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#i didn't think it could get any more fucked up but this is unbelievable
rowarn · 4 months
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afab!reader, keegan fucking up into you, creampie <3
for the anon who wanted keegan content after PLM 🫡 i didn't forget about u
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there was something you absolutely loved about being pressed against keegan. When he was laid back against the bed, you in his lap, his strong arms wrapped around you and pinning your chest against his. 
you were already drooling against his bare shoulder from the way he was slowly rutting his hips up, his feet braced against the bed so he could get the most leverage. his blunt nails bite into your skin but you hardly even notice the burning sensation. 
“fuck,” he finally speaks, that deep, raspy voice sending heat straight to your core, “needed this. needed you all fuckin’ day.”
“kee…” you can’t help but whimper, lashes fluttering when the tip of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside. 
you don’t have the room or movement freedom to look between your bodies to see the mess you’re making all over him but you can feel it. you can feel the slick slide of your thighs against his hips and you can hear the gooey, sticky noises that your pussy makes when he slides inside you. 
your clit rubbed against the firm plane of his stomach every time his hips met your ass. you were jostled, easily rocked to his rhythm and you loved every second of it. 
“so sweet,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “bein’ so good for me.”
you keen under his praise, heat flushing to your cheeks when you involuntarily clench down around him. you know he feels it too, in the way he grunts and chuckles under his breath.
he adjusts his grip on you and you barely even have time to prepare yourself before he fucks up into you hard. 
you yelp when the tip of his cock knocks against your cervix. it hurts but it’s not anything new – keegan’s got a nice, long cock and you’ve come to enjoy that sweet pang of pain. 
he shushes you softly when you cry out but he doesn’t hold back. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and underneath your cries of pleasure you can hear the wet sound of your cunt swallowing every inch of his cock. 
the sounds he makes are quiet, easily missed under the volume of your own cries but you hear them nonetheless. and they’re lovely. keegan isn’t very vocal so you soak up any little sounds he supplies you. you’ve dreamt of pinning him down and riding him until he has no choice but tho cry out and moan for you. but you know that’s just a pipe dream because keegan is always in charge and has more self control than you think one could ever have. 
it just made the sounds he gave you all the more precious.
another thing about keegan was his unbelievable stamina. even supporting your weight, doing all the work to fuck his pretty cock up into your sweet little cunt, he wasn’t even out of breath. you were a mess – panting, moaning, drooling, and crying from how well he fucked you. every thrust was well-aimed to that gooey little spot deep inside you that only keegan was able to reach. 
pleasure fogged your brain, with your pussy stuffed nice and full, getting fucked just right and your clit grinding against him with every movement, you couldn’t even think properly beyond him. his name fell from your lips like a mantra, music to his ears. 
“g-gonna cum,” you manage to babble out between pleasured huffs. 
“i know,” he grunts, hand cupping the back of your neck in a firm grip, to keep you pinned against him. he loved the feeling of you drooling all over him, fucked nice and dumb all for him. he knew your body like the back of his hand, recognized the sweet breaks in your voice, the tight, wet clutching of your cunt, and the way your pretty body trembled and twitched in his hold. 
“keegan!” you cry, raking your nails down his skin as your feet kick up and slam back down to the bed, the stimulation becoming too much the higher you’re pushed to your orgasm. 
“yeah, baby,” he grunts from effort as he fucks you deeper and harder, working to get you over that edge, “i’m right here, babydoll. go ahead and cum for me, fuck.”
and you do. 
clutching at him and crying out in pure pleasure as you cream a sweet little mess around his cock. he imagines pulling out and seeing your cum covering his cock, imagines making you get on your knees and clean him up as thank you for fucking you so well. the image makes him moan, his own eyes rolling back in his head. his cock twitches and throbs in the heat of your twitching pussy and before you even come down, he’s filling you with his load. 
getting to creampie you is a  nice little reward for working hard all day and coming home to you <3
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fictionalmenmakemecry · 3 months
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Pretty Little Outfit
Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)
Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.
Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.
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A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.
Anyway.. my rant is done!
Enjoy :)
"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.
You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.
You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.
You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.
You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.
"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.
You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.
You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.
You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.
"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.
His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.
Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.
You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.
Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.
He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.
The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.
He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.
You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.
"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.
You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.
"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.
The more he stared, the shyier you got.
"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.
"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"
You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.
A small smirk crept up on your face.
Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.
You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.
"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.
He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.
You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.
With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.
He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.
You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.
"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.
He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.
"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously
His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.
"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.
"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.
You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.
A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.
He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.
"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.
"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.
"But-"
"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.
He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.
His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.
"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.
You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.
He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.
"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.
"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.
One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.
Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.
You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.
Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.
Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.
"Use me." He breathed out
You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.
"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.
"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.
He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.
A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.
Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.
His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.
"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.
You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.
You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.
He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.
With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.
You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.
"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.
He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.
"Carrmmyy-"
"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.
You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.
"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.
He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.
You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.
"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.
He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.
As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.
The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.
Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.
As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.
"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.
"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.
You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.
"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,
"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.
"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.
"Uh.. Most likely"
He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.
"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.
"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling
A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.
"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.
He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.
You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.
"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.
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inkskinned · 11 months
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one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.
but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.
this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.
at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.
the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?
did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".
sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."
sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.
sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.
it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.
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bigwishes · 9 months
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Tummy Trouble
Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.
Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.
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Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.
"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm
Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.
"eer, hey man"
"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"
"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym
"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"
"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"
"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"
Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.
"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof
"a guy like me?"
"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."
The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"
Connor let out a sigh of relief
"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"
"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"
"I think I got something for you mate, here"
The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.
"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.
Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.
----------------
Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.
Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.
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Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...
"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"
Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.
Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.
"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"
*FWOOOMP
Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.
"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"
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Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.
He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.
Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.
Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.
Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.
His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.
"oh...god...whats happeneing now"
each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse
"I....god what the fuck"
A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.
"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"
Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.
"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"
the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.
"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...
-----------------------------------
I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.
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tojjist · 3 months
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“At Least” S. Gojo
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☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
☆ wc : 5.6k
☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
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“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
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“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”
“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”
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He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
“Gojo-San?”
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
“Are you okay? You seemed off.”
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.
“Spring break? Why so soon?”
“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”
“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.
“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”
“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.
“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 
Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 
You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
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“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”
"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”
“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”
“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”
“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”
“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”
“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”
“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.
“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”
“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.
“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”
From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”
“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”
Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”
“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”
27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?
“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.
“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 
But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”
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“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”
“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”
“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”
You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 
He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”
“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 
“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 
“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.
“All good things, I hope-“
“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”
“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 
“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.
“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”
“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 
“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.
“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after
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You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”
He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.
“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.
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“nngh..”
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.
“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”
“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”
“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”
“Huh?”
You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 
He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.
“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 
“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”
You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”
“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“
“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.
“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 
There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
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navybrat817 · 10 months
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A little steam to power you through your Monday?
I barely made it, but I will take him. And a little something because I appreciate you.
Strike a Pose
Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You get a front row seat to your roommate's latest photoshoot, which happens to feature your boyfriend.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: K-I-S-S-I-N-G, college AU, nicknames, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)
A/N: A little more Titan and Starshine that no one asked for!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You were a bit surprised when your roommate, Roxy, messaged you to come to her recent photoshoot. A photography major who captured exquisite images, she was hardly ever without her camera. But she typically didn't ask you to show up for a session unless she specifically told you she planned to take photos of you. She hadn't in this case. She also ambushed you at the door of the studio and you wondered what was going on.
"Is everything okay?" you asked as she ushered you inside. 
"Just fine, but wait. Before you go any further," she replied, stopping you before you could take another step. "Did you talk to Bucky this afternoon?"
You raised an eyebrow and tried to get a read on why she was asking. You didn't go a day without talking to him and it still made you giddy that he usually reached out first. "Yeah, we're supposed to meet up in an hour. Why?"
"You know how I'm doing an athletic spread for my next project?" she asked before you nodded. "Well, one of my 'models' got sick today and I bumped into Steve and I asked if he wouldn't mind me taking some photos of him and he also suggested Bucky and-"
"They both agreed?" you guessed. It made sense that she asked. Steve and Bucky, especially with his boxing background, were both in amazing shape and certainly had the looks of models.
"They did. Steve should be here in a bit, so it's just Bucky and I for now."
You didn't feel a surge of jealousy or nervousness. There was no reason for it. "Unless you're hitting on Bucky, I don't see what the problem is," you teased. You trusted them and hoped you hadn't given either of them a reason to think you didn't.
"Hey! I take offense to that. I know he is your man and we both want you here," she huffed, making your heart flutter. Bucky Barnes was your guy. "He keeps looking at the door to make sure you're coming. He's down so bad for you."
That made your heart beat faster. He was waiting for you? "I was kidding about you hitting on him. I know you wouldn't do that," you assured her. You didn't want to hurt her feelings with a bad joke.
She flashed you a huge grin after a moment. "I know you were kidding. I was just giving you shit," she teased. Of course she was. "But speaking of your man, it is my duty as your roommate and friend to prepare you as much as I can: He's going to ruin your panties. I'm not kidding. Soaked. And it's only fair that as his girlfriend you should witness him in his glory before the film develops."
You almost sputtered as she practically dragged you further into the studio. "You act like I haven't seen Bucky... Fuck. Me."
"Right here, Starshine? I'm game if you are," Bucky winked.
Your boyfriend sat in the middle of the room surrounded by steam, looking the part of a young, modern king. It was unbelievable how he looked so commanding and he wasn't standing. Was it the sleeveless shirt that accentuated his muscular arms or the way.the light made his brown hair shine? Or was it confidence in his blue eyes as he unashamedly looked you up and down?
The whole package.
"Told you. Soaked panties," your roommate said as she checked her camera. "And for the record, I haven't seen Bucky fuck you, but if he keeps eye-fucking you like that, I just might."
"I can't help myself," Bucky said, licking his lips as he beckoned you closer with his finger. Your feet moved forward on their own accord. "She should be the one being photographed."
Your stomach did a funny flip. While you wouldn't say you lacked confidence, you wouldn't call yourself glamorous either. "I'm no model," you protested. 
"You could be," he said, taking your hand the second you were close enough. "You're so beautiful and I don't have enough pictures of you. It isn't fair. You're depriving me."
"You're ridiculous," you giggled before he pulled you into his lap. "This is an athletic photoshoot."
"Should we show her how you can put your legs behind your-"
"No!" you giggled more. 
"Okay," he chuckled, bumping his nose against yours. "But you really could be a model if you wanted to. Or maybe a ring girl."
"You'd let me walk around the ring in a bathing suit with no objection?" you asked, knowing Bucky would support you if you really wanted to. Lucky for you, he was the right kind of possessive boyfriend. He treated you with respect instead of like an object. 
"I would because I know you're leaving with me at the end of the night, Starshine," he said.
"Whatever you say, Titan."
You inhaled when he gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. Your cheeks were so hot you were shocked you didn't burst into flames. You could try and blame it on the steam, but it was all him. 
Your Titan.
"Wait! Hold that pose!" Roxy ordered. "Ahh! This might be my best shoot yet!"
With Bucky as her model, you knew it would be. 
You paid no attention to the camera going off as you continued to gaze at Bucky. Beneath the flirty surface was tenderness in his eyes, a private moment amongst the flashing lights. Maybe you could get Roxy to make a couple of copies of the photos. One set for you and one set for him. 
"Now KISS!"  
And there was no hesitation when Bucky surged forward, capturing your lips in a devouring kiss. You moaned softly as he moved his tongue with yours in a heated dance, having to remind yourself that the two of you weren't alone. There was no way for you not to crave him though. 
Isn't that part of what young love is all about?
Except you hadn't said that word yet. 
Soon.
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Oh, these two. More of them here. 💙 Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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osachiyo · 7 months
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EXTRA CREDIT *ੈ✩‧₊˚ | wriothesley
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You knocked on the office door once, twice, a third time before you heard a brief 'come in!' You entered the room, trying your best to keep a straight face. Wriothesley was your history professor. He definitely wasn't bad bad, but not the most friendly man you've encountered. Though you had to admit, he was quite handsome− "ah, yes. I've been expecting you. have a seat," Wriothesley's deep voice pulled you out of the trance you were in. "a-ah! yes..sorry, I got a little..distracted," you chuckle awkwardly before taking a seat across the sleek black table. "so, um..I just wanted to talk about the C I got in the last history test?" He nods, urging you to speak further. "I know you said I won't be able to pass this class if I didn't at least get an A on my last test..so I wanted to ask if I could somehow earn some extra credits?" He sighed, cheek resting on his palm as he eyed you like a hawk. "extra credits, you say?" You nod, nervous to what he was going to say, you could not afford to fail this− "sure, I think you could do something for those extra credits."
Fat tears were dripping down your pretty face, mouth and throat stuffed with your professors unbelievably thick cock. Your makeup was running down in streaks down your face, that cute shade of pink lipgloss your wore this morning now staining his cock. He had your hair up in a makeshift ponytail− gripping the roots tight enough to leave a slight sting that makes you dizzy. "suuch a good fuckin' girl, yeah? you like havin' your professor's dick ruining that pretty little throat of yours?" he groaned, forcibly pulling your mouth off his dick before slapping it against your cheek, snickering at the way you hump against his shoe for some kind of relief on that poor, aching pussy.
He barely gave you time to catch a breath before slamming himself down your throat once again, making you gag around the thick shaft, your prettily done nails digging and scratching his muscular thighs but to no avail. He merely ground his shoe further onto your cunt, making your eyes go unfocused. "didn't even touch you and you're already so fuckin' wet?" he spits, hissing when you swallow around him, holy shit you were good at this. "ya sure you want the credits or just wanted to get dicked down by your professor?" he laughs before growling, thrusting into your mouth wildly. You tried your best not to use teeth or pass out from the lack of oxygen, but it felt so fucking good. "pretty pussy's droolin' all over my shoes...should I make you lick it clean after?" he scoffs, but you know he loved it.
It wasn't long before he came down your little throat with a guttural noise, head thrown back on his chair as his hips twitched. He looked down at you, cock still in your mouth as his release dripped down your chin. He clicked his tongue, panting as he pulled out of your mouth, "don't swallow. not yet, show me," his voice was strict, like time times he'd give lectures in class. You gathered most of his cum on your tongue before opening your mouth, showing off the white on your tongue proudly. He could feel his cock twitch back to life. Smiling, he patted your hair down, "good girl, swallow." You happily obliged, it was slightly bitter but not bad.
You were about to leave after fixing yourself when− "I'll be expecting you in my office much more often."
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©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡
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formosusiniquis · 5 months
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any cosmo girl would have known
“Oh she did it for sure.”
“Steve!”
“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”
“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”
“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.
“I know it's an awful show.”
Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.
“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”
“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”
“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”
“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”
“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”
“You said you liked it!”
“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”
“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”
“You weren't into that? Look at who-”
“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”
“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.
“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”
Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”
“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”
“And press play,” Eddie shouts.
“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”
“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”
“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.
“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.
“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”
“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”
His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.
“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.
“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.
“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.
No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.
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alornights · 1 year
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⟢ habits
➜ in which ! they pick up your habits.
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💌 ﹫i. midoriya, s. todoroki, k. bakguou, h. sero n. monoma, y. shindo, h shinso.
✩ 🎸 warnings﹗none.
🍓 ⟡ notes — my first ever tumblr post. woah.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ IZUKU MIDORIYA — walking around in circles while listening to music.
found you in your dorm walking in circles with headphones in, eyes staring off into space, and your arms moving every so often.
he doesn't know what to think at first so he leaves you alone (he takes a video though for blackmail.)
next day he enters your dorm your doing it again right after an hour-long training session. and all he could think was 'what the fuck' and proceeds to start giggling like a madman.
after lots of laughs on one end and fake crying on the other, he finds out that you think better when walking around, and pair that with music, you're unstoppable.
after this you freely do this in his company and tbh, he finds it both hilarious but adorable especially with your hand movements.
he decided to try out for funsies and the amount of things that were solved and created in that hour of him walking around with music is unbelievable. so he continues.
and before he knew it, he was walking around the entire dorm for an hour straight listening to music while imagining himself in a multitude of scenarios that he'd never tell a soul.
has also embarrassed himself doing that. now he has to do multiple people favors so that shit isn't leaked.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SHOUTO TODOROKI — using hands to speak
when he first started talking to you he was overwhelmed whenever you talked because of your hand motions.
but as time when on he found it pretty cool because it just emphasized how you felt, and he liked that.
for example, the day you were ranting to him about some girl who bitched about you being fake and your hands were everywhere demonstrating how you could beat her up.
or when you're singing and would make all sorts of gestures that match the lyrics (he especially liked it when it was towards him)
he realizes that this could maybe help him express his emotions i little more after he had picked up your habit randomly one day.
used it on endeavor, the man was so confused and he was more focused on the hand motions than what the poor boy was saying.
also started using it around his friends, which went as well as it could've. because apparently, they had been using it a bit. he finally understands what they're trying to say now.
now you two have such fun ranting about things.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KATSUKI BAKUGOU — blankly staring at people.
i mean, it's not like he didn't do this already. but it intensified after getting with you and spending way to much time with you.
whenever someone said something that made you cringe, angry, or stunned, you would slowly turn to them with the blankest stare ever, unable to form any words.
it happened to him and he was so uncomfortable.
but when it happened to others it was the funniest thing to him.
would purposely make people say dumb shit and DO dumb shit just to see you stare and your victim's reactions.
and as time went on, he unconsciously started picking it up.
you thought people were uncomfortable or scared when you did it? now imagine you AND bakugou doing it together.
he doesn't know when or how he picked it up, all he knows is that he loves using it.
midoriya starts going on a rant about heroes? he shuts up the minute bakugou starts turning his head. denki is about to say yet another dumb thing? halfway he stops knowing the look he's gonna get.
he knows better to do it to you though. tried to doing a stare off but felt even more uncomfortable that before he got the habit.
he thanks you every day for making it one of his habits.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HANTA SERO — dancing to songs but the dance is from another song.
started when you were in his dorm and he was playing beyonce and out of nowhere you start doing the "tell me" dance. and it kept going. for every song. the same part of the dance on repeat.
it happens again during class when the class was practicing their dance skills for the festival and you just started doing a tiktok dance that somehow fits way too well with the song.
when asked all you could answer was "the beat matches."
so every time he watches you dance he somehow manages to remember the steps and unconsciously started doing the same thing as you.
got called out by his friends for doing a random kpop dance to a pitbull song when they were just hanging out.
he wants to cry and you cheer.
but he continues doing it anyways because its fun.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ NEITO MONOMA — cheeking food before eating it.
whether you're a picky eater or have allergies or just don't like certain foods, you decide to check your food always.
and monoma found that weird but interesting.
started checking your food for you whenever you couldn't and unconsciously checking his own food for both things he didn't like and things you didn't like.
was totally oblivious to this until his friends got annoyed every time he wanted to eat something of theirs.
hates but loves you for this now.
actually saved him one time at a restaurant where he checked his food and found something he was allergic to.
he thanked you so much after that !
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YO SHINDO — mumbling but making sure others hear.
when he first met you were mumbling a lot, and most of the time you weren't even trying to hide what you were saying.
"if you couldn't get into yuuei and had to go to a no-name hero school, no room to speak. at all."
everyone around wanted to beat the shit out of you, but shindo, he found it so funny that he started laughing like a maniac.
he found you so funny that he actively sought you out afterward and started hanging out with you. yes because your funny, but mostly to see people's reactions to your mumblings
especially loves it when you shit-talk people right to their face.
he's so very conscious that he picked up your habit and takes it with glee now that he can piss people off in a funnier way.
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HITOSHI SHINSO — playing with hands.
the day after you two became friends you randomly grabbed his hands and started playing with it and cracking his knuckles.
bro was star struck, never having been one to be affectionate.
was kind of uncomfortable with it at first but didn't really say anything because he didn't really care.
but then he started enjoying the way you played with his hands and then actively started playing with your hands.
then drawing on your hand, waving your hand around, using your fingers to type on his phone, almost bit your finger once...
he got so used to it that he forgets he's in public / in front of friends and will do whatever with your hands because he's bored.
almost did it to one of his classmates and he wanted to die.
hates you for that, but loves you for introducing it to him.
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noirvette · 1 year
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main 3 + butters! seeing reader in lingerie for the first time!!
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first time doing headcanons and a scenario 😋 also i apologize in advance if this is bad, i've written nsfw only ONCE before and hated it so much that i never finished it BAHAHA
cws: nsfw, but nothing too explicit Aged up characters! (College au, early 20s)
♡ STAN MARSH
Thinks he died and went to heaven for a second in all honesty. Like he could not believe you standing in front of him wearing lingerie.
He saw you with it on and had to process what he was seeing, definitely stuttering as he finds the words to say
He's rocking with it though, 100%. Has always had a small thing for lingerie but didn't exactly know how to bring it up so he just never said anything lol
Stan seems to me as a more of a red satin kind of guy, simple sets work for him
Doesn't want to tear it or anything, when taking it off of you he's rather careful, more so into savoring the moment of seeing you in lingerie (and eventually you out of it).
Whether its false bravado or not, he gets over his initial shock rather quickly
"You okay? Babe?" Stan calls out, sitting on the side of your bed tapping his fingers against the frame.
"Yeah sorry, coming out now," You respond, walking out of the bathroom, covered in a simple red satin lingerie set, "you like?"
"Holy shi-, wow you look good. Damn." Stan stutters out, taking you and your outfit in, "you, uh, you didn't have to do this you know. I'm- I'm, not saying you look bad, holy shit you look so good-"
"I know I didn't have to," You giggle, a blush covering your face, walking closer to him before sitting on his lap, "but I wanted this to be special, you know for our first time. I wanted to look good for you."
Stan licks his lips, reaching to kiss and bite at your neck as his hands grip your sides before they slowly make a descent down to your hips. "Well, you always look good, doesn't matter what you got on." His fingers tug at the waistband of the underwear, "but fuck, this is so hot."
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♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI
Doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know what to say either
Definitely whines/quietly whimpers at seeing you in lingerie though
He'd be a fan of dark green lace or floral sets
Another one to be careful with taking it off of you, but its because he's so nervous
Finds the concept of lingerie initially dorky until he sees you in it and now he understands the appeal.
He is so cute bro, he has the biggest blush covering his face and he stutters and he can't make eye contact (kicking my feet and giggling as I write this about him rn), definitely repeats words and phrases as his brain is trying to think of what to say next
Kyle covers his mouth, embarrassed at the whimper that leaves him as you lift up your shirt, revealing the dark green lingerie underneath. You feel him getting even harder underneath you and you slowly roll your hips against his. Kyle quickly grabs onto your hips hard and shakily moans, hands gripping you firmly.
"Baby, baby, baby.." Kyle whines out as he stares at how well the dark green compliments your body. "Mhmm," you hum, "what is it?"
"You look so good, so good.." He looks so dazed as his eyes constantly dart over your body. Kyle is absolutely smitten with the way the lingerie sits on you.
"You like it huh?" You whisper as your bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. He nervously swallows and turns his head to press a kiss into your hand, before gently biting a finger while looking up at you.
Turning his head back to face you, he whimpers out a "god yes," as his hips buck up up into you, drawing a small moan out of you, "so so much."
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♡ KENNY MCCORMICK
There is one singular phrase going through his head when he sees what you got on and it's "fuck me"
He's so unbelievably hard in like 2 seconds that it's alarming
He's a fan of sheer brighter colors and garters, but really any lingerie set looks good and he's really fine with anything you're putting on.
He'll rip the fabric off of you, he doesn't really care if you make a noise of complaint, he's too invested in getting him in you and making you feel good.
He'll make it up to you later by managing to get you another set later. (That he rips off you anyhow, it's a never ending cycle)
Would love to receive pictures of you in various lingerie sets. So after this whole thing of surprising him by wearing it for the first time, he'll want pictures of you from now on.
"Fuck y/n," Kenny groans, bucking himself against you, "you look so pretty. My pretty baby." His hands wander over your body, feeling the thin material and your skin causing him to become impatient.
Kenny leans forward to suck at your neck, causing you to let out small moans. "I need, need, this off of you. Now." Before you're able to say anything, he tugs at the top half a bit too roughly, ripping the thin material into halves.
"Kenny!" You exclaim, shock and annoyance evident in your tone.
Kenny stops briefly and he lets out a small laugh before kissing you, "I'm sorry hun, can't wait. Need you now. Gotta make you feel good."
You huff, "This was a bit pricey, Ken. How are you gonna make this one up?"
He snorts, before flipping you over and situating you so his face is pressed between your thighs, "Oh I'll make it up to you baby, and then some, promise."
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♡ BUTTERS STOTCH
Another blushy and nervous wreck to see you in lingerie.
I feel he'd LOVE white sets, design doesn't matter, but there's something about wearing white in his eyes that just.. gets him going yk?
He definitely has a battle with himself on where to place his hands. Do you want them on your waist, hips, do you want to hold hands? What if he rips the fabric?
Stutters out compliments. Compliments you the whole time actually, his eyes nervously watch your every movement
He loves if you brush your body still clad with the lingerie against his bare skin. The feeling of technical skin contact but thin material between you two has got him in a chokehold for some reason
Calls you his angel because of the white lingerie and how beautiful/ethereal you look to him right now
Butters believes this is how he dies, underneath you, clad in a sheer white lingerie set. You slowly drag your fingers against his skin and he finds himself without a single complaint as to how he would be dying. He finds himself without many thoughts actually and the ones he does have are just about you.
"Oh god angel," Butters shudders, his brain turning into mush at the feeling of your body against his. His hands hovering just above your thighs, as he nervously thumbs at the material draped over them.
You giggle at his behavior, "you can touch me, you know?"
"O-oh, I know honey, but, you.. you just look so gosh darn gorgeous and..." he trails off, adams apple bobbing as your drag your hands along his waist. "..and what, Butters..?" You whisper against his ear.
His hands grip your thighs and bites his lip. "I want you.. please honey, my angel." He shifts underneath you, hoping you catch the hint and quit teasing him.
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battydora · 8 months
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Hashiras when they want to have sex with you but you are on your period (minus Muichiro & Iguro). —♡
masterlist | pinned post | rules
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characters: tomioka giyuu , kocho shinobu , tengen uzui (+ wives) , rengoku kyojuro , mitsuri kanroji , shinazugawa sanemi , himejima gyomei
content: nsfw , gn. reader (afab) , adult reader!! , minors dni!! , period comfort , period sex , vaginal sex , unprotected sex , fingering , cunnilingus , implied size kink (gyomei) , brief references to the manga (giyuu)
note: iguro stans, i had the hardest time trying to write for him and i swear i couldn't i'm so sorry 😭. also shinobu's is so short damn, sorry i wrote that a year ago
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—Giyuu
being extremely honest, i think giyuu would be clueless about menstruation, he knew about it by briefly recalling the times her sister would complain superficially about it but he would need a whole explanation to understand, so you explain it to him to reassure him that you're okay and that you might need some things from him every now and then. when it comes to sex, he wouldn't be so sure to keep going if you're on your period but after he slides into you for the first time while you're menstruating, he'd find himself feeling more comfortable fucking you than any usual day, the blood and slickness of your cunt feels so unbelievably good he lets out a loud moan when he fits it all in. beyond the mess you may make, you two will have a lot of fun, giyuu moaning sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how good and comfortable you feel around his cock. he may get carried away just a little but expect great aftercare.
—Shinobu
she wouldn't mind at all! she takes things as usual and wouldn't mind not even a little bit fingering you while you're having your period, she knows how sensitive you become when this time of the month arrives so she'll have you begging for more. you will no more feel ashamed of having your period thanks to shinobu.
—Tengen (+ wives)
the man has three wives, i would be so disappointed if he doesn't know at least SOMETHING about menstruation. he treats you with care and softness all through the act, he comes out to be one of the most romantic among all hashiras. "i know babe, i know" he whispers as he slides in you, your whole body tenses when he fits it all in, moaning softly. hinatsuru let's your head rest on her lap as makio and suma sit beside you, holding your hands and casually caressing your skin. "you're doing so well, sweetheart" hina mumbles softly, sliding her hands up and down from your neck to your chest. an odd satisfaction washes over tengen at the view of his cock being painted red as he thrusts into you back and forth, holding your legs up and wide open, moving ever so kind and careful of your sensitive body "god, i wish i could rail the hell out of you, but i'll be kind, angel." you're in heaven.
—Kyojuro
"shh, it's okay my love i got you, keep going". kyojuro is the sweetest, he's so needy when he's horny but will be so so gentle and sweet with you when you're on your period. he sits you on his naked thigh and makes you straddle it, he wants you to come to friction alone, he helps you stay on place by holding your hips firmly. however the view of his leg getting soaked red and the slick and wet sounds from your moves make him hornier than he thought, also having you almost bouncing on top of him didn't help much and by the end of the session you're laying on your back, legs spread open and kyojuro rubbing his hard cock against your blood stained folds without really penetrating you, soaking his dick with your juices and rubbing it's length against your clit, enjoying the noises you and your pretty cunt make. "s-sorry, love... you look so good like this... fuck i'm so turned on..."
—Kanroji
"kanroji..." you moaned, breathless, as you threw your head back in the chair you're sitting. you refused to look down the table you had infront of you, you were trying so hard to keep your composure as your skirt was up/your pants were down and kanroji had her face buried between your legs, giving you the day of your life. mitsuri did not even hesitate to kneel down beneath you the moment you told her you were horny for her. you tried to stop her by telling her you were on your period and that it was okay if she didn't want to do it like that. she looked at you with a shocked expression but then smiled warmly yet seductively at you "then i'm going to make a mess down here~" a dangerous combination of cute and hot were settled in her words, you weren't ready for the wonders her mouth was capable of.
—Sanemi
"ngh, stop moving, you're making a mess" he growls, the two fingers curling inside your cunt are making you quiver and jolt. sanemi is... a bitch. he knows how sensitive you become on your period so he really doesn't miss the chance to tease and overstimulate you. but of course, his words may be mean most of the time but contradictory to his actions, you will find sanemi being one of the most careful among the hashiras, he always checks your facial expressions, your body language, 100% self-aware while finger fucking you in case he notices you're getting so many intense cramps you might need to stop. "does it feel good, babe? yeah? good because we ain't stopping. no, i don't want to hear your excuses. i'm gonna get this through."
—Gyomei
himejima is far from being disgusted by this, he is a man entirely determined to please you no matter the circumstances. when you tell him you're on the mood but warn him about being on your period, he remains silent for a bit, before leaning to you in bed, cornering you against the bed with his enormous figure, resting his big hand gently on your hip, sliding to caress the soft skin of your belly reassuringly. "love of mine, i am unbothered, if there is anything i can do to take you to your pleasure, just tell me, i will get you there, no matter the circumstances." his words are warm enough to make you melt, a rush of love and excitement runs through your body and you grab the wrist of the hand touching you. he allows you to lead his hand wherever you desired, sliding it only a few centimeters until it landed between your legs, he understands immediately but waits until you speak again, his hand only presses ever so slightly on your clothed sex and your only reaction is let out a soft whimper, you can't control it your body is so sensitive it responds to his touch immediately. gyomei blushes in delight and so do you, in embarassment "touch me, please... use your hands to make me cum, i need it so bad..." he doesn't need any more words before start working on your pussy over your underwear, staining his hand and any other part of him you wished just to please you.
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thanks for reading!
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talaok · 11 months
Note
hi bestie, hope you’re doing good <3 can i request something please? hear me out on this one aaaa
pedro and actress!reader are co-stars and there’s a pool table around one of their sets, she mentioned that she doesn’t know how to play pool and he gladly makes it his mission to teach her how to play pool and she’s frustrated because he smells so good and he keeps whispering praises into her ear while he has her bent over the table LWIDJFNRNRMD and then they end up fucking back in her room hehe
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Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
Summary: a hot pool lesson with Pedro
Warnings: a bunch of shameless flirting, tension, dirty talk, and an obscene amount of pet-names, but no smut bc for some reason I've found I don't want to write smut for Pedro
a/n: girl...that's so fucking hot
"what!?" 
you laughed softly "I'm sorry alright, I've just never played!"
"not even once?"
"nope"
"what do you do when you go to a bar?"
"I drink?" 
He huffs a laugh "that's unbelievable"
"Maybe it's more a thing of your generation..." you teased, cocking a brow.
"oh yeah? You're saying I know how to play pool just 'cause I'm old, sweetheart?"
You bit down a grin "I didn't say anything, it was all you"
"mh-mh" he hummed amusedly, taking a step to get in front of you.
His broad figure towered over you completely.
"Well I won't have any of that, a pretty lady like you needs to know how to play"
"is that right?" you smiled
"Absolutely" he nodded, a smug smirk tugging at his lips "and you're in luck... I happen to be a very good teacher"
You laughed softy "I would have betted you were. You have a lot of expertise?" you said, fully aware of the suggestive undertone of your words. 
He bit his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours "I sure do, sugar" 
You had played with fire and now your cheeks regretted it, as a pink tint flowed to them.
"so what do you say we get a drink somewhere and I teach you a thing or two when we're done here?"
"I'd like that" you nodded a shy smile on your lips.
"It's decided then" he winked, as someone called for him " you better start getting your face game on sweetheart"
__ __ __
With a quick call, you found out the bar just in front of your hotel had a pool table, so as you had decided, once you had both finished for the day, at around six, you made your way there.
You felt a slight buzz of anxiety the whole day. This wasn't the first time you hung out alone, and it's not like you didn't like it, or him, hell, that was probably the problem, you liked this idea a bit too much, and were concerned with the possible consequences of what precisely that excitement could have brought.
But still, as you sipped on your wine, watching him set up all you needed to play, you had never felt so at ease.
He was always able to do that, just his presence soothed you.
"Alright," he said, standing up after having racked up the balls with a triangle thingy "We're set up," he said, handing you your stick.
"alright then professor, how does this work?" you asked playfully, causing him to grin.
"ok so first of all one of us has to break"
you frowned, confused "as in..."
"right" he smiled "The break it's the first shot, if you make a ball into a pocket, you claim that type for the rest of the game"
"ok" you nodded, feigning confidence. You already knew you were gonna be shit at this.
"You wanna try to break?" he asked, 
"Uhm, sure, but I think first you gotta tell me how to use this thing" you laughed softly, eyeing the wooden stick in your hand.
"Ok, first of all, that thing is called a cue," he said "and don't worry I'll guide you through it, sugar" he reassured you.
"Alright," you spoke softly "so what do I do?"
"ok, so first of all you bend over the table," he said, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.
"you're not even gonna buy me dinner first?" you joked, doing what he had instructed.
You heard the warm sound of his deep chuckle behind you "You have a dirty mind sweetheart" he shook his head, coming to stand behind you as you bent over. 
"ok, now try to aim for the center of the triangle with your cue"
"you tried but you quickly came to a realization "Pedro I have no idea how to hold this" You smiled
"that's not so bad" he spoke, eyeing your grip, "but here," he said, one of his hands guiding your fingers around the stick "that's better, you have to hold on to it tightly ok?" he said, and you nodded "while for this hand..." he trailed off, taking your left hand in his and positioning it how you were supposed to on the table "you have to hold it like this so that you can aim " he murmured.
His whole body was pressed against yours, his scent was intoxicating if not poisoning, and you could feel the warmth of his body as it followed the shape of yours.
Your heart started beating faster, and you had to bite your lip
“Try making a shot” he murmured again
“O-ok” you stuttered, mainly focusing on not moving any part of your body because that would have meant doing so against his.
You tried taking a shot, and as you could have probably predicted, failed miserably.
The ball didn’t even graze the other ones.
You laughed softly “shit”
He chuckled, the soft vibrations of his voice traveling straight to your ear “Don’t beat yourself up, it's your first time after all” he spoke, retrieving the ball before getting back to his previous position, his body and arms stretched out to guide yours.
God, was he distracting.
"ok now try again" he whispered gently, his hands leaving yours temporarily to move some hair out of your face. You blushed as your breathing quickened "You can do it sugar, try taking a deep breath"
That's easier said than done.
You tried nonetheless, attempting to clear your mind and trying again.
"that's it," Pedro smiled "That's a good girl"
fuckshitfuck
As embarrassing as it sounds, you could feel your panties grow wetter.
But I mean, did he have to whisper that into your ear? Not that you were complaining it's just... you weren't much of a fan of having all the oxygen taken out of your body with just two words.
He must have noticed something was wrong because he asked "You ok, sweetheart?"
"y-yeah, sorry" you smiled your tension away "So what happens now?"
he leaned up and took a step away from you, retrieving his own cue.
"now since you claimed the stripes balls," he said, taking the one you had made into a pocket out "I'm gonna play to make the other ones"
"ok" You nodded, "show me how it's done then, professor"
He analyzed the table before positioning himself to make a shot.
He glanced at you as he was in position "Ready?" he asked
"oh I'm ready" you teased.
He made the shot and made two balls like it was nothing.
"show-off" you joked, your lips pulling into a smile "So what now? You go again?"
He raised himself, his eyes locked on yours "Usually yes, but I want to help you out here, so why don't you go again?"
"fine, but not because I need your help" you clarified, deciding on what ball to aim to and bending down in position.
"you're already better" he spoke, his voice suddenly deeper as he got behind you once again, this time his hands finding your waist.
You had to hold your breath.
"c'mon, sweetheart, show me what you've learned" 
"is my grip right?" you asked, half (actually fully) hoping he would get closer to you.
"let's see" he granted your wish, bending down to you "That's really good sugar, you're a natural"
"you're just saying that" you chuckled
"no, you're real good at this," he said "Now try again, c'mon"
You set your fingers how he'd taught you and were rewarded with a sultry "That's it, sweetheart, that's perfect"
His breath was fanning over your neck but you somehow managed to make the shot.
"atta girl, if you keep going like that you might just beat me" 
"might?" you forced yourself to act as if you weren't about to combust "I don't think there's any doubt I'm gonna do that"
He chuckled, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your sides "You keep dreaming" he mocked "Now let's see if you can do that again" he challenged.
You turned your head to the side, finding his just inches away.
Once again, your heart took a toll.
Whatever you wanted to say, had flown out of your head.
The only thought in your mind was: God how I want to kiss him.
You had never admitted it, but I guess this was as good a time as any.
"go on angel, show me" he nodded
You obliged, getting back to the game but having to bite your lip to prevent your heavy breathing.
You once again relished the feeling of him so very close to you, and just as you did... an idea came to mind.
So what if I...
As you aimed for a ball, you let your body move with you, more precisely, you let your ass stretch out a bit, casually finding Pedro's crotch.
He cleared his throat, and you bit down a whimper at the feeling.
"sorry" you murmured, pretending to be still focused on the game.
"it's nothing sweetheart" he reassured you, his hands still on you.
"is this good?" you asked innocently as you grinded on him again, nodding to the way you were placing your fingers.
"fuc- Yeah," he said, his voice more strained "Yeah that's perfect sugar, just like that, you're doing really good"
"really?" you asked, moving your ass against him again.
You were determined to break him. And you did.
You had to admit it had been easier than you'd expected.
His hold on your waist got tighter "you might want to stop doing that" he whispered to your ear, spreading goosebumps all over you
"do what?" you asked naively
He chuckled softly
"You're gonna get me in trouble sugar"
"Why is that?" you said, turning to him.
He paused a moment, as if he was pondering if he should have told the truth.
"I wouldn't want to have to fuck you right here on this table" he spoke calmly as if he hadn't just said what he said, "what would all these people think?"
you bit your lip, stifling a whimper "I didn't take you for one to care about that type of thing"
"I'm not, trust me there's nothing I'd like more than to slide your pretty panties to the side and thrust into you right now, but I'm sure a lady like you wouldn't like that"
you smiled "You know me well," you said, leaning closer to him "So what do you say we go back to my hotel room?"
An incredibly wide smile tugged at his lips "I was hoping you would say that"
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luvghostie · 2 years
Text
╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒
𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘/𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘༊*·˚
{𝘎𝘕 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, + 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦}
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*ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬
When you called him daddy for the first time it took him aback...and he's a ruthless serial killer- he obviously didn't say anything but the name made him hard just hearing it. The feeling was quite unusual for Michael. The name sent a feeling of pure pleasure throughout his body.
Now you call him daddy any chance you can. No doubt you'll be fucked until you can't think straight anymore.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲
Baby is a chaotic but fun person to be around. If she finds interest in you, gender and mental state won't affect her. Baby likes you for you, if you were innocent she'd love you even more. Yes, she kills people but she knows something good when she sees it. Even mother Firefly likes you!!
Baby seems like the dominant type as she likes power. So, when you called her mommy it only filled her ego more. She'll be all over you as the name is something that triggers sexual desires. She'll make you say it again finding enjoyment in your humiliation and will fuck you all night long. (Otis most definitely heard you and told you guys to shut the fuck up)
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*ೃ༄ 𝐎𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝
Let's be honest, you've been calling Otis daddy since you two first got together. His manners and the way he carries himself just give off the vibe. The name ate away at you until you finally said it. Oh boy, the number of times you two fucked that night was unbelievable.
It's like a habit now. Sexual activity or not, it's a slip of the tongue and a nickname you call him 24/7. Baby thinks it's cute but she doesn't want to hear you guys fuck. The poor girl already has trauma from the brief things she's walked in on.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠
Spaulding didn't expect you for the kinky type. The innocent-looking ones are always the kinkiest. But, he likes the name and even makes you call him daddy in embarrassing situations. Out in public? You know he'll make you call him it just for humor or to make others uncomfortable.
In the bedroom, the nickname is still a must. Spaulding loves it when he feels in control. Having you a moaning mess saying his favorite new analysis, it's absolutely perfect.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞
Look at her, it's no surprise you call her mommy. When you use the nickname she finds it rather flattering. She's had many exes in the past, (Chucky being one of them) who love her dominant side. She knows what she wants and how to get it.
Like Otis, she'll fuck you harder than you possibly could imagine. Reminder, this girl is super freaky and will tease you to the point that you can't take it anymore. That bright pretty smile never leaves her face while you scream her name.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝
You guys were in the middle of having sex when you accidentally called him daddy. He stopped himself before asking you to repeat what you said. He's been called that name many times, coming from you though, it feels right.
He'll have you call him daddy whenever you need anything. The name makes him feel powerful over you and turns him on so much. I have a good feeling you guys fuck every night because of it.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞
Dollface is a very complicated person. She can be sweet then turn around and eat your heart out. When you guys did have sex, being called mommy was the last thing she expected.
Doll likes the name shockingly. She makes you say it now and then as it makes her happy. However, She won't push you to do anything you don't like. If you want round two or want to make love more often just let her know.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧
This man will either find it very funny or very sexy. There's no in-between. When you guys do have sex it's always full of new experiences. Once, Art blew an air horn in your ear while you were fixing to cum. You punched the shit out of him which he found absolutely funny.
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*ೃ༄𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬
Billy actually asked if you could call him daddy. He'll admit it to you, the word coming from your mouth sounds like heaven. Gosh, say it all the time and he'll fold.
Billy loves seeing you beneath him and when you moan daddy- boy losses all self-respect. He isn't ashamed to ask you what his ‘name’ is. Every time you say anything besides daddy he'll just go faster.
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*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐭𝐮 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫
Daddy? He never expected you to call him daddy. No one's ever called Stu something like that before. The common, baby, babe, and a nickname they've given him have always been usual. This is a new leaf though and from now on that's the only name he wants you to call him.
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chaussetteblanche · 9 months
Note
I had this idea in my head for a while; With Kit Connor x gf reader, where she comforts him when he was pressured to come out
thank you <3
pairing : kit connor x reader summary : you are by kit's side as he deals with being forced to come out word count : 900 words warnings : swearing
note : the fact that some so-called "fans" watched the show and had the nerve of accusing him of queer-baiting and pressured into coming out when he was only eighteen is just disgusting to me, check yourselves y'all
You'd been dating Connor for a while. Being an actor, you'd met at some party he had attended with the Heartstopper cast. You'd met Yasmin first, and had immediately hit it off. She was unbelievably funny and down-to-earth. She had introduced you to the rest of the cast, and, naturally, you'd been drawn to Kit. You had exchanged numbers through shy smiles and shaky hands, the rest was history.
Dating someone in the acting world was both a blessing and a curse. As an actor, Kit understood and could relate to your struggles with roles, management, fame, social media... just the industry in general. You bonded over similar experiences as bisexuals who could pass as straight and who didn't always bother with labels or clarifying their sexualities. But as an actor, he was also often on the move, filming thousands of kilometres away from you or in a different time zone altogether.
But even with all this, being with Kit was easy. You both clicked, you just worked. You communicated your feelings and needs and even though you'd had your fair share of arguments, you loved him more than anything. He made you and your life so much better.
So you can imagine that when people he started being accused of queer-baiting and being pressured by people who missed the meaning of the show entirely to come out, you didn't take it well. You loved Kit with all your heart and would tear the world to pieces just for him.
"I just can't believe these people! How dare they? How can they just- sit there and demand this of you!" you'd ranted one night. "You're eighteen for Pete's sake! You don't owe them or anyone anything! Fucking cunts, it's just ridiculous that they think so!" Kit watched you from where he was sitting on the couch, running a hand over his face. You sigh, licking your lips as you trudged over to him. "I'm sorry," you speak softly, standing in between his legs. He looks up at you, shaking his head. "You've got nothin' for apologize for, luv," "But I shouldn't go off like this, it's not fair to you, this negative energy..."
He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Your hand immediately goes to his hair, gently scratching his scalp as the other wounds itself around his shoulders. "I would make them vanish off the face of the Earth if I could, I swear, I-" "You did all you could, my love, it's already more than enough." He meant the countless posts you'd made concerning his situation as well as other actors', speaking up on the issue in many interviews... He was right, you'd done everything in your power. But it still wasn't enough. And it was killing you.
"But it's not, though. They just won't stop! Where is their bloody decency? And you don't deserve this, any of this. It's so unfair." "I know," He lifted his head up to look at you. Your hand cupped his jaw before you kissed him deeply. "I can take it," he assured against your lips. You pulled away, frowning. "But you shouldn't have to. It's so unfair. I wish we could just shut them all up, tell them to fuck off." "But you've done that already, haven't you?" he chuckled. "Yes, but clearly the message didn't get through." He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "Stop worrying about me. I'll take care of it." "What will you do?" "I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."You'd seen the tweet before you'd seen him. He was supposed to come over to your place for Halloween, you were planning on attending a party together, dressed as Shaggy and Velma. You were halfway through getting ready. You had your outfit on and were just getting started on your makeup when your phone started blowing up. Confused, you picked it up, seeing Kit's tweet everywhere. You slapped a hand over your mouth, scrolling down Twitter. Even though you were furious at the people who had brought him to this, you couldn't help but feel proud of him for taking control of the situation and coming out on "his own terms", if they could be qualified as such.
Your doorbell rings and you all but run to open the door. Outside stands Kit, looking absolutely beaten. You bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. "I just saw," you breathe. He walks in and pulls you into a big hug, sighing shakily into your hair. You rub his back. "Oh, baby," you coo, "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this,"
You usher him to your couch, closing the door and start making some tea. You set both your cups down on the coffee table, sitting down next to him. You take his hands in yours, caressing his knuckles. "How do you feel?" "I- I'm just disappointed, I guess. I thought people, especially after watching the show, would be more understanding, empathetic... just- more human, I guess." "Yeah, people are disappointing." "But I wanted to be the one to say you, you know? I didn't want that taken away from me, I didn't want to be outed." "And you were totally right, you took control of the situation and I'm so proud of you. You changed the narrative." He gave you a small smile.
Kit laid his face in your lap, hugging your thighs. "It still sucks, though," he spoke, voice muffled. You nodded, running a comforting hand up and down his back. "Yeah, it sucks. Do you wanna stay here tonight and watch some scary movies?" "Yes, please."
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arabellasleopardcoat · 5 months
Text
Wolf (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Daemon inherits the Red Keep. He turns it into a sex club. You know, as one does.
Warnings: Modern Daemon x Hightower reader. Smut. Dom/ Sub dynamics. Overstimulation.
A/N: Daemon's views do not represent my own! Pt 2 to this. There is no need to read pt 1 to understand it, though. Also, do not learn BDSM from fanfic.
You sighed. You dropped your head, smashing the keyboard. This was unbelievable. Had your CV always looked so bland?
You erased the keysmash, and put instead, five years of experience as an CDO.
The door to your office was slammed open, making you jerk in your seat. You looked up, an annoyed remark already on your tongue, and froze. Daemon. Because who else would barge in so rudely?
“Your whorish sister is suing me.” He sat down, dramatically slumping down on the chair. “Make it stop.”
Your eyebrows raised.
“Good morning to you too.” You closed the tab you were browsing in, job offers in King's Landing, and looked up at him. It was the first time you had seen each other since the elevator incident. So far, you were unimpressed with his opening gambit. “Alicent is the most monogamous person in Westeros.”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“Whatever. I am busy.” You typed even more furiously. You had all tabs closed, but Daemon didn't need to know that. It gave you an excuse to avoid looking at him. After that afternoon in the elevator, you were too embarrassed to do so.
Despite having been the one in control the whole time, you were the one who felt more ashamed of your encounter. Once the power trip had worn off, and you had faced reality, embarrassment had started to creep in. Sitting in your father's car with a bruised throat and soaking wet underwear had been humiliating enough. Just thinking of it made you hot under the collar, and not in a good way.
Daemon, instead, had the shamelessness of a porn star. To him, it hadn't been a big deal at all, and it showed. He strutted around the building, giving you naughty little grins every time your paths crossed. The only change had come, oddly enough, from following his real Instagram. You had been added to his Close Friends and now endured the terrible, inhuman torture of watching his selfies. If his mirror pics showed any more skin, they would be dick pics.
“You won't even ask why I am being sued?”
You sighed. You stopped feigning typing.
“I don't need to ask. I can guess it has to do with the contesting of your brother's will.”
Good Gods, you had heard enough of that. Alicent was clawing at the walls and frothing at the mouth that she was getting evicted from her home. Viserys had left her a considerable amount of money and properties, just as he had done for their children. But the Red Keep, the ancestral home in which she had lived ever since they married, was going to Daemon.
Your father was impossible, too. The majority of Viserys' share had gone to Daemon and Rhaenyra, which meant they could easily kick him out of the company. If they managed to agree on something, of course.
“It does.” Daemon kicked his feet up, placing them on your desk. He made a show of getting comfortable.
“There. Out of my office. I'm working” You slapped what you could reach of his feet and calves, until he had no choice but lower them.
“Fuck, you are so…” Whatever Daemon was going to say, he didn't get the chance. You slammed your laptop closed with much more force than necessary, making him wince. “Stop that. Seven Hells, you are so uptight. Relax. It doesn't matter. It’s not like you will hold this job much longer.”
“Is this my notice?” Your eyes narrowed. “Because you need to present it written, and I have to…”
“I just mean, when Rhaenyra gets the…” Daemon started saying, but once again, you did not give him the chance to finish. If he was going to interrupt you, you were going to interrupt him too. Petty as it sounded, it brought you great satisfaction to see him squirm.
“When Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron, you mean.” You smirked.
“God, what a mouthful.” Daemon laughed. It was annoying. His laugh was so loud and unashamed. You wanted to punch him. Or, at least, shake him and see if his only two neurons made synapse.
“Whatever.” You started to get up, grabbing your coat. Where were you going? Not even you knew, but it would be fine, as long as it was away from him.
“They could fire you still.” Daemon got up as well, blocking the exit. There was no escaping him, it seemed.
“I'll take my chances.” You snarled. Fuck, you didn't even mind Rhaenyra that much. It was the principle of the thing. What had she done for the company? Both she and Daemon just rode Viserys and Otto's success, spending money like it grew on trees and causing so many PR scandals they could as well be a controversial rock band. “Move.”
“It's still going to Rhaenyra.” Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you in place. His grip wasn't harsh, but rather, a warning. It made you think of the way he had tugged your hair, when you were on your knees… “Your sister is suing me because I want to put a sex club on the Red Keep.”
You choked on air.
“You want to do what?!”
“It's an historical building. Or so she says.” Daemon ignored you completely. To him, apparently, filling one of his ancestral properties with a bunch of naked, drunk people, was the new normal. You know, just what one does, if one is filthy rich and bored on a random Tuesday.
“It is one.” You said, a bit perplexed. The Red Keep was more than a hundred years old. Alicent had taken great care to restore the place, bringing experts from all over the world to ensure the best care for the building. You could not even imagine the look on her face when she realized that not only was she being evicted, but that also, Daemon intended to use her home as his sex dungeon.
How would that even work? Was it legal? Tourists visited the Red Keep, you knew. The place was nice, but it was a castle. You could not picture it as a club, or anything more than the home it had been for your nephews.
“The inauguration is on Friday. See you there.” Daemon clapped your shoulder, oddly sheepish. He seemed to actually want you there, which threw you for a loop. He kissed the corner of your mouth, and left, leaving you stunned in the middle of your office.
It ate at you the whole week. A few discreet inquiries confirmed that yes, Alicent sued Daemon. And then, Daemon sued back.
His official Instagram says nothing. His secret one, though, has it plastered all over. You make a note of it, sure that it will leak before the week is over. You get it right. The week passes in a flurry of desperate interns and phone calls, trying to calm down outraged members of the board. His face is all over the news, and the stocks drop. Again.
Your father is furious. Positively seething. Alicent is no better, especially the more Friday approaches. Each day that goes by, it’s one closer to losing her claim on the Red Keep altogether.
It had been a foolish choice, choosing Aemond as a lawyer. He was precisely the kind of man who never knew when to negotiate. If it had been up to you, you would have hired his associate, Alys Strong. Now that was a woman who you could respect.
You tried pretending deafness and blindness, clinging to the idea that out of sight was out of mind. It didn't work whatsoever. You couldn't stop worrying about what would happen if anyone found out about your rendezvous with Daemon last month.
Death, surely. Either throttled by Alicent, or out of sheer embarrassment of your father learning you had sex.
You should stay away from him. It was the reasonable thing to do. A one-night stand didn't mean anything. Everyone had those. Daemon was trouble. But gods, the look on his face when you had left him wanting. How powerful you had felt. Anyone would have trouble letting that go.
Friday dragged by, and you still had not made your choice. You agonized over it all day. It was only when you got off work that you made your choice. You were going, if only to see the clusterfuck with your own eyes.
Daemon had that kind of effect on you. It reminded you of the magicians at the birthday parties you used to attend as a child. He made you recklessly curious, always wanting to see what would be his next trick.
Deciding what to wear was another agonizing choice. Overall, it didn't matter. You realized as soon as you entered the Red Keep that you were overdressed. If you had shown up only in your panties, perhaps you would have blended right in.
It was tacky. It was tasteless. It screamed Daemon.
The Red Keep layout was kept the same, probably because it was an historical building and anything but would go against the conservation’s laws. All the furniture had been removed, making you barely recognize the rooms you passed. This was no longer your sister's home, but a den of sin.
The rooms were only lit by red lights, the heavy bass of some song that was probably in the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack echoing in the stone walls. You made your way to what used to be the dinning room, and walked towards the bar.
Tonight was meant to be a soft launch, and you intended to take advantage of the lowered prices. You asked the bartender to bring you a cocktail, but much to your surprise, the cocktail did not come alone. Instead, it came with a pamphlet and a small basket, filled with colorful bracelets.
“You have to wear one, Miss.” The bartender said. You stared.
When you were confident about what they each meant, you grabbed a purple one and placed it on your wrist.
“Switch.” Daemon whispered in your ear, startling you. “Are you sure about that?”
“Good Gods! You frightened me.” You complained, clutching your chest. To be able to speak to him over the loud music, you had to lean into his space quite a bit. By the smirk on his face, he was clearly enjoying it.
“I live for that. Frightening naive little girls.” Daemon gave a tug to the bracelet, letting it snap against your skin. “Sure about the color?”
“I am.” You moved back, scowling. You hated that he always wanted to command everything around him. The bracelet on his wrist was dominant red, making perfect sense.
“I would not say you are.” His hands were quick to catch you, one at your hip and another at your nape. Daemon ran a finger down your spine, making you shiver. “I think you are a little princess who loves submitting.”
“I am not a sub all the time.” You pushed his hands away. If anyone saw you practically on his lap, there would be hell to pay. Alicent would throw a fit, and so would your father. Besides, you didn't fancy ending up in the tabloids. “And get your hands off me, we are in public.”
“Look around, you prude. Practically an orgy.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and gently tilted you to face some couches in the other room. There were two women kissing, while a man was kneeling between their spread legs. None of them were wearing any clothes. You swallowed. You had been carefully avoiding looking at the others in the room. “And you are a submissive to me. You know what they say…”
“And what gave you that impression?” Your tone was sharp, but you were not as invested in the conversation as you once were. No. Because your eyes were fixed on a younger man, lingering by the corner of the room. A very familiar one, with silver hair. Was that..?
Whoever caught your attention, he was not allowed it long. Daemon stepped in front of you, blocking your view of him. One of his hands went to your face.
“Looks like one.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, open-mouthed. You hated your treacherous, treacherous body for reacting to it, a moan escaping your mouth. “Sounds like one.” Daemon kissed you, exactly at the pace that you liked. For some bewildering reason, that not even you could fathom, you kissed back. “Tastes like one. Must be one, don't you think?”
Daemon grinned at you, superiorly. Irritatingly, and just like that time in the elevator, you weren't sure if you wanted to slap the smile off his face, or kiss it away.
“I do not look submissive.” You bristled. “What in the Seven Hells gave you that impression?”
“Your eyes are all glazed over. You look fucked out and I haven't even touched you. And of course…” Daemon brushed the slope of your nose with a finger and gave it a boop. You batted his hand away, annoyed. “The fact that you were practically drooling to suck my cock a month ago.”
“First of all, that is not even a word. And you said it yourself. A month ago.”
“What? Glazed over or fucked out?”
“You sound like a bad porno.”
“A bad porno you like, little brat.” Daemon nosed along your shoulder, making your knees feel weak. He had the face of a man experiencing heaven, as if the tastiest delicacy was just there, for him to consume. “Lucky you, I love brats.”
“As if I care.” You did, but Daemon didn't need to know that. Part of you felt strangely pleased at being his type.
Daemon laughed. He kissed the tip of your nose.
“You owe me a punishment. Up for it?”
And again, contradicting all common sense, you nodded. Daemon grabbed your hand and brought you to a closed door, but before you could get in, someone pressed into your side.
“Aunt. How lovely.” Aegon said, smiling like a shark. You felt so embarrassed that you felt as if about to spontaneously combust. Daemon's arm around your waist tightened.
“Dear nephew!” Daemon smirked. “Fancy meeting you here. Tell me, how did you get in? Fake ID?”
Aegon was well over legal age, but he glared at Daemon regardless.
“With the invitation you sent me.” He then waved a hand towards you. “Does Mother know about this?”
“Well, yes. But I wasn't expecting you to show.” Daemon said, casually. Your mouth fell open.
“You sent him an invitation? Are you insane?” You shouted, turning towards him.
“I take it Mother doesn't know.”
“I wasn't expecting him to come! How would I have known?” Daemon shouts right back.
“You are mad.” You detangle yourself from him and ask the bartender for a shot. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
You down the shot so fast, you barely feel the sting of alcohol in the back of your throat. Aegon watches, amused, and asks for a drink of his own. When faced with the basket, he immediately picks a submissive bracelet and slips it on casually.
“Nice place you got here.” He complimented. Daemon ignores him, choosing instead to grab you by the arm.
“I can explain, little Hightower.”
“Fuck, you call her that?” Aegon whistles, delighted. His voice has a hint of awe. “That's dirty.”
“Shut up!” You glare at Aegon. Daemon falls quiet. “No, not you, fool. Explain.”
“I sent one to your sister, to Cole, to your father, to that boy with the stick up his ass, to Harwin and Nyra, to Helaena, to…” Daemon was counting with his fingers, and it seemed like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
“I get it, I get it.” You interrupted. “What for?”
“To piss them off, of course. Gods know, some of those cunts need loosening up.”
“And Rhaenyra? Is she happy with what you have done with the place?” You snarl, a bit of jealousy creeping in your tone.
“Very. In fact, I saw her disappear over there with that Cole guy.” He pointed towards one of the rooms.
“Criston? Didn't think he had it in him.” Aegon comments idly.
“He is dornish.” Daemon interjected, as if it made perfect sense. But it didn't because being dornish didn't equate with wanting to receive whatever Rhaenyra had in mind. You certainly wouldn't be up for it. Your paths had crossed with hers enough times to know that, just as Daemon, she demanded worship.
Whatever Criston was doing here, you hoped he didn't regret it in the morning. Or else, you would have to explain to Alicent why her bodyguard was moping around and hungover.
Alicent. Fuck. Criston wanted to fuck her so bad it made him look stupid, and so did Rhaenyra. Perhaps that was it. Neither of them could have her, so they settled for each other instead.
“And heavy on the guilt.” Aegon muttered.
“Well, dear nephew. As lovely as it was meeting you here, and as touching as your show of support for my fine establishment was, I have business with your aunt.” Daemon's hand presses against your lower back, urging you forwards. You give Aegon a wide-eyed look. He is not the sort to care where others stick their cocks, and you are on relatively good terms, but he could still tell.
“Gross. Does Grandfather..?” Well. No one said Aegon was the paragon of intelligence. It is for the best that you didn't answer his question. Plausible deniability and all.
Daemon and you exchange a look. Your eyes, pleading. His, annoyed.
“Anything he drinks is free.” Daemon grumbles to the barman. He knows as well as you do that Aegon is easily distracted.
“What? For real?”
Neither of you answered. Daemon kept moving, and so did you. He led you towards one of the locked doors, deftly pushing a token inside a slit, and the door opened for you.
Your expectations for what was inside were high. Needing a token to open a door must mean this place is something special. A dungeon, perhaps, or a room filled with chains and leather. Maybe even a bedroom.
But as you have often come to realize with men, having high expectations is a terrible idea. The only thing inside is a cozy-looking couch and a small table that holds a bowl full of condoms and lube. You are unable to keep the disappointed little frown from your face. Daemon had talked such a big game, you had expected something different. Something more.
“This is it?” You say, trying not to sound as disappointed as you feel.
“Yes.” Daemon sits down on the couch. You stare. You must be pretty obvious because he gives you a lazy smile. “Not what you were expecting?”
“No.” Entranced by the way his lips curl, you step closer to him.
“What were you expecting?” Daemon’s hands go to rest on your hips like it's the most natural thing in the world.
“I don't know. Whips, chains?”
Daemon chuckles.
“Oh, sweetling.” He kisses between your collarbones, mouth leaving a trail of scorching heat on its path. You gasp, feeling weak at the knees from the simple touch. Your hands go to his shoulders, clenching and unclenching on his shirt to try to steady yourself.
Thing about Daemon? He is not polite. He kisses your chest and shoulders as if he wants to devour you. Daemon is messy with it, too, leaving you covered in hickeys and saliva. It should disgust you, but it only manages to turn you on more.
The bass pounds outside the room, mixing with the heavy pulse of your blood in your ears. You could swear you can listen to your heartbeat, with how fast your heart is going. Little pants escape you, only encouraging Daemon to get wilder.
He mouths at your throat. He takes off your top, sliding it down your shoulders. You cling to him, trembling and feverish. Your nails dig into the skin of his back, you feel as if about to fall over.
“Please.” You say, and you don't even know what you are asking for. Daemon, though, seems to know exactly what you need. His hand sneaks into your trousers, finding you wet and willing. Your knees buckle.
“Shh.” His voice is soothing. “Straddle me.”
So you do. His mouth goes lower, taking one of your nipples inside his mouth. You give a small, keening sound.
“Daemon…”
“I'm on it.” He smiles against your skin and slowly starts to suck. His fingers move upwards, after collecting some of your wetness. He locates your clit with deadly accuracy and starts rubbing soft little circles.
You mewl. Your hand goes to his neck, holding him as close as you can to your chest. It's not hard for him at all to bring you over the edge. You fall over it embarrassingly fast, muffling a moan on his shoulder.
Daemon lightly bites around your nipple, making you jolt. He keeps stroking you through it, pleasurable circles on your clit turning into painful oversensitivity. You cry out, legs trying to close, but finding there is no way for you to do it with how you are straddling Daemon.
“Hurts. Stop, Daemon.” You complain, trying to get away. Instead of complying with your request, though, Daemon only holds you tighter.
“Now, little brat. Where do you think you are going?” He smirks. Alarmed, you try to break his grip, pushing at his shoulders and even attempting to cup a hand over your cunt. “I have not forgotten what you did.”
You bite at his shoulder, hard. Daemon laughs, and keeps abusing your poor clit. His fingers pinch around it, exposing more of the bead.
“What's your safeword?”
“Safeword.” You mutter back, too distracted to try to be creative. The burning sensation on your clit keeps you from it, rising and rising and making you think you are about to come again. Soon, the pain changes from a bright flame to tiny embers, making your hips chase his hand once more.
“Good girl. Clever.” He kisses your forehead. “If you don't say it, I won't stop, no matter how loud you scream.”
Your mind is at war with your nerve endings, and it's steadily losing the battle. No matter how hard you try to focus on the thought of being unable to come again this fast, your body seems set on proving the contrary.
You want to give Daemon a witty retort. Perhaps, say something about the lines of how he will disappoint yet again. Yet, you are unable to because a shrill moan is leaving your lips, and you are falling over the edge again.
Daemon, though, is relentless. He pushes a finger inside of you, searching for the spot that will make you scream. You try to close your legs, shield your body from him. It’s pointless. He has too good of a grip on you, one hand holding you open and teasing your clit, and the other fingering you.
He definitely knows what he is doing. You are suffering too much to enjoy it.
Your body jerks as if you have touched a live wire, stomach’s muscles quivering with the effort of holding you uprights. Sweat is starting to ruin your hair, making it stick to your nape and temples.
“No, no, no.” You push at him, trying to get away. This time, you half manage, falling off his lap and into the couch instead. Daemon just looks amused, and leans down to nuzzle your belly.
“Thank you.” He lifts your hips slightly, even as you start to try to kick him off. He removes both your trousers and underwear with a swift tug. “This will be so much easier.”
And so, he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, half pleasure, half protest. Daemon wraps his arm over your hip and pins you down. He then takes your clit into his mouth.
The feel of his warm mouth around your clit eases a bit of the soreness there. The pleasure has made you stupid, so you open your legs to give him better access. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as you submit.
He is a dragon, he will tell you later. And dragons eat naive girls like you for breakfast, dinner and supper, if they are stupid enough to let them get close.
Daemon pushes another finger inside you. The stretch feels unbearable, making you try to squirm once more, but he is moving his fingers in a come and hither motion; your body is going rigid, and you are screaming and falling and—
You lose count, after that. Your body feels abused, there are tear tracks on your temples. You feel feverish. You go in and out of consciousness, as Daemon laps at you, fingers you, rubs at you.
Time turns liquid. It slips through your fingers, moments at a time. You are not very conscious of your body, or of what Daemon is doing. There is only hot, molten pleasure and burning pain.
How much pleasure can a body take? Your hands push weakly at his head, moments later, you beg for him to use his tongue instead. He gives you a last one, forcing your body to arch and twist and making you sob desperately, before scooping you up in his arms.
Daemon's hands go to fix your top. You shake, afraid that he is going to continue and torture your nipples instead.
“No, no, no, no.” You chant. “Please. I am so sorry. Please.” You are barely aware of what you are saying. If you could hear yourself with a clear head, you would scoff at this pitiful woman who bends for the simplest things. You would scoff at her, just as you had scoffed at Daemon for being made into a slave to his pleasure.
“You won't do that again, will you?” Daemon licks your tears, and you cling to his shirt in desperation, willing to keep begging if necessary. Pleasure is as devastating a weapon as pain, you have found out. The line between the two blurs until you are not sure if you need his mouth on you again to soothe the pain, or if you need him to never touch you to stop hurting.
You shake your head. You would do anything Daemon wants.
He grabs you by the jaw, roughly.
“Say it.”
“I won't. I promise, please.”
Daemon hugs you to him. You melt, mind and body exhausted.
“You were good.” He tells you, after a while. You are not sure how much time has passed, but your head feels much more clear. “My brave girl.”
You cling to his reassurance. You tell yourself you have done good, that you endured and never even thought of the safeword. That your body was pushed to its limits, and that you were able to conquer them. Still, you ask.
“Was I good?”
“The best.” Daemon caresses your hips, drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of them.
“Thank you.” And you pull yourself together, one piece at the time. Your eyes focus, you can feel the way his chest constricts and expands with his breath. You righten yourself. “Water. I want a water.”
“You are back, I see.” He stares at you with none of the contempt he had displayed a month before. “Cunty little Hightower that you are, used to the lush life.”
“I do not think it too much to ask.” You scowl, more than ready for another round of banter. No matter how tired your body is, your mind is still sharp.
Daemon laughs.
“Get down from my lap and I will get you one.”
You do so, on shaky legs. You sit. Primly, as if not sitting naked in a sex club, but rather at the table of an important restaurant.
Daemon laughs at the sight you make, thoroughly fucked out but so damn composed it's nearly irritating. It almost makes him question if he has fucked you well enough. The tear tracks on your face seem to say so, but your demeanor says otherwise.
He comes back with your water, and you straighten a bit more. Your hands give you away, though. As sharp as your posture is, you are still shaking.
“You could come with me.” Daemon opens the bottle for you. “I would pay you.”
You feel as if you have been gutted. You are more than this, you think. A Hightower, an heiress in your own right. Not a trophy wife, not someone to be used and paid. You have a degree, you are smart. And you have sworn not to become like Alicent.
Viserys had been a kind godfather and mentor to you. He had not been a good husband to her.
“Be your sugar baby?” Already, you feel your walls rising back up. Why would he ask this of you? It must be a mockery of some sort, perhaps he has not forgotten how cutting your barbs to him once were. This must be Daemon getting his revenge.
Your mental retreat must be paired with a physical one, even if you do not realize it. Because Daemon is coming after you, his hands on your hips, pulling you back into his lap.
His face changes to something more serious. He rubs his nape, and you know, only by that gesture, that what comes next will be good. Daemon Targaryen does not do sheepish, you would say if asked. Yet here he is, blushing like a schoolboy. It makes something roar in you.
“While that sounds tempting, I like you too much for it. Respect you too much for it. But the club needs a presence on social media…”
You nearly smile. But you are a Hightower and you enjoy making him grovel. Daemon calls you a cunt for a reason, after all.
“Everyone would say I fucked the owner.” You whine, hiding your face on his neck so he doesn't see the ferocious smile on your lips. He must feel it against his skin, the most beautiful of curves, sharp teeth at his throat.
“So? Did you not?” Daemon asks because he is also an annoying asshole. The remark, even if teasing, makes something painful tighten around your chest. As much as you can pretend not to be bothered by it, this getting out would end you. Your father would die of a fit of rage, your sister would never speak to you again, not when the man you are fucking and working with is suing her to the Seven Hells and back.
Rabbits and other small prey animals freeze to avoid detection. You do the same. As if standing still may make you escape notice, will make Daemon unable to read the lines of your face and body.
“You don't have to say yes right away. You can think it over.” His hand rubs the small of your back, soft and sweet.
He can tell. Of course, he can, if the truth is written on your features so well, you might as well be shouting it from the rooftops.
Daemon smiles. He helps you dress, tenderly.
“Come. I'll drive you home.”
236 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
Text
Part 4 to the fwb series.
Takes place three weeks after the last update, Eddie is finally coming to terms with what you meant to him, he and Chrissy are over for good and Eddie is sure he will never get a chance with you again...
18+, minors shoo!! A lot of angst, pining.
🖤
It has been a long three weeks since Eddie had seen you. He had a lot of chance to reflect in those three weeks, all that kept playing in his mind is you shutting the door in his face.
He had lost you. Been so sure, so stupid and unbelievably arrogant that you'd be back that he didn't fight for you, ignored any feelings that tried to break through to the surface when you were with him.
You were right he did dangle hope, he felt like a complete asshole for how he treated you. It wasn't always like that though, most of the time you and Eddie laughed a lot.
Sometimes you'd even talk for a long time... it was a world away from what it was like with Chrissy, easy and felt good, not the on and off shit and arguments that him and Chrissy had.
What a fucking idiot he was. Dustin and Steve had went through him when they found out about the two of you, berated him for being a dick to you.
He deserved every bit of their ire. Fuck, how could he ever thought you'd take him back, when all he did was hurt you every time.
Chrissy glares at him as she removes the last of the stuff from the trailer, there's not much but she's took a long time to come and collect it. Not that he blames her for that, but they've both been stupid to think this could work between them.
It felt cathartic to finally be free of the notion of him and Chrissy, if he could really be honest they both moved on a while ago, clung on to long to something attainable.
"Are you in love with that girl or something because you're frankly quite depressing Eddie" Chrissy huffs at him and gestures to the forlorn way he's been acting.
"Yeah but I fucked it all up though so it doesn't matter anymore" he sighs as he lights a cigarette.
"Wow. Sucks to be you that you fucked around and she left you high and dry huh?" Chrissy says all sweetness laced with venom and he shakes his head. Shit why did he ever think that she was sweet?
Knowing he would be subject to more barbs and shit if he stayed, he leaves to get some peace and to just be alone for a while.
...
You're here. Eddie didn't expect to see you anytime soon, thought you'd avoid him like the plague or something. The Hideout is packed and there's a great band playing but all Eddie can notice is you.
You look beautiful, a smile on your face as you chat to the guy beside you. Eddie wonders if this is the guy you went on a date with? Were you dating still? His heart clenches in his chest, like it's in a vice grip.
When you catch his eye he swiftly looks away and clumsily downs his beer. Feels his heart race when you keep looking at him.
Sink or swim Munson, you can run away or you can at least make things right and apologise. He chooses the latter and walks up to you, he's all jumbled thoughts and he's nervous as shit but he has to do this.
"Hey, I won't take up much or your time princess but I just want you to know that I know I'm a fucking idiot, I should have let you in instead of keeping you at arms length and I... I miss you sweetheart" you stare at him for a long few seconds.
"You mean you miss the sex?" you murmur quietly and he shakes his head.
"No. I mean that was mindblowing sweetheart, you know that, but it's not just that. I know I've lost you, don't deserve any less but I just wanted to say this" he feels lighter in himself but the ache in his chest feels like it's multiplied.
Even the fucking bats weren't as painful as this shit feels. He turns to leave but you stop him, gently tug him back as you slip your hand through his.
It feels so fucking right.
"Did I mean anything to you or was it just sex?" your voice shakes a little bit and he wants to assure you that you did mean something, he was just an idiot who realised it too late.
"You were more than just sex. I'm so fucking sorry that it took me so long to realise, to get my head out of my ass" he leans forward and gently kisses your forehead, smiles sadly and then leaves.
...
You still feel the pressure of Eddie's lips on your head, that soft look in his eyes when he told you that you meant something to him, that you meant more than just sex.
It's like you're on autopilot when you drive home, your friend Alex's voice a distant fog as he talks about his date from earlier in the week.
The two of you had went on a date last month but both quickly realised it wasn't going to work.
Head swimming with thoughts you drop Alex of at his flat and continue driving, straight past your house and to Eddie's trailer.
You don't know why you're here, you shouldn't be but your stupid traitor heart is egging you on.
Chrissy would be here wouldn't she? As far as you knew they were still together... At least you hadn't heard otherwise. Dustin had mentioned Chrissy leaving Eddie, but they were always on and off so you didn't really know if they were together or not.
Just as you suspect Chrissy comes out of the trailer and your heart sinks, you're ready to turn away and sigh sadly. Why did you stupidly think anything would be different.
Eddie comes out at that point and he just looks so done. It gives you pause and you watch as Chrissy piles her belongings in the car, glaring at him.
"I mean it Eddie, I'm not coming back this time" you expect Eddie to beg or something but he doesn't, just shrugs softly.
"Chrissy, I'm done. Done with this, when you leave that's it. This isn't what I want, not anymore" you feel yourself gasp and Eddie's head turns in your direction.
"Princess. What are you doing here?" flustered you walk over feeling awkward as hell. Chrissy rolls her eyes, slams the trunk of her car down hard and gets in the drivers seat.
"Congratulations' she says cooly. Gotta say I'm surprised anyone got that freak to fall in love" despite what's gone on between you and Eddie you feel ire build up inside you at her comment to him.
"Don't call him that and he's not in love with me" you shake your head at the very thought, there was no way. He would have told you.
Chrissy cocks her head then snorts, drives away and raises a finger in Eddie's direction as she does. Over the roar of the car you don't hear what Eddie is saying, just see his lips move.
"What?" you move closer to him, his expression is tender and he strokes your cheek.
"I said yes I am" he replies to you gently, the confession hangs in the air. You're stunned, definitely didn't expect it.
"Why didn't you say anything? you whimper. Fuck, all of this heartache and shit. Thinking you meant nothing to him, then he tells you this.
"I'm an idiot. Realised at the last minute, realised I was too late, you said I'd lost you sweetheart and I realised after you said it that I was in love with you"
You're shivering and it's so cold but you're desperate to hear more of what Eddie says. He notices you shaking and motions you to come inside, retrieves a thick blanket and wraps it around you.
"I don't deserve another chance, I acted like such an asshole and I'm so fucking sorry sweetheart... If you ever did by some miracle want to give me one more shot at this then I promise you I'll do better, I'll love you so fucking much, I will never be so stupid to let you go again"
His hands slip into yours and you're rife with indecision. Your heart telling you one thing while your head is saying different.
"I can't promise that I'll never be an idiot but I won't ever hurt you ever, I mean that princess" he gazes at you with such sincerity that it takes your breath away.
"What if I suggested a coffee date or even just seeing a movie? Stopping over for some of Wayne's amazing mac and cheese?" you suggest, thinking of small ideas, something slow and easy at first.
Eddie's eyes light up. "Anything, anything you want. We could have hot chocolate and camp out, watch the stars like you wanted too that one time?" it sounds so nice, it would be so easy to say yes.
"I'm scared Eddie" you admit. Scared you'll get your heart broken again. He softens and sits beside you, squeezing your hands.
"I'm scared too sweetheart. I've never felt this way about anyone, certainly not Chrissy. If you decide to give me a chance, give me your heart then I'll swear I'll protect it and cherish it, never ever break it again"
Tears run down your cheeks and you nod, just a tiny bit and the smile that breaks out on Eddie's face is beautiful.
"You mean it?" he asks hopeful, big brown eyes full of happiness. Yes. Yes. You do mean it and grin back at him
Tentatively Eddie kisses you, smiling when you're arms wrap around him. He pulls away and takes your hand, kissing it softly.
"Hope you're ready to be wooed?" he teases and warmness sweeps over you. Hope that this time things will be different, know deep in your bones that this time Eddie isn't going to fuck up.
You cuddle into his chest and for the first time in a while, you feel content.
❤️
And that's it :) thank you to everyone who supported this series. I loved hearing all of your thoughts. Hope you like the final part 🖤
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