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#when did it get bad enough for him to start covering his face? what was ashe thinking? he knew his dad was up to something but what?
gglitch1dd · 2 days
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Listen yall, I know we hate Enji right. Totally hate him.
But like... 👀
Sugar daddy?
Imagine being Enji Todoroki's sugar baby, because my friends say I'm crazy when I say this AND I'M NOT CRAZY!
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Warning: Some smut towards the end, INTENSE daddy issues (Glitch starts sweating), Age Gap.
Big bad fire lord Enji who's a father who's children don't trust him. He views himself as a father who failed and considering they are all old enough that they have their own careers, they don't want to rely on him anymore.
Enji who has enough money to burn because his kids wont let him spend it on them.
Divorced, Enji Todoroki who doesn't even want to attempt entering the dating scene because he just knows how that is going to go.
Enji who's still Number One, just waiting for Shoto's generation to finish being sidekicks and burst into the ProHero space and take over the ranks..
Enji who gets dragged to meet and greet one day with Hawks (who only has like a handful of people actually wanting to meet him since everyone is scared of him), and one of them just happens to be you.
You aren't afraid of him, nor do you seem to care that he is a giant muscular man, over twice your size with hands big enough to cover your entire face.
You talk too much, you flutter around him excitedly asking him about how it is as Number One, he isn't your favourite hero by any means but you respect his career and what he's had to do to get there.
He finds you annoying, but he can't help but crack a smile when you attempt to make him laugh.
Enji who finds himself thinking about you at the end of the day, in his empty home wondering whether you would smile as big as you did today.
Enji who meets you a few days later while at a coffee shop by pure coincidence. Who actually gets the courage to talk to you and ask about you.
The two of you talk for a few minutes, you telling him about what course in varsity you were in and what exactly you were doing.
He honestly wanted to throw in the towel when he found out you were nearly twenty years younger than him. That sounded like his next scandal.
However, you managed to make him feel as if time just ran by.
Somehow, between getting to know you better and managing to actually get your number, he found out that you were struggling financial. Your average student that was just trying to make enough money to survive and pay off the student debt you were in.
So Enji decided to help. Not because he wanted anything back, but he had the money that you could use.
That's how Enji became your Sugar Daddy, although he hated the term. He was something like a boyfriend but not really. A Sugar daddy but not really.
The both of you grew close, your own issues and traumas fueling your relationship. He was a failed father and you felt like a failed daughter.
He found pleasure in the little things. In having you hold his hand and drag him around the mall, your eyes catching on clothes that you would love to wear or him buying you a new laptop because yours was old or buying you a new phone because you got a good grade, or him sitting you down for a nice meal because you deserved to taste good wine more than ten times older than you.
However, Enji wasn't expecting to have you come into his home and wind your way into his bed.
Enji was not weak by any means. His self control was impeccable and so was his own strength.
However, having you hold onto his shoulders as you struggled to take his fat Coke can of a cock, was a type of rush he didn't expect to find again. To have you whining, telling him how big he was, how warm his skin was and how nice he felt inside you, all around you. He could encage you so easily too.
He wasn't rough at you the first time. He was slow and methodically, watching you undo yourself on his cock in pure bliss. You whined as you held onto him for dear life, almost as if you were afraid he would disappear. But Enji didn't disappear.
He was right there, and he held his large arms around you. He would rather die than have you, his little flame, disappear and be snuffed out of his life.
-Glitch1d
(random thought honestly)
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ovaryacted · 1 day
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I'm drowsy off of allergy medicine so I wrote this and I'm not sorry about it. Anyways goodnight.
MDNI/18+. NSFW. | CW: blowjobs cause yeah
It was supposed to be a simple meet-up for scheduled tennis practice, a part of your daily routine with the Art Donaldson. He seemed rather laid back compared to how he plays, his signature spike and tick along with his cute grunts on the court did enough to make your imagination run wild.
You’ve seen him several times during practice, sitting out on the bleachers to spectate like others who would take space alongside you. He’s certainly getting better, his backhand was more forceful past the second set and his footing was quicker. Intrigued, you felt your curiosity grow as you walked up towards him after training, asking for his number and seeking more of his expertise.
“Oh me? You sure you want me training you?”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to train me? You’re good, you have the skill, plus you’re fun to watch”
That was what he initially told you then, soft eyes staring back into yours and that cheeky smile growing wider on his face at the compliment. It was a slow process, weaving yourself into his life all in the name of sportsmanship. He didn’t need to know your ulterior motive, you’re sure he wouldn’t complain if he knew what the end result was. It will work out for both of you in the long run, he gets the recognition he’s always wanted, and you finally get your hands on something worth your attention.
You knew your plan would work, though you didn’t expect it to come to fruition so quickly.
“Fuck”, the blonde groaned above you, the end of his red Stanford cap almost falling off the top of his head from how he craned his neck back. There you were, on your knees still in your white tennis skirt with your mouth working lavishly over his cock, his token of appreciation for being so good to you during your tennis lessons. Ideally, you would’ve wanted to enjoy him in the privacy of your dorm room, but the empty locker rooms worked just as well.
You hummed around his length happily, his hand coming to hold your jaw softly as he let you do the work. Art couldn’t help but stare down at you again, a grin plastered over his features to take in the view below him. Tongue lapping around his cock, your swollen and spit-covered lips were stuck in a consistent push-and-pull rhythm, working over him until your jaw grew sore. He tried to hide the whimper that was creeping up in his throat, but the moment your free hand went to caress his balls you forced it out of him anyway.
“Greedy huh?”, Art said, his cheeks were flushed down to his neck and sweat ran down his temple. You drew away from him to catch a breath, pumping him with your wrist.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I came to get my prize for beating you last time”, the smirk you wore was enough to make Art’s body pulse, hissing when your thumb ran over his sensitive slit, dragging further down with an audible shlick.
“Don’t let me stop you then”, his heart was pounding in his chest, beating hard against his ribcage with every firm pump of your hand.
You gave the tip of his cock a teasing kiss before wrapping your mouth around him again, taking him as deep as he would go. He was hitting the back of your throat, gagging around him before tugging away to do it again and again. Stabilizing yourself with one hand on his shaking thigh, your neck strained with the pace you set yourself to make sure he reached the edge. By the looks of how his fingers were digging into your scalp and his hips were starting to bump into your face to chase your warmth, he wasn’t too far off.
This was your reward, and you weren’t leaving until you got what you wanted.
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virginsexgod69 · 1 day
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Hi!! I love ur work for Daryl. I was wondering if you could write a daryl dixon oneshot where maybe him and the reader find an abandoned tattoo parlor while out on a supply run and reader gives him a tattoo and eventually that leads to smut! 🩷
❝ Inked ❞
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pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
cw established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, pet names, pussy eating, needles (for tattoos), idk how to do tattoos so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies
note omg i had a jolly good time writing this! tysm for the request =] i did lowkey tweak it slightly, but nothing major, i pinky promise
2.1k words
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“I don’t think there’s anything else we can get outta this place,” you commented as you placed the only can- a can of cranberry sauce from who knows how long ago- into your backpack. You looked around, only seeing more bare shelves and Daryl. You smiled, a natural reaction you had whenever you saw him. He wrapped his strong arm around your shoulder, pulling you close before placing a kiss to your hairline. 
“We should take a look a’ these other stores ‘fore we start headin’ back,” he suggested as he guided you out the store, arm still wrapped snugly around you. You nodded your head in silent agreement, following beside him. It was hard to tell what most of the other buildings were since they were all dirty with broken or boarded up windows, but one in particular caught your eye. 
“Hey, look! A tattoo shop,” you pointed at the building, “Let’s go check it out!” You hurried toward it, semi-dragging Daryl with you. 
“The hell we gonna find at a tattoo shop?” He asked, seeming genuinely confused at why the hell you’d wanna go. 
“Hopefully more than some nasty ass canned cranberry sauce.” He couldn’t disagree with you there, so he fell in line with your fast paced steps toward the shop. 
 You both entered the shop with knives drawn in case any walkers decided to stumble out of the shadows. Nothing came when the two of you made noise in an attempt to draw them out, so you sheathed your knife and went all the way inside, Daryl in tow. The shop was small, which allowed the sunlight shining through the window to fill it. The walls were covered in framed pictures of tattoo designs, although they were covered in dust. The shop itself was in fairly good shape, considering. You and Daryl split off in different directions in search of anything that could be brought back to the prison. You couldn’t find anything that wasn’t tattoo related, which wasn’t surprising since this was a tattoo shop. What you did find, though, was a lot more exciting. Everything that you would need to do a tattoo was all there, right in front of you. 
“Find anything?” Daryl asked once he found you again. 
“Yes and no?” 
“Wha’s that s’pose to mean?” He asked. 
“There’s still everything here to do tattoos with, isn’t that cool?” 
“We gon’ get matchin' tattoos or somethin’? He teased. 
"Not a bad idea, Dixon," you mused. You patted the seat and he sat down after setting aside his crossbow and got comfortable. You thought about what to put on him. You had so many ideas that you may as well have had none. 
"Wha's goin' on in there?" he asked. It was something that he'd say whenever he noticed you deep in thought. 
"I don't even know what to put on ya," you admitted as you traced lazy lines on his bare arm with your finger, "or where to put it."  Your face brightened when an idea finally passed through your head. You grabbed his arm and turned his hand to face upward before wiping a spot on his wrist clean with the alcohol wipe you got lucky enough to find. You unpackaged a needle before dipping it into the ink cap. Since there wasn't any power, you'd have to do a stick and poke. You were vaguely familiar with them from a time of experimentation during your teen years. With your non-dominant hand, you stretched his skin before getting to work on your design. You could feel Daryl trying to take a peek at what you were doing, but you purposely blocked his view with your head each time. You worked slowly and carefully, doing your best to make something cute despite not even being an amateur. 
“Okay, you can look now,” you muttered timidly as you handed him back his arm. You weren’t sure if he’d like it or not and were starting to regret not finding a pen and making a sketch to run by him for approval first. But, it was too late now and all you could do was hope for the best. He brought his wrist closer to his face to get a better look. It was simple, a small love heart with his first initial plus yours. It looked like something a girl would doodle in her notebook while daydreaming about her crush. 
“S’cute,” he said as he admired the tattoo with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, filled with all the love and adoration in the world. “I love it.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “You wanna gimme a matching one?” You joked, referencing his earlier comment. He glanced out the window, the sun was setting and it was likely you and him would have to spend the night here if he and you stayed for one more tattoo. Some privacy with you, alone, away from everyone at the prison sounded like heaven, and matching tattoos were a bonus. 
“Sure.” He got out of the seat and you got in. 
“You wan’ it in the same place?” 
You thought about it for a second. “I want it somewhere special, in a place for only you to see.” The rosy tint that blossomed on his cheeks wasn’t missed by you. You found it endearing how he sometimes grew flustered at your flirtation, despite it being nothing new. 
“Yeah? Where’s that?” He asked. 
“I dunno, Daryl. You pick,” you insisted with a smug look upon your face. He made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and you lifted your hips to assist him in pulling them down all the way to your ankles. He stepped away and grabbed a new needle and ink. With another alcohol wipe, he cleaned a spot on your inner thigh before comfortably situating himself on his knees between your legs. You felt the small, frequent pokes of the needle as he got to work on the tattoo. Seeing him on his knees between your thighs made your stomach flutter. You knew that was his favorite place to be and having the tattoo there seemed like he was marking it as his own. As he was working, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, eliciting a whine from you. He paused his work and glanced up at you, struggling to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. You avoided his eye and he got back to work, but his hand bumped your clit more often. Each time left you desperate for more. You so badly wanted to close your legs and rub your thighs together or reach down and get yourself off, but you had to stay still. His hand brushed against you once more, causing you to squirm a little. 
“Keep still.” 
You glared down at him. “I’m trying to, but you keep-” He did it again and this time you were one hundred percent sure it was on purpose. Grumbling under your breath, you leaned back against the seat and did your best to keep still as he finished up. Once he was done, he wiped off the excess ink. 
“We should probably secure the place since we’re gonna be spendin’ the night here,” he suggested. 
“But Daryl,” you whined, “you can’t just leave me like this. You knew what you were doing earlier!” 
"Wha? Givin' you a tattoo?" You huffed and rolled your eyes and reached down to pull your pants back up, but he stopped you. 
"I'm jus' playin' darlin'. Sit back." He gently pushed you back into the chair before getting back on his knees. Slowly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles with your formerly discarded pants and yanked them both off over your shoes. He firmly gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat and placed your legs over his shoulders. Feeling his hot tongue lick up and down your soaked slit had you gripping the arm rests for support. With his thumb, he rubbed slow, teasing circles on your hard clit. His tongue was a welcome intrusion in your soaked entrance. You gasped and moaned out his name and your hands flew to his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his soft locks. This motivated him to rub faster circles on your clit, earning more gasps and moans from you. His tongue thrusted in and out of your dripping cunt as he tasted all of your juices, refusing to let any go to waste. You tugged his hair as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head and he moaned unexpectedly, the vibrations from it bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around the pink muscle as he focused it on that one spot that always did things to you. 
"Daryl, please! I'm so close," you whined, desperate for him to bring you to your orgasm. If he weren't trapped between your plush thighs, he would've talked you through it, but instead he moved his lips to your clit and started sucking on it while prodding the bud with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut as the white hot waves of pleasure overtook your body. Daryl worked faster once he felt you tense up and your thighs convulsing around his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair as your toes curled. You could the vibration of his pleasured grunts against your soft flesh. 
"I'm gonna-" your back arched and head fell back as he pushed you over the edge, immersing you in a world of pleasure. He continued to lap at your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. Once you came down from that high, you relaxed and slumped against the chair. Daryl reluctantly freed himself from between your thighs since he needed to catch his breath again. His dick was straining against his pants with how hard he was just from hearing your sounds of pleasure and tasting your pretty pussy. And now, just seeing your fucked out face made him want to cum in his pants. 
 In one quick swipe, he cleared a nearby table of all its supplies. He picked you up from the chair with ease, tossing you over his shoulder before gently laying you onto the table. He made quick work of freeing his erection from his pants and stroked it a few times, causing precum to bubble up on the angry red tip. He lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds teasingly. 
"So wet fer me, baby," he groaned as he lined himself up with your needy hole. You wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate for him to fill you up. Your body welcomed him as he slid in easily. 
"Yer takin' me so good, sunshine." He leaned down and connected his lips with yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His tongue danced with yours as you kissed each other passionately. Large, rough hands palmed at your clothed tits as he started thrusting into you. Frustrated with your shirt, he hurriedly pulled it over your head before attaching his lips to your neck, roughly sucking and biting your skin. His tongue slid over your carotid artery, feeling how fast your heart was beating. You clumsily tugged at his shirt and vest, a silent plea for him to take them off, which he did. When he was with you, his insecurities were non existent. You tightly gripped his shoulders, nails digging hollow indents into his skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts. 
"Feel so good," you slurred. He kissed open mouthed kisses down your body, occasionally leaving marks in his wake. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, your second orgasm approaching fast. He was close too, you could feel it in the way  his cock twitched inside you and his pace became slower snd less rhythmic. 
"I'm boutta cum, baby," he groaned. You wanted to tell him you were, too, but your mind was a jumbled mess that was drunk off his cock. When your second orgasm came, your walls tightly hugged his shaft, squeezing him closer to his own climax. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself the rest of the way. His mouth fell open and eyes rolled back as he shot white hot ropes of cum all over your naked body. 
 He collapsed into a nearby chair, panting for air. You slid off the table and joined him in the chair by sitting on his lap. Both your bodies were coated in the thin sheen of sweat as you held each other close as exhaustion took over your bodies. 
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ratedfleur · 2 days
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gunwook and dacryphilia (except gun is the one crying 🫠)
I’M GONNA SCREAM 😭 i got like 3 of these in three days, idk if that was you though..
🔞: dacryphilia
gunwook looks so pretty when he cries, he has the type of face where you would feel bad even if he tears up in front of you.
your hand delicately touches his cheek when gunwook’s eyes start to water when you slapped him, your lip juts out slightly as you coo, “it’s okay, baby.. you’re okay.. i just want you to listen, hmm?” you say in a soft voice meanwhile gunwook nods tearfully, mustering up the courage to take whatever you gave him.
“that’s enough punishing for now, can you lie down for me?” you say as you pat his cheek comfortingly, you smile when gunwook follows and gets comfortable underneath you. gunwook visibly shudders when your hands delicately touch his waist as you sat on his thighs, your hand moves down to his rock hard cock— wrapping it around his length which makes gunwook whimper as he watches you pump his length.
“baby please..” gunwook whimpers when you hush him, simply continuing as you jerked his poor cock off. it had been an hour and a half since you kept on pulling him away from his orgasms, gunwook knew very well he had to take what you gave him after the move he had pulled when the group had a little get together. gunwook was acting way too moody after you had refused to give him a blowjob in the car.
watching as gunwook shook like a leaf, you shake your head with a smile as gunwook sniffles as he wipes his tears away. “you’re okay, baby. you can cum whenever you can, hmm? you did good.” you say with a smile as gunwook nods, “thank you, baby.. thank you— i’m sorry.” he sniffles before he moans and throws his head back when you tighten up your hand around his cock.
his own grunt interrupts him as he tried to speak, you coo as cum shoots out of his cock, spurts of cum land on his chest as gunwook pants, face all red as he whined as he came all over your hand and himself.
gunwook’s cheeks are plum colored underneath his red face, his hands reach for your waist, pulling you close as he makes you lie down beside him despite being covered in his cum. “i’m sorry, baby.” gunwook says as he kisses your cheek, watching as you smiled at him, “it’s okay, i like seeing you cry anyway.” you say whilst he whines in embarrassment, making you laugh heartily as you kissed your boyfriend’s cheek.
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howlingday · 3 days
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This meme about jaune has been making the rounds on the beacon message board. What exactly did jaune do to inspire it do you think?
It all started with a simple prank. Cardin Winchester took some fire dust, had it carefully broken down into smaller shards, and carried it into his sparring match with Jaune. The leader of Team JNPR has a vast reserve of aura, so it should be caught and keep him safe from harm. Just a prank between dudes, nothing too bad.
This is not what happened. Cardin shouted "POCKET DUST" thinking he was hilarious, and the fire dust got into Jaune's hoodie, into Jaune's pockets, and into Jaune's EYES. The young paladin was covered in fire dust and was in agony. Screaming in his literal blinding pain, he knocked Cardin off the stage with a single strike of his sword, then knocked Professor Goodwitch over as he ran into the locker room. Once inside, screams echoed as Yang Xiao Long punched Jaune through solid concrete for running into the girl's shower with him. The wet fist smashing into his face delivered water to his dusted eyes, which made the pain worse.
Jaune roared his agony so loudly that Faunus students across the school had to cover their ears. Jaune found his way to his feet and stumbled across the school. He'd made it to the courtyard when veteran huntsmen arrived to incapacitate and treat him, but that was when the legend truly became known.
Due to his thrashingly violent state, Jaune had to be sedated with tranquilizers. Unfortunately, the needes only reached through his aura enough to prick him, but not enough to actuate the plunger inside. Jaune Arc stumbled about, bellowing his misery loud enough that Velvet passed out, covered in needles, swinging his fists at anyone who tried to get close and knocking them easily to the ground.
Thankfully, such rage only exhausted him and he finally slumped over and was treated as soon as he was down. When he awoke in the infirmary, his team was around him and the FIRST thing any of them asked was Nora, scroll in hand, asking, "Have you seen the memes?!"
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mrsnancywheeler · 2 days
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dude my billy brainrot is so bad rn!
anyways, ok so the band and muse go to a party, and this time billy is in a good mood and is obsessed with her. hes being really clingy and is just so in love with her. but then eddie starts flirting with her and says "you could do so much better than him". billy finds out and him and eddie almost get in a fist fight. but after eddie and billy almost fight billy goes to his muse and is all like "im sorry baby, i couldnt handle what he was saying, i really hope you know that i love you" and they fuck. but then the next day he is avoiding her a bunch and getting touchy with the other groupies and she is like "should i have listened to eddie?" i feel like this would happen earlier in their relationship before muse knows the cycle her and billy always go through
-🦋
billy dunne is literally my life
you're basically wrapped around billy the entire night, you both do a line off of each other, share drinks, it's like he's in a haze of just being entranced by you. he cannot stop kissing you, his arms wrapped securely around you, you're basically on his lap all night.
"I'm gonna write you a whole album, baby." and the feeling of his voice so near your neck makes you giggle which just makes him smile, "what?"
you shake your head smiling, "nothing." he keeps looking at you expectantly which makes you laugh again, "nothing! billy, I just-"
"you don't believe me? oh, that's what this is, you don't think I'm telling the truth!" somehow he's holding you tighter, his smile, the way he jokes makes your head fuzzy, well so does the drinks, but he does a number on you. the way he laughs, smiles, it's addictive.
"no, no, no, I do, I swear, scout's honor!"
"I think that only applies to actual boy scouts, baby."
"shut up" you kiss him and his lips make you dizzy, just as yours make him. when you finally pull apart he's just holding your face for a while.
"god, you're stunning, do I tell you that a lot? because you're so pretty. can I do another line off of you?"
you just rasp out a, "yes" and you've forgotten how public you are really at a party when you let him adjust you enough to do a line of your cleavage.
"let me go get us another drink, baby, I'll be right back."
"okay." you're smiling, adjusting your shirt as he squeezes your hand before he's off. no sooner is he gone then eddie is appearing
"he's only being that way for now, you know" he's drunk, you know he is to be so openly digging at billy like that.
"eddie-"
"two weeks ago he was doing lines off of some other chick's rack-"
"he didn't mean that eddie."
"he didn't mean what he did?"
"he fucked up, it was a mistake, eddie, it doesn't change anything."
"you don't deserve that." eddie is leaning closer over the couch rest, "you deserve better than him, the first guy you saw at the concert."
you stare back at him for a while, "eddie, if you think you could treat me so much better, you'd let me enjoy my night. which I was."
"one night is all he'll give you before he decides you're not that special anymore-"
"what the hell are you talking about, man?" billy is making his reappearance and you know eddie must be even more drunk when you thought when he doesn't even really try to cover.
"use your imagination." and eddie's words have barely escaped his mouth when billy's punched him in the face. eddie stumbles back for a second, but punches billy back and you've leapt up to get between them. and eddie's looking at you, shaking his head like he's done, and walking out. "whatever, man"
"eddie!" you're shouting, but he's gone, and you have other things to worry about. "billy, oh my god are you okay?"
"I'm fine, god, we need to find a new fucking bassist"
"don't do that, gimme your hand." you're looking at his knuckles and he's entranced by the way your brows furrow. "you can't just punch someone everytime they bruise your ego." his hand is suddenly moving to tilt your chin up, where he's smiling in disbelief.
"baby, that's not why I punched him." you're unamused by this. "I'm serious! baby, I did it because he was talking about you. acting like I didn't care about my girl. the girl I love."
"you love me?"
he looks dumbfounded by the question, "I just write all my songs about you, you basically live with me, I need you like air, so yeah, I do."
"that's good because I am so in love with you."
"this would be pretty awkward if you didn't." and next thing you know he's got you back at the house, laying on his bed as he proves it to you, it's really not fucking, it's raw, it's love making, and he makes you feel so appreciated.
that's until you wake up, and he pulls himself away just when you try to put an arm on him when you've woken up. he gets up, showers without a word, gets dressed, only says morning back when you say it, and walks out of the room. suddenly you feel like a one night stand, someone he never wants to see again, and there's a pit in your stomach. he knows it's because saying love has scared him, but he can't communicate that, he's just got to be destructive.
breakfast is him laying out instructions for everyone, moving away every time you try to get close, at some point you try to take a drag off his cigarette and he looks unbelievably annoyed which just shuts you down. and the ride to the studio is unbearably quiet, it makes you want to cry the way he doesn't acknowledge you.
it's gets worse at the studio when he doesn't acknowledge you at all and during a break is talking to the groupies, laughing, doing lines, having a drink, hands on them, and you do a line to deal with it before sitting back in the emoti studio so you don't have to deal with it. it's so fucking confusing. you're laying on the studio carpet when eddie walks in, looks at you, and lays down too.
you feel the energy of 'i told you so' radiating off of him, "eddie-"
"are you okay?"
there's a beat, "he told me loved me last night." another beat, "is this what it feels like to be loved?"
and he's rolling onto his side to look at you, "no."
you wish you didn't start crying, "then what did I do wrong since then? why is he doing this to me, I don't know why I'm not good enough."
"you are, he's too fucking stupid to notice what he's got right if front of him." and he's lighting a cigarette, handing it to you, "let's go to the record store, find something to listen to later. we can use my record player, you know it sounds better on mine."
and you do exactly that and wonder if maybe this is what it feels like to be loved, but it doesn't take away the desire your soul has for billy dunne. even if it makes you think that eddie could love you better.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months
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IMAGINE. working at ur stupid uhhh job or whatever. pulling into your drive way and ready to work on some crazy project in your garage. opening the door to the most unfamiliar silence. did your wife and kid leave for something? could you imagine knocking on your kids door, hardly getting an answer, and opening it to find the splattered remains of your wife across his room your child is scared! hes hardly consolable, in a state of shock and terror. you are too, but youre the adult here. you need to take charge. you need to protect him. you need to do something. you need to do something.
#cw gore#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi pd spoilers#ashe winters#LOOOORRRD HELP ME THIS IS A YEAR OLD AND I HAAAATE LOOKIN AT IIITTTT ALL I CAN SEE ARE MY MISTAAAKESSS RRAAGHHHGGG ITS FINE THOUGH#ITS FIIIINE ITS ALL FIIIIIIINE!! IM HARSHER ON MY ART THAN ANYONE ELSE ITS FIIIIIINE IIITTSFFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINEEEE#ANWYAY SO I THINK ALOT ABOUT THE FACT HE KILLED HIS MOM. FUUUUCKED UP. POOR GUY.. i wish i could learn more about what that day was like#the lil scenario wrote is my own silly little headcanon. but what really happened on that day? was mark there? or did he come home to it?#how violent was it really? was ashe awake the whole time? does he remember exactly how he killed her? does he remember?#who was mrs winters? what was she like? i like to think she was the one that gave ashe the book. taught him what she could before. yknow.#did ashe or mark try to destroy it afterwards? i could imagine mark throwing it into a fire. only for it to reappear with ashe#maybe ashe couldnt destroy it but i could imagine him hiding it. hiding away from it. and yet when we find him he holds it so close#its the only thing he can do! no super powers or anything. this was it. why would he ever throw away the only thing hes good at?#AND GOOD GOD MARK... TURNING TO MERCENARY WORK OVER IT ALL... SELLING HIS SOUL TO A LAbortory that changed him in immense ways#when did it get bad enough for him to start covering his face? what was ashe thinking? he knew his dad was up to something but what?#maRK HAS SUUUCH A CRAZY KILL COUNT TOO. I THINK THE HIGHEST IN THE SERIES IF WE'RE NOT LOOKIN AT THE GODS OR WATEV#MASS MURDER. MAN HAS COMMITTED MASS MURDER AND BROKE OUT OF SUPER VILLAIN PRISON WITH A PEN. MAN BUILDS IRON MAN SUITS IN HIS BASEMENT#OKay okay enough of my ramblin okayokay i just REALLY LOVE THIS SSHHOOOOWWW DUUUDEE EEUUGHTHTHHRHGHGH I LOVE THE WINTERS FAMILY...
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lxnarphase · 3 months
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ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ๋࣭ ⭑
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special treatment : thighs edition
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna
☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped
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✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.
"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"
✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.
"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!
✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.
"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."
✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.
"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work
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fluffylino · 4 months
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pussy drunk minho
he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~
-contains mature themes
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"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.
now that was a lie.
"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.
"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.
"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.
"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.
"deal"
"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.
the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.
if he could dom you. you could dom him.
his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."
so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.
"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.
minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.
and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.
a lie honestly.
his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.
it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.
.
.
the day one was fine.
he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.
day three was when you noticed him staring.
you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.
so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.
eyes locked onto your covered heat.
"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.
"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.
when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.
"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.
.
"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.
"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.
"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.
stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.
.
.
"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.
first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.
"are you gonna be a goo-"
"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.
"yes yes. now can i-"
"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.
"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.
"promise?"
"hmmmm"
you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.
"wh-"
his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.
inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.
using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.
a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.
"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.
"may i...please?"
you nodded. satisfied.
.
you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.
nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.
so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.
"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.
you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.
"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.
pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.
"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.
"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.
"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.
his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.
a muffled whimper escaping him.
"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.
"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.
lips swollen and red.
"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.
"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"
"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.
"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.
"c-come on kitty, make me cum"
you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.
a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.
nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.
small little whines leaving him at your taste.
"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.
"good k-kitty?"
"did so good for me"
.
.
"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"
"AHAH SO I WON-"
.
.
.
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bi-writes · 2 months
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mmmm i have thoughts about being threatened because you're simon riley's girl and them realizing that you're not the lady in distress they thought you would be (18+)
it is late when you get to your car. your shoulders sag from a long night at work, and you can't wait to curl up on the couch with something warm to eat and something strong to drink to lull you into a peaceful sleep tonight.
you're alone. he should be home any day now, but you aren't fortunate enough to know when that is. that is how this works, and you accepted that a long time ago. if anything, it made you appreciate the times when he is close, when he is at home. it makes your connection special, and you are comforted by the fact that your bond is more than physical.
your eyes droop, and you don't pay attention to the vehicle three cars behind you that's been tailing you since you left. you press the brake and toe the accelerator on autopilot and memory alone, and you zone out as you cross familiar streets. you think you saw a new movie to watch last night, and you think about how nice it'll be to play it as you cook dinner.
you park in your usual spot, getting out and shutting the door behind you. you open the backseat, grabbing your bag and closing the door. in the reflection of the mirror, you see someone behind you, just standing there.
you react first. you toss your head back and smack him with the back of your skull, and you're satisfied when you hear the telltale crunch of a nose breaking. when you spin around to face him, he's shouting, cradling his nose, but he flicks a blade out quickly, pressing you up against your car and putting the sharp edge to your neck.
"fuck!" he cries. "fuck! what did you fucking do?!"
you raise a brow, "you sneak up on a lady like that, and you wanna start complaining?"
"shut the fuck up," he snapped. you don't flinch, even as he digs the blade a little more into your neck. you tighten your jaw at the feeling of the edge pricking you a little. you narrow your eyes, tilting your head to the side.
"this isn't random...is it?" you ask. he stands tall, taller than you at least. he's a scrawny thing, but he's still bigger than you, and he has a weapon. his pupils are a little dilated, telling you he have taken something for the edge, and he fidgets. he's wearing a black bandana to cover the lower half of his face, but you can see the peek of brunette curls and the wild green of his eyes. you memorize the eyes, the accent--ukranian, georgian, russian? you try to place it as he speaks again.
"mm..." he shakes his head, "you're smart girl, i'll give you that."
you click your tongue, "then i don't have to tell you what a bad idea this is, do i?"
"it's because of that, that's why i'm doing this--" he comes closer, and his breath stinks, even through the mask. "they fucked with me, so i'll fuck with them. starting with their whores."
you tilt your head to the side, "oh...you really..." you smile a little, and it is off-putting. he frowns a bit momentarily. the smile you wear startles him. "you really don't get it."
"no, this is--"
"they won't just come for you," you whisper. "they're going to come for your family. mom. dad. sisters. brothers. cousins, friends--" you grit your teeth, "anyone that even so much as opens a fucking door for you or shines your goddamn shoes is going to lose a limb, are you ready for that?" you snarl a bit. "and when they find you, which they will, believe me--" you laugh, "it will be slow. it will be painful. you think you're the first?"
"fucking--"
"you aren't," you snap. "you're not the first, and you won't be the last." you glare at him, meeting his crazed eyes, and you take a deep, shaking breath. "so i want you to think again about what you're doing. i want you think about what it is you're going to do. because for every scratch they find on me...they are going to give it back to you." you blink, "so think. i'll wait."
you lean back against your car, your posture relaxed, your feet steady. it unnerves him, how calm you are. how you don't flinch, how nothing scares you, not even with his blade right against your soft skin. it doesn't phase you, and it's terrifying.
"they stole from me," he says finally. "eye for an eye. you'll just have to accept that."
you sigh, pouting a little.
"god, i...i really wish...i really wish you hadn't said that."
you bang on your car with one hand, drawing his attention away from you for just a moment. with your other, you slip your keys into your fist and you swing. you block his knife-wielding arm, sinking the pointed end of the key into his face, and you go for the vulnerable spots. back to his bleeding, broken nose, against his mouth, and the finishing blow, right into his eye.
he screams, the knife clattering to the floor, and he drops to his knees, cradling his bloody face. his hands shake, and you put your foot to his chest and kick, knocking him onto his back on the pavement.
you pick up the blade, holding it steady before you step on his neck, making him wheeze. he thrashes, preoccupied with wondering if he'll go blind in one eye.
"i told you," you spit. "you're not the first."
for a moment, your resolve breaks. your lip trembles, and you squeeze the handle of the blade tight for stability. this is the price you pay for loving someone. this is what you must do to keep a ghost, and although you feel strong and resilient and capable, you feel fear, too.
"he'll have to be the last, then."
your head snaps to the side when you hear it. he stands on the sidewalk, duffel bag at his feet. he's still wearing his gear--and fuck, he looks so big when he wears it. he looks so broad, the boots make him just that much taller, and it seems as if he hasn't had time to unload the artillery he normally wears. there's a gun holstered to his thigh and magazines stuffed into their pockets in his vest. he still wears his mask, eye-black smeared messily across his pale face.
it means he came here immediately--it means he didn't have time to undress. it means he wanted to come home, and come home fast.
you breathe easier when you see him there. when you step aside and the man beneath you gets a look at him with his good eye, he starts to cry. he sputters, starts to beg, but it falls on deaf ears.
the gravel on the pavement crunches under his boots as he comes near. like a magnet, a gloved hand comes up and grips you firmly on the back of the neck, and you lean up on your toes, tilting your head back just enough to kiss him through the mask.
it's soft, sweet, a little hungry after the time apart. you pull away slowly, smiling up at him. he narrows his eyes, angry, but it isn't at you.
"missed you," you whisper, and he grips your jaw with one big hand, tilting your head to the side. he grunts when he sees the thin line left behind from the blade, tiny droplets of blood beginning to peek out from it. "missed you so much--"
you gasp when his hand falls and gropes you. cupping one side of your ass, squeezing the fat of it in his paw and drawing you near. he pressed the front of you against him, despite the layers that separate you, and he hisses.
"are you olright?"
you nod. "just fine. he's new at this, i think."
you hum as he squeezes your ass again, patting it gently before nodding back towards home.
"get inside," he leans down and presses his covered mouth to yours again, and you can feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest. "gonna rid y'of the rubbish, sweetheart."
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mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄
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DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK
With: Satoru Gojo
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo
A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps
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Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him. 
But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.
And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.
It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough. 
A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment? 
His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.
Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.
But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”
He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”
You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.
Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”
Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now. 
Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”
He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.
You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything. 
He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.
You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.
He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.
You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”
You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”
He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat. 
Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.
You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.
“Hmm?”
He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.” 
You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out. 
“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.
You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”
“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.
Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward. 
He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.
You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”
He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.
You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.
When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.
You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”
“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.
You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”
But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.
You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.
Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.
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griffonsgrove · 3 months
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Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD
General Dating Headcanons | Vox
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a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
wordcount: 1299
cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.
(PLATONIC):
Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.
However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.
When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 
You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 
You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??
You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.
You didn't care too much for the latter.
This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 
You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.
You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.
One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??
He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.
He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.
He def goes through your search history.
He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.
You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.
OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.
You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.
But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.
(ROMANTIC):
Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.
Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.
That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.
Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.
He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.
Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.
CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.
Insecure much?
Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.
Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.
You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.
You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 
Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.
Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.
Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?
He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.
He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.
He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.
He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.
And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.
If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)
The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.
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greg-montgomery · 2 months
Note
Texting bf's dad hotch by accident when you're drunk and trying to get your bf to pick you up...
this idea >>>>
also aaron has another son besides jack in this
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
They were just a few margaritas. You didn’t expect a casual girl’s night to turn into a pounding headache and a room that was spinning around you.
It was fun and your friends wanted to stay longer, but your upset stomach would not let you enjoy the rest of your night. You were more than ready to get out of there.
“I’m gonna ask my boyfriend to come pick me up,” you told your friends, who seemed a bit too drunk to process your words.
As carefully as you could, you made your way outside the bar, and took your phone out of your purse. Going through your contacts you stopped when you spotted your boyfriend’s name.
‘Babe can you come and pick me up? I can’t drive’
You hit send, and right after, you shared your location with him.
‘I’ll be there in 20.’
Oh.
That was it? No whining? No scolding you for drinking too much? No complaining about you being an inconvenience?
It was a full moon; maybe he was going through some kind of transformation.
You closed your eyes for a bit and rested your head against the wall. The minutes would simply not pass fast enough. I’m never drinking again, you thought.
Your phone buzzed in your hands and a new message flashed across the screen.
‘I’m here.’
You were ready to lift your head and search for his car, but your eyes were glued on the contact name that appeared above the text you had just received.
It didn’t say Mark. It said Mark’s dad.
No way, you thought. No way, I asked Aaron Hotchner to come pick me up from a bar because I’m wasted.
But that was exactly what you had done.
The word embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover the range of emotions you were feeling at that moment; especially as you watched him get out of his car and walking towards you.
Why did he have to look so good? As if drunk texting him wasn’t embarrassing enough, he had to look like a god in a suit that cost more than your monthly rent.
‘Mr. Hotchner,” you said, when he approached you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to text you. I wanted to text Mark, but I got confused and God…I’m so, so dizzy.”
 His expression stayed serious, but he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get in the car.”
Aaron opened the door for you and held your hand so you could get inside. You expected him to close the door but instead he leaned over you and fastened your seatbelt for you.
Your heart started jumping around at the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his face so close to yours. You weren’t proud of it, but Aaron Hotchner was your forbidden desire. And the star of more dirty dreams than you’d ever dare to admit.
His thick fingers brushed against your stomach as he made sure that your seatbelt was tight enough to keep you safe.
You shut your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm your body down.
“Are you alright?” he asked, softly.
His deep voice was the cherry on top that had you melting on your seat.
“Yeah,” you answered weakly. “Just dizzy.”
He closed the door and made his way to the other side, and soon he was on the driver’s seat.
There was a small water bottle in the cup holder and he picked it up. “Here,” he offered, “Have some water. It’ll help.”
“Thank you,” you said taking it from his hands, and shivered at the contact when your fingers brushed.
The bottle was half empty which meant he already had some of it before you. He had wrapped his lips around it; around where your lips were now.
You devoured any water that was left and realized how bad you needed to get hydrated. “I needed that.”
“I can tell,” he laughed. “Come on,” he added, and started the car. “Let’s take you home.”
“Were you asleep?”
“Hm?””
“When I texted you. Did I wake you up?” you asked with a worried tone.
“I rarely sleep, honey. You don’t have to worry about me.”
You pressed your thighs together at the sound of the pet name and the sight of his hands around the wheel.
“Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said. “You needed me.”
“I did,” you said, breathless. “Mark would…”
You paused.
“Go on.”
You hesitated. “He would have probably told me to call a cab.”
“He’d let his girl get in the car with a stranger in the middle of the night? When she’s drunk?”
“Sometimes he gets upset with things like that. And, listen, I get it. I can be trouble sometimes.”
“Oh you can be,” Aaron said. “But not for the reasons you think.”
“What do you mean?”
He ignored your question, but it didn’t take too long before he spoke again.
“I’m gonna have a word with him. He’s not treating you well.”
“No, please don’t.”
The only thing that talk would achieve would be Mark getting upset with you.
There was a long pause, and you took advantage of the silence to stare at him. His side profile, his hands, his arms. He was perfect.
‘I wish Mark was more like you,” you said before thinking any better.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t say things like that.”
“I could say way worse.”
He chuckled. “Unless you want both of us to get in trouble, don’t.”
“But-”
Aaron reached out to hold your hand, making you go quiet. “You’re drunk. But what I do want you to know is that I’m always here, okay?”
“Okay.”
He squeezed your hand and didn’t let go the entire ride home.
part 2
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catiuskaa · 3 months
Text
need you to [Lee] Know.
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SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.
REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3
CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol
WC: 1.2k
A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩
[🔅★🌼★🔅]
Minho was not the type to show his affection.
He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.
“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”
It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.
“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.
Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.
“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”
What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.
“You think so?”
And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.
As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.
“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”
Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.
“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”
He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.
“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”
Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.
“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.
Maybe he had been taking you for granted?
He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.
“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.
“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.
You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.
“No what?” You mutter.
He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.
“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”
He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.
“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.
And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.
“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.
Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.
“Min, I’m so sorry.”
“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”
He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.
He loves you.
So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.
“I love you.”
And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”
You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.
“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.
“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”
Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.
You want to say it too. But in his own way.
So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.
It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.
“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.
You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.
“Lee Minho! Put me down!”
But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.
“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.
He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.
He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.
“You have twenty minutes.”
You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.
“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”
It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.
Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.
He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.
He’s not letting go anytime soon.
~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!
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sixosix · 5 months
Text
and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche
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forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k
ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there
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“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”
Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.
Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”
“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.
Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”
“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.
“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”
“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”
Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.
You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”
Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”
You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”
“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”
What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”
He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”
“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?
Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.
Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”
At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”
Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.
Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?
“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.
“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”
“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”
You made a face.
Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.
You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.
You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”
You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.
scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.
You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.
Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.
Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.
It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.
You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.
“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”
You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”
YEARS AGO.
Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.
Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.
“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”
He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.
Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”
Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.
You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”
“Even if I hurt you?”
You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”
Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”
The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”
Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…
You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.
You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”
Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”
Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.
Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”
The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.
“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”
“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.
“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.
“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.” 
Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”
“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.
Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”
At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.
“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”
Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”
You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.
“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.
You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.
“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.
Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”
“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.
Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”
You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.
The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.
“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.
“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.
A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”
Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.
Heizou beamed. “Scara!”
“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.
It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.
“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.
Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”
“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.
“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.
Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”
Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.
Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”
“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”
The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.
You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.
You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.
“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.
The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.
As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.
You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”
“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”
“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”
You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.
I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.
But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.
Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.
“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”
“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.
Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.
When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.
Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.
“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.
“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”
An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.
“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.
“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.
Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”
Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”
Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.
“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”
“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”
“What? No!”
“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”
There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”
Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”
You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.
Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”
“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.
“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.
You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”
“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.
“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.
Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.
Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”
The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.
“Are you scared of me?”
You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.
“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”
“You changed your number. You moved out.”
“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.
“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”
“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.
Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?
Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.
“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”
Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”
No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.
“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.
You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”
“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”
What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.
You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”
Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.
“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”
Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.
You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.
He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.
“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.
“At least say it back!”
“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.
“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”
Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”
You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”
“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”
You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.
wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!
ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us
Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.
As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.
“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”
“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”
“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.
“So you’re close.”
“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”
Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.
You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.
Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.
“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.
“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.
Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”
You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.
As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.
Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”
“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.
Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”
“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”
“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”
You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.
“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.
“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”
Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”
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a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD
also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA
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dancewithdeath11 · 29 days
Text
Say Sorry
Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader
Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself. 
Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none, 
Word Count: 1.2k
======
“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”
It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?
It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going. 
One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up. 
“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs. 
“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again. 
He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?” 
Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that. 
“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man. 
“No-”
“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.
“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed. 
But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.
The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow. 
“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition. 
Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.
He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls. 
He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”
God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was. 
“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”
“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly. 
It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you. 
You’d never doubt your best friend again…
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Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)
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