now with '3D' lyrics.. hope you guys don't mind!

Jungkook drove alone to the hotel he would stay with his band members, being the last one to arrive because he wanted to stay with you a little longer before traveling again.

Getting out of the car, jeon grabbed two bags, ready to go inside when his cellphone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. Knowing who was possibly calling, he immediately dropped everything that had in hands and grabbed the phone. Your name appearing on the bright screen.

pretty girl 💕 sent a video.

pretty girl 💕 : i'm already missing yoooou

pretty girl 💕 : trying something new, ive never recorded myself like this before

pretty girl 💕 : sleep well ;)

You actually sent him a 'sleep well' after sending that abused pussy of yours gushing cum in a way that jungkook had never in person before?! No fucking way.

How cute of you to think that he could at least close his eyes for more than five minutes without thinking of your little cries in the back of that video, fitting perfectly with the wet sounds.

Her clit clearly needs more than just fingers. ー jeon thoughts making his dick even harder.

Unfortunately, jeon couldn't just grab his bags and go back but he had something on his mind. When entering the hotel, he tried his best to be cool and smile at some people who recognized him, but he was in a hurry.

Anxiously, he locked the door of the room in which would spend the night, not needing to share bed with anyone this time.

gguk: hope you're still awake

gguk: cause i am

You smile at the notification, not expecting him to respond so late at night.

Or maybe you expected, since the sheet beneath your body is a complete mess, your legs are still open and the only piece of clothing you wear is a white tank top from jungkook. You didn't move a finger, wanting to make sure if he would return soon or just the next morning.

gguk is calling . . .

And there you go.

You answered quickly and put it on speakerphone, leaving the phone aside since it wasn't a video call.

"what was that?" Jungkook immediately asks.

"what?"

"you know what i'm talking about, pretty. that fucking video is driving me insane."

"oh!" You chuckle a bit, feeling dizzy by the way his voice sounded hoarser than normal. "did you like it?"

Suddenly you receive a new notification. It was a photo of your boyfriend sitting on a hotel bed, in front of a mirror wearing only dark sweatpants, no shirt. His tattooed arm held his clearly hard cock through the fabric. Strands of his freshly cut hair fell over his forehead and a silver chain hung around his neck.

Your body will always burn with desire and shyness whenever you see him like this, despite the years of relationship.

"this answer your question, love?"

"y-yeah." Still staring wide-eyed at the photo as your legs close without you even noticing; thighs pressed together.

"i can't touch you through the phone and that's torture, baby." He growls the last word, left hand going down to his dick. "but you can fuck that sweet pussy of yours while i'm away. do this for me, yeah? now."

"mm-hm."

He smiles with the way you already seem so surrendered. "tell me if you're still wearing my tank top, pretty girl. i want to imagine you."

"yes, i'm still wearing." You say in a sigh. Now, with both hands free and the cellphone's close, fingers play with your nipple and pussy at the same time.

"fuck..." Jeon curses. His wide hands are already running up and down on his cock, slowly but firmly. "so wet my tank top and our sheets with your cum, love. 'want to smell your scent as soon as i get back to home."

"koo..."

"just like that..." At this point you can hear how wet he is and vice versa. "say my name louder, princess. put three fingers in like you know i would, fast and deep."

He gives the instructions calmly and affectionately, but still manages to sound dominant to your ears, which makes you even whiny. You do as jungkook asks and he notices it by the way your moans become louder, knowing that maybe you could even have tears in your eyes. He furrows his eyebrows and lets the air escape from his lips adorned with a small silver jewel in the corner, muttering small 'ooh's.'

Jungkook was loving having sex with you over the phone, but nothing compares to the feeling of having your body pressed against his, sweat running down his forehead as he gives his life while eat you out. He simply loves the sound that echoes when his balls slap against your ass and can't wait to see you squirting now he know that you can. But in person.

In motion.

"i'm cumming, koo!"

"go ahead, baby. i'm so close too..."

And more than ever, he can't wait to see you again.

`✦ !

#bts smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook × reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc

[bigwishes]

Ask and You Shall Receive

Keanu was a party boy from the streets of New York. Spent most nights in the clubs dancing up on guys. Half the time he'd end up shirtless dancing on the bar flexing in lean muscles driving everyone wild.

Keanu burst into his apartment at 3am half drunk stumbling down his hallway. He didn't manage to score tonight and was horny as hell. If he couldn't fuck, he'd have to relieve himself some other way.

He threw himself down on his bed and flicked open an incognito tab on his phone. Keanu normally found himself bringing home twinks and twunks but what he really wanted was a guy with some size, a huge bodybuilder to totally dominate and make into his bitch. Keanu got hard just thinking about it and went straight to looking up images of massive tanky guys in tight constricting posers. Keanu scrolled through images until he found one with a short caption tied to it. He read it getting finding himself drawn to the fantasy. He had never seen something like this before and clicked on the photo being taken to a website with hundred of captioned photos and stories about guys growing from a skinny jock into a bodybuilder as big as a mountain. Keanu's eyes were glued to the screen and he was captivated by the fantasy.

He had dumbed his load on his bare stomach and chest 3 times and he was ready to go again realising he had discovered a new fetish. Scrolling down the rabbit hole he found one offering suggestions / asks for transformations with a personal touch. Keanu's half drunk brain half horny brain thought he had come up with the perfect suggestion...

"I want to grow so big bodybuilders look like twinks next to me"

Keanu chuckled to himself and fell asleep with one hand on his dick.

Keanu woke up groggy the next morning feeling the pain in his head from his hangover. He would rather spend all day in bed but he knew he had to get his morning routine on the way. Keanu got up, making himself a cup of coffee as he wasn't one to eat first thing. He then dropped down on his half and tip toes to pump out 50 push ups and 50 sit ups like he did every morning.

Keanu picked himself up off the floor and moved his sweaty body to the bathroom for a shower. Looking in the mirror something was different, his body seemed fuller and not just from a pump but he felt bigger too. It was probably his ego combined with his hangover making him feel bigger than he really was but that didn't mean he still didn't feel big.

All day Keanu felt stronger, when he was lifting boxes at work, carrying shopping home, even when he was out flaunting his body on the dance floor he found himself clumsy and bumping into people more often, found his clothes feeling tight like they had all shrunk in the dryer, but he didn't think much of it.

The next morning was almost the same, wake up, coffee, workout but instead of taking a shower instead he had to go back to the kitchen and make himself something to eat, for some reason he found himself starving and craving a protein shake.

Keanu mixed up a shake and made himself a bowl of cereal which is scoffed down like a beast. He caught a whiff of himself still sweaty after his workout he then went to take a shower. Only this time when he saw himself in the mirror he definitely noticed the difference.

His muscled were thicker but not just thicker they were bulging out of his clothes. His mouth dropped and his brow tensed with shock as he flexed his bicep examining himself in the mirror. He dropped his pants leaving himself in his underwear trying to examine his thick quads but he couldn't quite get a look even when he tried standing up on the edge of his bathtub. Although he could feel just by tensing his legs and from how tight his underwear was around his ass he had definitely gained a lot more than a few pounds of muscle overnight.

Right as Keanu was about to get in the shower his phone alarm rang telling him to leave for work. He quickly dashed out of the bathroom throwing on any clothes he could get around his new bigger frame. His clothes still fit but he definitely felt them struggle to stretch over his back as he moved. Running out the door and into the apartment complex elevator he got almost to the bottom floor when he saw a small dark patch in the bent reflection. Upon closer inspection Keanu saw faint pit stains on his shirt under both his arms and the elevator smelt slightly of sweat. He scratched the back of his head.

"Guess that's what happens when I don't shower after working out" he thought.

Getting used to the changes were strange. A crate he'd normally need to ask for help to move he almost through across the room on his own. Lucky everyone at work was used to the smell of manual labour otherwise other people at his job might realise he forgot to shower.

The next morning Keanu got out of bed hearing his stomach growl. He Instantly got up rubbing his six pack, feeling his abs be more defined than yesterday. The novelty hadn't kicked yet, at least not until he had something to eat. Hungrier than yesterday he smashed a shake and two bowls of cereal. After eating he hit his normal workout and went to take a shower. He saw himself in the mirror, bigger and fuller once again. As the water was warming up Keanu sat on the edge of his bath, looking down at his chest bouncing his pecs to himself.

His back was wider, lats and chest sticking out competing for space with his arms. His legs were wide and his quads rubbed against each other. Keanu's walk was slowly turning into more of a lumber.

He grabbed his pec with his massive hand and rubbed his hard defined abs. By the time he pulled himself out of his self inflicted trance he had run out of hot water and his alarm was ringing for him to go to work.

"fuck" he said turning the shower off running to his bedroom to grab some clothes.

Keanu frantically ran around his room trying to find something to fit, his jeans wouldn't go up over his massive legs, his arms wouldn't fit through the arm holes in his shirts, he couldn't even get his button ups to come half way across his chest. The only thing he had left were his gym tank and shorts. Both of which used to be loose casual fits for him but now they were tight, like a bodybuilder who ordered the size down from what he needed.

Keanu frantically ran out of his house to the apartment building elevator. As the doors open he went to walk through them when he bounced out, both his shoulders smashed into the duel opening doors. He was so used to knowing when it was open enough for him to enter for years and now he was clumsy with his new size. Standing in the elevator the smell of sweat was starting to become potent. He'd have to make sure he took a shower on his day off.

Keanu woke up groggy from a late night of partying until 4am. Sitting up in his bed he felt a constricting pressure around his legs. Pulling back his bed sheets he saw a pair of jeans ripped and torn around his massive tree trunk legs, so tight the veins of his legs could be seen pressing through the fabric that hasn't been ripped.

Keanu stood up hearing the sound of denim. He tried to take off the jeans but it was like peeling off a layer of skin. It was like they had been shrunk after putting them on.

Finally pulling them off he realised how badly he needed a shower. two days of hard working and a full night of partying without a proper shower left him stinking worse than all the guys he worked with combined. He walked down the hall, bumping into a few things along the way struggling to reconfigure his internal gyroscope. After waking up as big as he was yesterday he expected he'd stop growing by now, but he was shocked at how massive he was when he looked in the mirror.

Keanu was twice as wide as he was yesterday and easily twice as dence. He struggled to curl his arm up to take a selfie, his bicep and forearm fought against one another and it was almost like he was forced to flex if he wanted to use his arms.

He dropped his arms to the side trying to leave them resting comfortably but his wide back and lats made his arms stick out like he was always doing a lat spread. Keanu took a few steps hearing his steps making his entire apartment vibrate sounding like he was stomping just from a regular step. His muscles bounced in the mirrors and he got hard looking at his size move. Keanu reached down and found it difficult to reach his dick, as he rotated his arm forward his shoulders and biceps collided, he could just barely grab his dick, not just from how his massive muscles constricted his size but from how much girth and size had been added to his manhood. It wasn't something he had been noticing compared to the massive changes of his swelling muscles everyday.

Keanu waddled his massive frame back to his bedroom, feeling his thighs rubbing against each other constricting his movement. He made it to his bed lying down feeling his massive weight bend the frame in. He pulled out his phone which was dwarfed by his enormous hands. Keanu reached down to his dick able to comfortably move with one leg half cocked in the air.

Keanu went to the cite he was on the other night and found a reply posted to the request he just barely remembers sending in. He read the story seeing images of him posted in between long paragraphs about him growing when he's asleep. Keanu began to jerk himself off moaning as he read the story. He got to a paragraph where he read about growing whilst he pleasured himself, he felt the blood pump up his muscles and heard as his body adjusted itself with the constant swelling of size. His phone looked like it was becoming smaller by the second and it was harder for him to keep his hand wrapped firmly around his manhood.

Keanu was on the edge right as he got to the end of the story. He quickly clicked the request button.

"I wanna be stupid big, make me stupid big"

Keanu blew his load all over his abs and relaxed into his bed. His head felt slightly cloudy. Looking at his tiny phone a short story tied to his latest ask popped up on the screen.

A picture of him as an enormous swollen titan standing in front of a mirror in what looked like his bathroom with the simple caption.

"you are so massive and so heavy but so fucking stupid you can barely string a sentence together you dumb horny giant"

Keanu got up and waddled his ridiculous mass to his bathroom where he stood in front of the mirror shocked at his bulging size but before a thought of regret could form in his head he noticed drool pouring out the corner of his mouth and his jaw slowly fell open as all his thoughts evaporated.

UHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh HUHUHUH

Keanu let out a moronic laugh giggling at how he bounced his pecs in the mirror.

Now if only the monstrous moron could figure out how to get a hold of his dick...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #gay transformation #tf story #transformation #reality change

[kaleldobrev]

Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Fluff

Authors Note: Happy 18th Anniversary to Supernatural which aired on September 13, 2005! In honor of that, here’s a cute little AU where reader and Dean celebrate their 18th wedding anniversary | Neither one of them are hunters | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

March 2000 – A frat house in Lawrence, Kansas

You stood leaning up against the living room wall, a red solo cup in your hand filled with a liquid that was some kind of alcohol mixture (you were told it was fruit punch and vodka – but you couldn’t be 100% sure cause it didn’t taste like either to you). You felt incredibly hot and sweaty despite the tank top and short shorts that you were wearing; the amount of people packed into each room was claustrophobic to you – and you weren’t someone where something like that normally bothered you.

Your roommate (the one that dragged you here saying that it would be fun) was nowhere in sight. This was your roommate’s idea of fun – not yours, this was far from your idea of fun. You didn’t mind being social if you had to be, but all you wanted to do was just be in bed right now watching some TV eating a giant bowl of cereal; your usual dinner of choice when you were too lazy to actually cook anything (you absolutely loved having breakfast for dinner – despite what your roommate thought).

As you stood against the wall thinking of things you much rather be doing, you almost didn’t notice a man coming to stand next to you, he too with a red solo cup. You turned to look at him briefly, flashing him an acknowledging smile so you didn’t have to talk to him – despite him being a rather attractive man. You turned again to face the crowd and took a sip out of your cup. The sound of a man’s voice caught your attention, but you had no idea what he said due to how obnoxiously loud it was. “Did you say something?” You practically yelled to the man next to you – who for some reason was wearing a heavy ass leather jacket that looked obviously too big on him. “And why are you wearing a heavy ass leather jacket in here? I’m wearing a tank top and shorts and I’m still fucking hot.”

A smirk formed on his lips. You really are fucking hot, Dean thought to himself. “I said,” he leaned in close to your ear so he wouldn’t be trying to yell over the music and the crowd, “What’s up.” He then leaned back and took a sip out of his own cup which seemed to be a much darker liquid compared to what you were drinking. Whiskey maybe? You didn’t really know any college students who drank whiskey. You guessed this guy did though.

“Oh!” You said, quietly laughing to yourself. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“It’s alright. It’s hard to hear anything given how quiet it is in here.” He joked.

“Oh definitely.” You joked back. “To answer your question though, not much. I uh, I didn’t want to come.” You answered. “Sorry, is this your frat?”

The man scoffed. “Fuck no.” His response through you off, almost as if he was offended that you even entertained the idea of him even being a part of a frat. “I just know a couple of guys here. Frats aren’t really my thing.” He took another sip from his cup, finally smelling the whiskey on his breath. “You in a sorority?”

“Yeah, no.” You replied, sounding almost as offended as he did. “Nothing against sorority girls, but it’s not really my thing.”

“So, why are you here?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“My roommate dragged me here. She’s the one in the sorority and her boyfriend is one of the frat bros from this house.” You finished the rest of your drink. “This isn’t really my idea of fun. I’m not a…party girl.” You almost mumbled the last two words.

“What is your idea of fun?” Again, he sounded genuinely curious. Maybe he wasn’t looking to just hook up – it was weirdly refreshing.

“Honestly?” You asked, and he nodded. “Anything but this.”

“So if I were to recommend pool or foosball, would that be something you’d find fun?” His suggestions intrigued you.

“Is that what you find fun?” You asked raising a brow, giving him a small smirk.

He grinned back, he too finishing up his drink. “Sweetheart, I can make anything fun.”

“Oh really?” Your voice intrigued. He simply just winked. “Listen, I don’t normally do this kind of thing –”

“Flirt?” He asked bluntly.

“Yeah…That obvious?”

He shook his head. “A little but, to be fair, the reason I came over to talk to you is because I thought you were hot.” You must of given him a look because he chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing just…never been told I’m hot before.” You admitted, it was his turn to give you a rather confused look.

“I don’t believe that.” He replied. He pointed to your cup. “Done?” He asked now reaching for it.

“Yeah.” You replied, handing him your empty cup.

“Are you busy Tuesday night?” His voice sounding a little nervous, yet confident.

“No, why?”

“Want to go on a date? I know a bar just outside of town that has foosball and the best bacon cheeseburgers you’ll ever have.” You did like the sound of that. “Unless foosball and bacon cheeseburgers aren’t your idea of fun.”

You gave him a smile, not wanting to admit to him that those two things were actually your idea of fun. “Well, you did say you can make anything fun.” You said, your tone teasing.

“So is that a yes Sweetheart?” You didn’t like the nickname, but gave it a pass considering how hot he was.

“That’s a yes.” You smiled, holding out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

He took your hand in his and shook it firmly. “Dean.” He said, flashing you one of the best smiles you’ve ever seen.

September 13, 2023 – Y/N & Dean’s House in Kansas City, Kansas

You woke up to the sound of your alarm – 7:15am on the dot, and let out a tiny groan. You had no intentions of getting up for at least another hour; hating that you actually set an alarm – especially since you purposely took this week off. You felt Dean’s bare arm wrap around your waist and bring you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. The stubble actually feeling weirdly nice on your bare shoulder. “Good morning.” You said, your voice lazy.

A single kiss was placed on your shoulder, the feeling making you slightly shudder, giving you goosebumps. “Morning Sweetheart.” He replied sounding just as lazy. “I thought you weren’t setting alarms.”

“I forgot to unset it.” You answered. You didn’t have to look to know he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied, sounding like he didn’t believe you. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Have rough sex in bed.” You replied, your tone joking but at the same time, this was something you knew you or him wouldn’t actually mind doing today.

“Oh?” He asked. “You know, I do like the sound of that.” He kissed your shoulder again before you turned to face him.

“Why do I hear a but coming?” You asked.

“But…I do have another idea.” He said.

“And what’s that?”

“You remember The Bunker right?” He asked. How could you ever forget? It was the bar that Dean took you on your first date over 23 years ago. You nodded. “Well, I talked to the owner the other day and mentioned that we went there for our first date over 23 years ago and well…I took a shot in the dark and asked if he would be able to close the bar for the night…just for the two of us.”

You raised a brow. You were both impressed and confused. “How much did this cost you?” You asked. You hated that that was the first thing on your mind.

“Nothin’.” He answered almost too quickly. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Nothing?” You asked in disbelief.

“Nothing.” He smiled.

“Alright. I trust you.” You said.

In reality it did cost Dean something, but it wasn’t money. In exchange for renting out the bar for the night for just the two of them, he agreed to fix the owner’s car.

September 13, 2023 – The Bunker Bar in Lebanon, Kansas

The bar looked exactly as you had remembered it – and smelled just as it did all those years ago. Although you and Dean used to come here almost every single weekend during your junior and senior year of college (you would make a weekend trip out of it), the two of you eventually stopped coming as frequently once you and him moved to Kansas City. The last time you and him had come here was probably 15 years ago. “So, we have the whole place to ourselves uh?” You asked, looking up at your husband – wearing something similar to how he dressed on your first date. It amazed you that he had actually remembered what he had wore. “I don’t normally fuss when it comes to outfits but…I really, really wanted to impress you.” Was something he told you during your wedding vows years later. Although he wanted to impress you, he still wore something similar to how he normally dressed, but the burgundy-colored shirt over the top of a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans was a look that was probably one of your favorites on him. His hair was even slightly gelled the same way.

“We sure do.” He smiled, admiring you. If he was being honest with himself, he never thought he’d be here right now with you. He didn’t think the date was going to go anywhere, despite it wanting to. He really thought someone like you would never of given him the time of day. “I really thought you were fucking with me when you asked me out and told me I was hot.” Was something you said to him during your first date. “I would never fuck with someone like this.” He reassured you.

“Think the bacon cheeseburgers are just as good as we remember?” You asked.

“I think so.” He said almost too quickly, but then rethought his answer. “Then again, I think I’ve only ever had them when I had a few drinks in me already.”

The two of you did your best to try and re-create your first date you had together all those years ago. Playing pool, foosball, indulging on bacon cheeseburgers, chili fries, mozzarella sticks, and beer. Despite loving all of this food, the two of you didn’t eat this food all at once – you knew both of your stomachs were going to hurt the rest of the night or maybe the next day, but neither of you seemed to care.

As the two of you were sitting at one of the tables, empty plates and baskets of food surrounding you, you opened up your purse and took out a box, handing it to Dean. He looked at you and started wiping his hands on a napkin in front of him. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Your anniversary gift.” You replied with a smile. “I know it won’t be as extravagant as this but, I still hope you like it.”

“It’s from you. Of course I’ll love it.” He winked, taking the box from you. He shook the box, trying his best to try and figure out the contents of the box. It sounded almost empty – which confused him.

“Just open it.” You said. “Trust me.”

“So bossy.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes. Unwrapping the box, it was plain and white, almost the size of a necklace box. Lifting the lid his eyes went wide. “No fucking…Y/N.” He looked up at you, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Season tickets.” You smiled. “I know you’ve been wanting them for a while.” You said.

You had gotten him season tickets for the Dallas Cowboys – his favorite NFL team, despite living in Kansas his entire life, then again, you too had lived in Kansas all your life and you were a Patriots fan.

Dean leaned across the table and kissed you, the two of you smiling into it. “I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” You replied back. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary.” He smiled back, the two of you kissing again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

#tumblr polls #autistic anime boys poll #prelims #kiriwo ami #welcome to demon school! iruma-kun #arjuna #fate grand order #sherlock holmes #moriarty the patriot #apollo justice #ace attorney #heiji hattori #detective conan #urara #tsuritama #shu kurenai #beyblade burst #vash the stampede #trigun #hyakkimaru #dororo #kei miyama #paradox live

[charliehoennam]

the dinner party

A/N: Filling out this request. Enjoy!

Pairing: David Loki x F!reader

Summary: David and his girl spice things up at her boss's annual dinner party.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. Language, unprotected p in v sex (wrap your willy, kids), oral play, cumplay, not proofread

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Parties in general were David’s least favorite things. He rarely gets time off and the last thing he wants to do is spend it sharing you with people he doesn’t know.

Sure, they were your co-workers and superiors and he trusted you more than anyone in the world. But you looked way too sexy to be at this stupid dinner party.

He wanted to have you to himself tonight. He didn’t want to socialize; his social meter was already naturally low and he’d been there for almost half an hour now, enduring the small talk with the strangers you introduced him to and all their invasive questions about the job he mostly just didn’t want to think about.

You noticed his discomfort when he excused himself to get more wine after one of the most obnoxious guys of your workplace asked him what the most disturbing thing he’d seen on the job was.

It was disturbing for a reason and he wished he could forget it.

“Uhm, that’s rather a hard question to answer. Guess I’ve just seen too much” David answered curtly. “Excuse me, I ran out of fuel” he confirmed raising his glasses.

You co-workers laughed it off with his little joke, but you knew he wasn’t trying be funny, so you followed him into your boss’s kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t-“ you started, regretting that you had dragged him along.

“Not your fault, babe. People are just assholes sometimes.”

“Just 30 more minutes? I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do, but I have to. You know how my boss is. He takes it personal if we don’t show up. I don’t wanna be iced out at work.”

“What if I planted drugs in his house?” he smirked picking at the charcutarie board on the kitchen island to pop some salami into his mouth. “Ooh, that’s good salami. I think that’s salami, at least.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course, I am. But he is a douche. I’d be doing you a favor.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but this job pays for all the sexy lingerie I wear for you.” You smirked filling up both your glasses. “And the hours are really flexible too.”

“Almost as flexible as you” he smirked back idling around the kitchen. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise. I know it’s important. It’s just fucking boring as shit. If I have to hear your boss talk about his Italian inspiration for the house, my head might actually explode. I can literally feel the vein in my head throb every time he says ‘venetian’.”

You chortled with a sip of your wine.

“I know he’s a lot to handle, but it’s just for 30 minutes. And I already introduced you to everyone, so we can just hang out with my friends out back until then. They’re pretty normal, like us.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been half an hour. It feels like it’s been at least 3 hours.”

“What can I do to make it easier hm?” you smiled rubbing your palm against his chest.

“Well…” he smirked lowering his gaze to scan your body. He loved how your black dress hugged your curves just perfectly. “There is one thing that would make me really happy. You know I have a sweet tooth, right?”

You narrowed your eyes with a mirroring smirk.

“You want dessert already?”

“It’s the best part of the course, if you ask me.”

“Fine. But we gotta keep it quiet” you nodded with a mischievous smile.

"Wait. Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. He didn't think you'd actually agree.

"Yeah, I am. This party is a total dud. I wouldn't be here unless I had to. Might as well make it fun," you smiled nonchalantly, dipping your fingertip into your wine and dabbed the red liquid on his white shirt.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?”

“You’re a cop, David. Rule number one: always have an alibi. And I’m not gonna ruin my dress. It was more expensive than your shirt.”

“Ey, I paid 10 dollars for this shirt at the good-will.”

“My point exactly,” you smirked taking his hand to lead him out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. “You’re such a klutz, Davy. Let’s try to get you cleaned up.”

Fighting back the excited smile was hard to do as you led him to the upstairs floor. Running off to a secret place to do secret things had you both feeling like young teenagers in love again.

“Yeah, ” he smirked with suspicious eyes squinted at you as you weaved through the crowd of employees. "Accident happen."

If there was one thing David loved more than you and his job, it was going down on you. And, if that wasn't enough already, it was one of the many things that he excelled at.

"C'mere, beautiful" he smirked turning you around once you'd locked the door.

His hands snaked around your hips as lips collided with you in a feverish kiss, hiking up your dress. Your lower back met with the marble countertop of the sink in the lavish bathroom.

David opened his eyes to look at the reflection of your ass, beautifully on display in your black lace panties.

"You look so pretty, baby" he groaned at the twitching of his hidden cock.

Your cheeks bloomed with warmth as praises spewed from his mouth.

Once his knees met the floor, he wasted no time getting to work. David loved seeing you in black lace. He loved your pussy even more.

His moans were muffled as he buried his mouth over your clothed cunt, nose rubbing and circling your sensitive nub as he inhaled your delicious scent.

"Got this pretty pussy all dressed up for me too huh?" he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

His hot breath and warm tongue nuzzling your cunt had your panties growing wetter and wetter with a combination of his saliva and your slick.

You moaned as your hand reached for his head, legs welcoming his mouth as you sat back on the edge of the countertop.

With a hand wrapped around your thigh, he hooked a finger under the lacy fabric and pulled it to the side in order to display your juicy cunt to him.

"Ain't nothing sweeter than this right here."

His open mouth quickly latched onto your exposed pussy. His tongue eagerly licked up the sopping mess that only flooded from your spongy walls.

His thumb circled over your delicate clit as his tongue stroked over your plushy folds up and down, over and over again, sending electricity throughout your body and curling your toes.

The sticky sounds of your incredibly wet cunt and his mouth along with David's expertly technique altering from your pussy, down to your puckering asshole, had your head hanging back. Heat burned in your cheeks as you wondered if anyone could hear you from the outside.

David's eyes were locked on your contorting reaction, coming undone with your mouth hung open in an ecstasy only he could provide. So desperate for your release, you ground your hips against his face, caressing his head of luscious hair as you chased your high.

Your spine arched forward as you relished every greedy movement of his flickering tongue, panting when his thumb slowly sped up its circling over your tender clit.

David's low chuckle at your frantic chase for climax sent chills over your hot skin.

"D-Dave, I-I'm gonna-" you gasped, trying your best to stay as quiet as you possibly could.

"Cum for me," he ordered adding more pressure and speed to his teasing thumb.

The blinding white light of sheer pleasure rippled through your body, letting it tremble under his unyielding mouth. Despite your attempt to shut your thighs, he chuckled darkly as he forced them apart, pushing you further back and folding you over on the countertop until your knees met your chest and your back met the cold surface of the mirror behind you.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soaked just for me.”

With a teeth baring grin, his long fingers glided easily between your slick folds, toying with the sensitive mound of flesh.

“Came so good for me, didn’t you? Gonna let me taste it?”

You nodded eagerly at him unable to speak with heavy breaths, trying to ease yourself from your newfound high.

“Be a good girl and spread your pussy for me then" he ordered politely quickly bringing your hands under your thighs to pull your pussy apart to hold it open yourself in the raunchiest way.

“Atta girl” he grinned maliciously.

His tongue shoved into your soaked hole, delving deeper and deeper into your open cunt. David was addicted to your pussy, to your taste. He loved how wet you could get, how much of a mess you could make just for him to see.

You watched as he fucked you with his tongue, lapping at your pulsing walls as he impatiently licked for every single drop.

"Baby, fuck me. Please. I need your cock in me so fucking bad right now" you begged, reminded by his tongue of his dick.

He didn't hesitate for a single moment before unbuckling his black pants to let his throbbing dick bounce freely from its confines. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock to give it a few tugs, eyes hungrily staring your gaping pussy.

"Jesus fucking Christ" he groaned as the saliva and his pre-cum mixed and coated his heavy cock.

Aligning his heavy tip´to your welcoming pussy, he slid it up and down your swollen slippery lips to gather your slick. You hissed as he tapped it over your sensitive clit, making your hips buck as they chased his cock eager to fill up your pussy with his sizeable dick.

He would've teased you far more if he hadn't remembered where you were, so instead, his tip slipped past your folds and into your warm wet cunt.

He pushed in and pulled out slowly at first, to wet his dick enough until he could glide in and out of you with ease. You both watched completely hypnotized by your pussy lips wrapped around his heavy member with a shiny glazed hug.

"Keep this pussy open for me, baby girl. Take it all in. I know you can take it."

You felt so wonderfully full and stretched with his thick, long cock slowly moving inside you. Every ridge and vein of it massaged your walls in the perfect way, eliciting even more wetness from your body.

"Ah, fuck" he growled lowly unable to tease.

He needed to cum so badly. His dick was already throbbing and aching for release. Not to mention that eventually someone would knock on the door or come looking for you.

His belt buckle jingled as his hips began to piston against yours. His large hands moved to your chest, pulling your bra and dress to watch your breasts bounce freely with his every thrust.

"Ain't gonna last long like this, baby" he panted softly as he mumbles against the smooth calf of your leg.

He pounded balls deep into you quickly, watching your slick lips squelch around his cock as the sounds of wet slapping skin echoed softly in the bathroom.

It was just too much for him. Your perfectly drenched pussy hugging his cock beautifully, his balls smacking around your ass cheeks, your breasts jiggling to his rhythm.

It all overwhelmed him, bringing him to finally cum heavily into your womb.

Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him of every single drop until he had to force him to pull out from the oversensitivity of it.

A couple of strands of his pearly white cum squirted over your lips as he gave his final couple strokes to his sensitive tip, aimed at your gaping pussy hole to fill it to the brim.

He smirked proudly as he admired his white load inside your cunt, overflowing like a waterfall from your used pussy and down to your pulsing asshole.

"You're gonna keep this pussy just like this, alright?" he smiled darkly as he gently moved your lacy black panties to cover your cunt and soak in all your - and his - juices.

"No cleaning up. I want to feel it when you walk around out there."

#david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #jake gyllenhaal #detective loki #detective david loki #detective loki x reader #detective loki smut #david loki prisoners

[luxaofhesperides]

For ghost lights prompts: eldritch/creepy/weird Danny + shy/flustered Duke + hand holding

Your ghostlights fics are giving me so much joy RN I cannot express how much, if this prompt doesn't spark a brain worm for it I get it but I'm excited to read all the others you may wind up posting

There’s a new kid at West Robinson High School. 

This normally wouldn’t be a big deal. They get plenty of new students, being an average high school; not prestigious like Gotham Academy, but not terrible like some of the schools in the lower South Side. New kids are hardly anything to make note of, but something about this student has everyone paying attention to him.

It’s not charisma. The guy doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not attractiveness, because no one really knows what he looks like under the tattered hoodie he wears all the time. It’s not curiosity, not really, because the student body moves around him like he’s dangerous, not like they want to pry all his secrets out into the open. 

It doesn’t help that Duke sees things around him. 

He considers briefly telling someone about it, but then remembers having to argue for returning to West Robinson High School instead of being put in Gotham Academy and decides that Bruce can continue to mind his own business. It’s not like this new kid has done anything bad (yet) and Duke can handle investigating this on his own.

So he watches, catching glimpses of the new kid—Danny Fenton—in hallways during passing period, hiding away at lunch, disappearing into the streets as soon as the school day is over. They even share a class together, French Language and Culture, but Danny is always in the back corner, ignored and made invisible by everyone else. 

Well. That’s not quite true. 

There are shadowy figures that surround Danny and they never leave him alone. Even when he’s got his arms folded on his desk, head down, looking as if he’s asleep, these figures pull at the hood covering his head or reach semi-transparent hands down to pet his hair. And Danny reacts to them, lightly batting their hands away or turning his head away from them.

Duke has no idea what they are. Ghosts are his best guess, but he can’t confirm it. As far as he knows, ghosts are magic and can only be seen by magic users, which Duke very much is not. They do lead to cold spots, keeping the temperatures noticeably colder around Danny, and make the shadows darker, which only makes other students more nervous about being near Danny. 

Through his week of observing Danny, beyond the ghostly figures and visible unease he causes in everyone, what Duke learns is that Danny is lonely. 

No one talks to him. People barely look at him. Teachers avoid calling on him when they can. 

And Danny accepts it. He fades into the background, keeps out of the way, shrinks in on himself. 

No one else sees it. No one else wants to see him.

It’s breaking Duke’s heart, just a little bit.

He’s lucky that he’s not an outcast at school. With his meta gene awakening and his free hours taken up by Bats and fighting crime, it’s hard to have much of a social life, but he still has a few friends during the school hours he can hang out with. Danny doesn’t have anyone, and the more Duke sees how isolated he is, the more upset he becomes.

Which brings him to step two of his investigation: befriend Danny.

So what if he has some ulterior motives! He also just wants to give this guy someone to hang out with! What little glimpses of Danny’s face he’s able to get show him a tired teenager, worn down the way Alley kids are when they’re at the end of their rope and have nothing left to give.

Duke’s first attempts at befriending Danny fail so fast it’s almost funny. It’s as if Danny knows when someone is seeking him out, because every time Duke goes to where he is, Danny up and disappears, hurrying away and vanishing in the crowded hallways, or in the alley a few buildings past the school, or into the fucking restroom, which is always empty when Duke goes in after him. Trying to use his powers to see where Danny goes next doesn’t help either; all he sees is some glowing figure resembling Danny walk through walls, which is either due to Danny being a meta or from Duke’s powers deciding to be unhelpful.

He’s about to resort to Tim level stalking to finally have a conversation with Danny when his French teacher blessedly (and unknowingly) aids him on his mission.

“Find a partner, everyone!” she instructs with a clap of her hands near the end of class. “This is a translation project, and you’ll be doing them in pairs to check each other’s work and decide how to best interpret something into English. If you don’t have a partner in the next minute, tell me and I’ll assign you someone.”

The class is a flurry of movement just as the last word leaves her mouth, friends turning to each other or running across the room to make sure they’re partnered up before anyone else can butt in. 

No one looks at Danny. Which means Duke can just skirt along the wall of the classroom until he’s next to Danny, gently knocking on his desk to get his attention.

Danny looks up, and Duke sees a flash of blue before Danny averts his gaze, tilting his head down again. “Yeah?” he says, and his voice is much softer than what Duke imagined. He expected something hoarse and rough, a little deep, intimidating. Instead, it’s gentle and quiet and smooth. 

It’s a nice voice. It’s a shame that no one else has really heard it.

“Wanna be partners?” he asks, as if he’s offering a choice. They both know no one else is going to ask Danny, and if he wants to avoid talking to the teacher, then he has to work with Duke.

Danny sighs. “Sure.” 

And then he puts his head back down on the desk. 

Duke backs off. This is the best he’s going to get right now. Now that he’s got an excuse to spend time with Danny, he can take his time breaking down his walls and getting to know him. He watches as a figure from the usual group that hangs around Danny breaks away and gently brushes a hand against Danny’s arm. Then they turn to Duke and reach for him.

He moves without thinking, stepping out of the way. The shadowy figure fades back, almost invisible even to his eyes, and Danny’s turned his head to lay his piercing gaze on Duke.

…There’s no way that blew his cover, right? 

He didn’t just reveal one of his meta abilities from taking a single step to the side. No way. 

But Danny’s eyes are a deep blue that seem almost endless as he keeps his attention on Duke. It feels as if he’s staring into Duke, seeing more than what he wants to reveal. 

“Alright, looks like everyone’s found a partner! As you head out, be sure to grab a practice packet from my desk to work on some translation. There are due the next time we meet, and I will be handing out your individual passages once these have all been turned in.” Their teacher sets a large stack of papers onto the corner of her desk, then gets to work erasing the whiteboard just as the bell rings. 

Students grab their bags and rush to take one of the packets before heading out to their final class of the day. Duke stays behind with Danny, waiting for most of the class to leave before swinging his backpack onto his shoulder and grabbing a packet for both of them.

He hands one to Danny, who takes it with some hesitancy and a quiet, “Thanks.”

He leaves before Duke does, and though it’s only a second between his leaving and Duke stepping out the door, Danny’s already vanished from sight.

As soon as school ends, Duke heads for the Hatch, hoping a quick evening patrol will help clear his mind. It’s a quiet evening, though, so he’s left with his thoughts more often than not, staring out over the city long enough that Oracle asks him if he’s alright.

Against his better judgment, he says, “I’ve been looking into something, but I’m not finding much. Can you do some research on Danny Fenton?”

Oracle is already typing before he finishes asking. “What am I looking for?”

“Anything. He’s… strange. I don’t know if he’s a meta or just lightly haunted. But there’s something up with him.”

“Do we need to be keeping a closer eye on him?”

Duke considers. None of them ask Oracle to look into specific people unless they’re dangerous. But danger is not the sense Duke gets from Danny. It’s more like he’s hiding, shying away from the world, constantly on edge. “No. If anything, he might be in danger. Something happened to him, because no one ends up like that by living an average life.”

“I’ll let you know what I find. Turn in for the night, it’s quiet out and you’re too distracted to patrol properly.”

“You got it, O.” He salutes the nearest camera, knowing she’ll see it, and makes his way back to the Hatch to change back into civies and get started on his homework.

When he next goes into his French classroom, all the desk has been rearranged so they’re all in pairs, side by side. Already, patterns are filling up the desks, so Duke heads for the back and sits down where Danny usually hides away. He’s not here yet, which is making Duke realize that he’s never actually seen Danny walk into the classroom and head to his seat.

Did he just never pay attention? Has Danny always just slipped in unnoticed until attendance was taken? How did Duke miss that?

There’s movement in the desk next to him. Duke goes to say that he’s waiting for his partner, so please sit somewhere else, when he realizes that it’s Danny who managed to sneak in yet again.

“Hey,” he says after a moment, hoping his surprise is hidden.

There’s a pause, and then Danny returns, “Hey, Duke.”

That’s all they have time for before class is starting and their teacher goes around to collect homework. She then hands out new packets, each one a different section of L’Ecume des Jours, and gives them the rest of class to begin working on translating it. 

Duke is already dreading it as he flips through the three pages they were given to translate, stapled to each other beneath the two page instructions of how to format the final translation, how to document their previous translation drafts, and what to include in the reflection essay. 

There’s no way he can get all of this done in a week. 

On the other hand, it gives him a week to learn more about Danny. He needs to make the most of it.

“This is a lot,” he comments, hoping to prod Danny into conversation.

Danny shrugs.

“Can we work on this together after school today? Or do you have plans?”

“We can work on it today,” Danny says, voice barely louder than a whisper. He’s already scanning the pages, underlining certain words and phrases. 

Duke hurries to get to work as well, trying to parse out meaning from the text through single words scattered on the page. 

Qu’est-ce que vous faites dans la vie, vous? 

J’apprends des choses, dit Colin. Et j’aime Chloé. 

Duke nods to himself. He definitely doesn’t know French. Well, he knows qu’est-ce que. He knows vous. He know j’apprends and j’aime Chloé. Also dit Colin. Fairly simple, but with the missing pieces to the rest of those sentences, he really doesn’t know what’s going on beyond the fact that it’s a conversation and Colin loves Chloé.

When he glances at Danny’s desk, he’s shocked to see that his partner is already translating the first few lines into something that reads like normal English.

“Oh, wow,” he says, leaning over to get a better look, “You’re definitely better at this than I am.”

“I just like languages,” Danny replies, turning his paper so Duke can read it more easily.

“Have you been hiding your French skills this entire time? I could have definitely used your help before this.”

Danny goes still for a moment, eyes flicking towards his right where a shadowy figure has placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he turns to fully face Duke and says, “Better late than never. What do you need help with?”

“Everything.”

His immediate answer makes Danny smile, and he begins talking in that soft, soothing voice of his. He talks about not trying to translate everything into English immediately, but to understand the French and take it in as a whole language itself. He talks about getting the idea of the text first, the feeling of it, before trying to fit it into English. He talks about splitting up the text into sections to make it easier.

And then he reads the text, entirely in French, and Duke did not have a thing for voices or multilingualism before this, but he sure does now.

“Qu’est-ce que vous faites dans la vie, vous?” Danny reads, reaching the end of the first page. The syllables come to his easily, his French smooth and steady. “J’apprends des choses, dit Colin.” His eyes dart up, off the page, and fix Duke in place. “Et j’aime Chloé.”

Duke has never been happier that he doesn’t blush so visibly with his dark skin because he feels downright romanced. It’s a mix of the French, of Danny’s addictive voice, of their closeness, of how intimate this dark corner of the room feels, tucked away from the rest of the class.

“We can work on the other pages after we finish translating this one,” Danny says, leaning back at bit. 

Duke nods, swallowing to chase away the dryness of his throat. “Sounds like a plan!” 

They work in silence for the rest of the class period, and once the bell rings, Danny says, “I’ll wait for you by the bus stop down the street,” before he slips out of reach and disappears into the throng of students heading to their last class. 

He’s beginning to think that he’s in way over his head. Duke can handle being in the middle of all the action, risking his life, fighting for others. He can handle staring down rogues and criminals and Gnomon. He can’t handle feelings and romance and other such things. Those are much scarier than a criminal shooting at him. At least with the criminal, he knows what to do and doesn’t just freeze up like he did with Danny.

The school day ends faster than he’s prepared for. As promised, Danny waits for him by the bus stop down the street, where other students are also waiting. 

They don’t wait for a bus, though. Danny just meets his eyes and begins walking away, leaving Duke to follow after him, matching his pace so they can walk side by side.

The shadows in the alleyway seem to reach towards them as they walk down it. Something about it doesn’t feel right, so Duke tries to quietly use his powers and force them back. 

He only has time to think, Oh, that was a bad idea, before Danny is shoving him against the wall, getting them both out of the way as a shadow solidifies and lashes out at them. He’s kept in place by strong hands on his chest, and Danny’s eyes are glowing lightly as he hisses at the shadows, making them rear back and settle down once more. 

As if given permission to reveal themselves, more shadowy figures and strange movements in the shadows emerge, surrounding them. 

“Danny, I don’t mean to alarm you, but—”

“I know,” Danny says. “I thought you might be able to see them too. Which is not good.”

“Sorry, man, it’s not like I can turn it off.”

“It’s fine. Just be more careful. They like me because I’m like them, but you just register as a threat. Either that, or prey.”

“Great,” Duke replies weakly, “Those are my favorite things to be. Are we… are we safe to move?”

Slowly, Danny steps back, no longer pressed right against Duke. Nothing moves to attack him, but it might be due to the glare fixed on Danny’s face, eyes still glowing.

“They’ll leave me alone, so…” He reaches a hand out, looking away. The hoodie isn’t able to hide the way his cheeks go red. “Don’t let go and we’ll be fine.”

“I hope this isn’t to lead me to my doom,” Duke jokes nervously as he accepts Danny’s hand, holding it tightly. 

Danny wiggles his fingers, making him loosen his grip, and then their fingers are lacing together. Duke stares down at their hands, wide eyed, and hopes he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels. 

“Not to your doom,” Danny reassures. “Just a coffee shop I thought you’d like.”

“Well, then, lead the way!”

“Allons-y,” Danny replies. 

Stealing glances at him as they walk, ghostly figure and shadow shrinking away from them, all Duke can think is that he doesn’t need to worry about Danny being evil. His immediate instinct to protect Duke has proved that. He’ll keep the investigation going, though, to make sure Danny is safe from others that could hurt him. 

Strange and unsettling as he may be, Danny’s also a smart, kind person who deserves more.

Duke is determined to make sure he gets it.

And if he gets a crush along the way, that’s his business and his business only. 

It looks like Step Two: Befriend Danny is finally complete. He’ll figure out the other steps later. For now, he has an evening of French in a coffee shop to look forward to.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #im glad youre enjoying my ghostlights fics so much!!! im having a blast writing them #thank u for giving me more propaganda to spread for the ghostlights agenda <3 #this could easily continue into a much larger fic that goes into danny relocating to gotham for his protection #and start mixing in dc's spirit world with danny phantom's ghost zone/infinite realms #its kinda two stories in one tbh #1: danny trying to protect his kind classmate from ghosts and gotham spirits leading to supernatural shenanigans #2: duke trying to protect this clearly hurt and lonely person which leads to getting him accidentally roped into superhero shenanigans #both are the protagonists of a ya novel where they stumble into a secret for the sake of protecting one person #idk if im getting that across well but if u know the vibes then u know what im talking abt

[frissy]

Earth42! Miles Morales x fem!spider/1610!Reader

(Part 1) Part 2

MAJOR ATSV SPOILERS

• Earth 1610 Miles Morales

• You are also a spider person on Earth 1610 with Earth 42 spider DNA like Miles

• Takes place right before, and when Miles (and you) are sent to Earth 42

• possessive Earth 42 Miles

• You and Earth 1610 Miles are not in a romantic relationship

• mentions of death, guns, and blood

• violence

• angst and fluff

• some OOC Earth 42 Miles

• not proofread

Let’s do this.. one more time. Hey, I’m [name] from Earth 1610. You’ve heard the story before, I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for over a year, I’ve been one of Brooklyn’s spider-people, along with my best friend, Miles Morales.

We keep the peace in the city, and we protect it. but.. sometimes it’s hard. Keeping our normal lives balanced with our crime fighting lives… but somehow, we still find time for each other. . End of introduction….

.

.

.

.

.

“DON’T LET THEM LEAVE. THEY CAN’T LEAVE.” Miguel O’Hara was shouting out at every other spider person trying to get to you and Miles.

It turns out, you guys were anomalies. You weren’t supposed to be spider-people.

But the chasing was no use, you two already made it to the machine that could send you home.

Somehow, you two managed to get inside as the almost mechanic-looking-spider began to crawl from the celling and read your DNA and build a web around you two to send you home.

But Miguel lunged over, clawing at the web, almost breaking it. He was trying to get to you and Miles. But it was no use. The avatar, who responsible for the machine looked at you and Miles with sympathy. And she pressed the ‘yes’ button to send you home. .

.

.

.

You both were shot onto a roof of an apartment complex. The one that Miles lived in. However he was lucky, and ended up near his room. .

Meanwhile you were shot out onto the roof, hitting your head. On concrete, which knocked you out. .

.

with miles…

.

“Miles?” A familiar voice echoed. Entering his room. It was his mom! .

“Mom!” He walked over to her. “what did you do to your hair?”

“nothing? Mom. I have to tell you something. But you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Of course Miles. What is it?”

“you’ll still love me, right?”

“yes of course. Now what is it?”

Miles took a deep breath.

“Mom.. I’m Spider-Man.”

… “who’s Spider-Man?”

his stomach dropped. He tried explaining to her.. but she was brushing him off.

“So, you shoot webs out your butt?” She laughed. “No.. but I did have a nightmare about that once—“

He heard the apartment door open. He felt sick. Even more sick when he heard his voice.

it was his uncle Aaron… but how.

He couldn’t understand what his mom and uncle Aaron were talking about. He was in shock. But Aaron noticed him.

“Miles. Lets go.”

“oh.. okay.” Miles left his room. Walking with his.. uncle out of the apartment onto the roof.

.

.

.

Meanwhile…

.

“ah.. fuck.” You groaned, standing up. You couldn’t believe you got knocked out like that. You rubbed your head.. then you looked up.

Brooklyn was in shambles. .

Then it all clicked. This, this was not your earth.

You remembered Miguel’s words. .

“BECAUSE OF YOU TWO, THERE’S AN EARTH OUT THERE WITH NO SPIDER-MAN TO PROTECT IT.” .

How stupid could you and Miles have been? The machine reads the spider DNA.

the spider was from Earth 42… not 1610. You were mortified by this Earth’s Brooklyn. .

But it got worse. So much worse. You turned around.. facing a giant brick wall. Miles’s dad was staring right back at you. .

But your own face was looking right back at you too. .

You felt like passing out again. .

You were dead, you were dead in this universe. .

The door to the roof open. Put came Miles… and Aaron. He looked just as mortified as you. Seeing Brooklyn, and the mural.

That’s when you felt a sharp ping in your neck, and the last thing you heard was,

“I TOLD YOU TO WAIT!”

Your body didn’t hit the ground.. someone had caught you in their arms.

.

.

“I told you to wait for my signal.” Aaron said looking at his nephew, who held you as if you were as delicate as porcelain.

Who held you how he would always do.

Aaron had Miles slumped over his shoulder.

“I know. Unc.. but couldn’t help it.” .

Aaron sighed, and looked at his nephew who’s looked at your unconscious, breathing figure as if he had just found something that had been lost for a long time.

he looked at you, barely whispering, putting a hand on your cheek. “Mi querida..”

Aaron sighed at his behavior.

“That’s not your girl.” Aaron told his nephew, “Remember that.” He said, pointing at the mural behind him.

.

Miles didn’t reply. Instead he brought your body closer to him, and held you tighter.

He wanted to feel the ride and fall of your chest.

He wanted to hear your breathing.

And doing that, he felt something he hasn’t felt in so long. .

“I know she’s not my girl.” Miles replied. His voice was shaky and he didn’t take his eyes off you. .

But I can make her my girl.

He thought to himself.

.

.

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED….

#angst #miles morales #jefferson morales #rio morales #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #oneshot #loss of a loved one #tw mention of crime #earth 42 #miguel o'hara #spider man #earth 1610 #I love Earth 42 Miles so much Omg #miles morales 42 #prowler miles

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 16: Sex pollen

Pairing: Denji x male reader

This guy

Summary: The lust devil infects you two with spores or whatever, making even more horny than usual.

Warnings: Rampant horniness, kissing, dry humping, smashing, doggy style, public area? taking Denji's virginity, dub con? Sex pollen DUH

Word count: 1104

It should have just been a normal mission; you and Denji (mostly Denji) would kill a devil and be done with it, but not this time. You were just normally going on patrol, you weren't even a devil hunter, but you liked the company of Denji, as if you wanted him inside of you. You two had just been walking in a random abandoned warehouse, quite roomy, which probably added to the eeriness. You were talking about random shit, hot people, Makima, smash or pass with devils, who would take care of power if either of you were to die, everyday things. That was all until you were randomly attacked by a devil.

Before either of you could have the time to react, the air began to fill with red mist, it smelled like roses, how pleasant. It clouded your vision, you couldn't even see Denji who was right in front of you, and then suddenly you heard a voice.

"I wish I could stay and watch dinner and a show, but I must be off, sorry." The voice was alluring and high pitched, it sounded like a stereotypical gay man in fact (I imagine the lust devil to sound like a homosexual). Then, just as quickly as the devil arrived, it was gone.

"What the fuck do they mean by that?" You asked, the mist clearing up, almost as if it left with the devil.

"I don't fucking know!" Denji honestly answered, just as confused as you are. For a while you just sat there in your confusion, until your pants started to feel unbelievably tight.

"Do you also feel a little weird?" You asked Denji, not much of a question since you could clearly see his red face, drool starting to collect in his mouth. He looks over at you, giving you a tunnel stare.

"I don't know." He said, slowly walking closer and closer to you. You stay still, trying to figure out what is going on. Denji doesn't have the same concern, the only thing he can think of is getting rid of the overwhelmingly painful hardship he has.

You notice the incredible tent in his pants, you try to think about how or why this is happening, but you can't take your eyes off his clothed dick, and thus can't take your mind off of it.

"What are you doing?" You asked, already having a thought on what was on his mind, which is probably the same thing that's on yours, hard core smashing.

"I don't know." He responds again, finally face to face with you.

You two just stand there, looking longingly into each other's eyes, before Denji finally makes a move, putting his lips on yours, giving in to the over empowering temptation. You can't talk though, instantly reciprocating these emotions, kissing him back.

His lips are surprisingly soft, moving with yours perfectly. You both stay like this, until only kissing isn't enough to satiate your desires.

Your hand goes to rub Denji's already painfully hard clothed cock, you even feel it throb in your hand. His hand goes to grab your ass and then he starts to rub his covered dick with yours, his rubbing becomes so aggressive that it causes both of you to fall over, him being on top of you, just like he wanted.

Denji continued his dry humping, while also kissing you more passionately, his tongue swirling around with yours. You moan into the kiss, his dry humping getting quicker as he tries to chase his release. Sadly, just rubbing his cock on yours simply isn't enough, he needs the full experience.

You notice his hard thrusts and offer your own help, putting your hand in his pants to rub it raw. He starts groaning at the sensation, as his hand does the same with your member, rubbing it without precision or technique.

Denji stops jerking you off, opting to take off his clothes and get straight to the point, showing you his glorious cock. It's about average length, but incredibly girthy, he also has a lot of pubes, looking as if he never trims. You follow suit, removing your clothing as well. You two go back to kissing each other, this time roughly, pure tongues and teeth clashing together, wanting, no, needing to be as close to one another as possible.

"Hands and knees." He ordered, in which you quickly obey, doing exactly as he says. You look back at him, waiting for him to enter you, needing to feel him inside.

He does what you wish, giving one quick kiss before finally entering your ass. Slowly but surely, he makes his way in, his large girth making it slightly difficult to fit all the way in. It takes a while but eventually he does make it all the way through.

He gives you little to no time to adjust, wanting to have this burning sensation go away. You're not complaining though, wanting the same thing.

His thrusts are uncontrolled but effective nonetheless, causing a moan out of you every now and then as he ruthlessly hits you from the back. Denji even let's out a groan or two, loving how tight your hole is, almost as if you two were made to fuck each other.

He leans down and puts his bare chest on your back, wanting more skin-on-skin contact, which is why he also starts rubbing your dick. The sensation of this added on to his attack at your ass makes you an official moaning mess.

He uses his other hands to grab your face so he can kiss you, wanting your lips on his again. Your mouth is already open so he can have full access to your tongue. The kiss is feral, saliva spilling into each other's mouths, down your chins, and onto the floor, teeth clashing together as you two just can't get enough of the other.

His kiss, hand, and dick work perfectly together to make you cum, which is exactly what you do, spilling all over the abandoned building's floor. Denji follows closely, dumping a massive load in your ass, some even spilling out onto the floor.

The burning sensation is finally gone for both of you. Though you notice that Denji's dick is still hard. Denji then notices the cum spilling out of your ass and puts on your underwear.

"I want it to stay there, until we can go somewhere and do this again." He said sensually.

"Where?" You asked, putting the rest of your clothes back on.

"As soon as possible." He replied, doing the same.

Thank you random devil mist.

THE END

#csm #csm smut #reader #reader smut #male reader #male reader smut #csm x reader #csm x reader smut #csm x male reader #csm x male reader smut #anime #anime smut #anime x reader smut #anime x male reader #anime x male reader smut #anime x reader #x reader #x reader smut #x male reader #x male reader smut #denji #denji smut #denji x reader #denji x male reader smut #denji x reader smut #denji x male reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x reader smut