#Even though it's dialogue is awful

[leilanising]

Hi, could I request for a drawing where Bumblebee from Cyberverse meets Starscream from Armada, plis 👉🏻👈🏻

Absolutely!! Thanks so much for the art request, and I rlly hope u like it! <3

Bumblebee: *is rlly excited to meet a genuinely nice Starscream, and is asking a tone of questions*

Starscream: *looks at bumblebee* "🐶?"

[moeblob]

I love Chris so much you guys.

[oblivions-dawn]

Last Line [is a cop out]

I was sniped by @thequeenofthewinter to share the last line I wrote and it's been ages since I shared any writing . . . although this feels rather pathetic if you ask me, couldn't have landed on a worse line--

Tagging uhhhhh @umbracirrus @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @throughtrialbyfire @stormbeyondreality @blossom-adventures @bostoniangirl21 @dirty-bosmer and YOU. If you want. No obligations of course uwu Now for my . . . . literal last line:

“That’s it! You’ve done it!” Esbern exclaimed with glee.

That's it that's all thank you KLDJFGLKDFJG

[professorjirt]

not to be bitter about the Durins again but it will never stop pissing me off to a burning degree that in the movies Kíli dies off in a little corner with no one but one elf he met two days ago around, and she’s nerfed to the point she’s utterly helpless until RIGHT AFTER he’s killed. It feels so bullshit and unfulfilling. I remember me and a friend were huge fans of the Durins (her even more than me) as well as the little Kíli and Tauriel side story back when the movies came out, and we watched it in theatres and she literally said she would never watch that scene again bc it disappointed her so badly. She skips it to this day. Bc why the fuck did they have Kíli die for an elf he barely knew (I like Tauriel but it is true— they’ve known each other for maybe two or three days total) over the family he ran out into battle to defend, the family he set out on the quest with and the family that he was so proud of. Why was he not with his brother, or trying to defend his uncle who was still very much alive and in danger? Tauriel literally just serves to get Kíli killed in that scene, bc they nerf her (CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD. Even against a tough orc she should be holding her own) but have Legolas out there holding his own, and it is nowhere NEAR as emotionally devestating as the single sentence we’re given in the book of how Kíli and Fíli went down defending their uncle. I can almost excuse the change in how Fíli dies bc it does hold emotional weight, but Kíli’s death going from the devotion of family even to his own doom into dying for an elf he has puppy love for while being totally cut off from the other dwarves fucking killed the scene for me. And there isn’t really even a good payoff for Tauriel afterward either. We just leave her there regretting she ever loved him. It hurts me so damn much, and not least of which is because for every video someone does as a tribute to Thorin and his nephews, it always takes a sharp left turn into Tauriel watching Kíli die all by himself and it doesn’t even feel related to the other’s deaths. I think it would have felt much more like the best of both if they’d kept Kíli dying defending his family, and then have Tauriel come to him as he’s dying. But that’s not what happened. It fucking sucks. I promise I do like the movies but I will stand hard by saying that it’s weakest writing is the latter half of the second and the former half of the third movie. It only really picks up to consistently good scenes at Thorin’s battle with Azog in my opinion. Sorry for another brief hater moment but man. Man.

[a-murmur-of-a-prayer]

mcu rant time yippee

So I was rewatching that scene from Age Of Ultron where Steve and Tony chop logs to inspire my new Supernatural fic (don't ask why lmao) and. Guys. Joss Whedon just writes fucking awful dialogue. I haven't been hardcore into the MCU in a long time, and the stuff I've stayed interested in is mostly Captain America movies and some of the TV shows.

I honestly have no idea why the majority of people like the mainstream Avengers films so much. Like yeah I like the characters a lot, but compared to their solo movies everything is so contrived and stiff. Every other word is an action movie buzzword meant for trailer fodder, the conversations don't really give away anything we don't really know, characters are too one-dimensional - compare this to The Winter Soldier, literally the preceding movie, where yes the dialogue is still Marvel-esque, but the message of the movie is genuinely important (almost more so today), characters actually have deep conversations and seem like real people, and the plot is smaller and more focused. (Not to mention the contrast between the way Natasha is treated in both those movies.)

Sorry for the rant - I just haven't watched any of the core Avengers movies in so long and I forgot how much I hate the way Joss Whedon in particular writes movies.

[featherymainffins]

Now this might be because I have issues but is it just me or does Slay The Princess feel like an allegory for a relationship?

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

well, well, well, if it isn't my old nemesis: Dialogue Between Three (3) People

[bixels]

It's crazy how Dungeon Meshi's manga can feel more cinematic and emotional than the anime to me, even when they're practically the same. Compared to the anime, this moment is such a heartbreaking gut-drop. The way Kui uses negative space and flat compositions to create a sense of horrific stillness is so key.

The way the text (Senshi's monologue) is sequestered to an empty corner of a panel or huddled away from the edge of its text box is not only a great way of showing Senshi's headspace (fearful, isolated, dissociating), but creates a visual representation of pause, as if you hold your breathe after each line. The first panel puts us directly in Senshi's perspective too (compared to in the anime, which puts us as an outside observer over Senshi's shoulder). The detail of the door and bricks so effectively implies that he stared at it for so long, waiting and hoping, that its image is burned in his memory. The wood grain, the brick arch, the number of rivets. The lack of dialogue in the second panel shows a moment of realization too –– "he's dead" (also a great example of the Kuleshov effect). And it's that pause that creates a beat and sets a great rhythm to his headspace, like a music rest: "He never came back." (oh god.) "I'm all alone." Finally, the third panel's negative space, cropping Senshi, shows how truly alone he feels. Without his family, the world ceases to exists. Under shock, he traps himself in a 1-foot radius, too scared to even perceive a world outside its boundaries; a world that can hurt him, kill him, make him disappear with it. There is only his body, the stone beneath his feet and against his back, his thoughts, and that awful bowl of soup.

Even though they're a series of flat images, there's an implicit reading of silence in Senshi's realization and horror. Kui influences your experience to slow down and take your time.

Compare this to the anime, which fills every shot with dialogue. The pacing is fast; we never get to sit in silence like we do with the manga. The horizontal frame allowed the boarders to add Senshi, turning the composition into an over-the-shoulder shot, which takes us out of Senshi's POV. They also added a zoom-out in shot one, which adds unnecessary energy to a very somber scene. The tightening on Senshi as a close-up reaction shot also dulls the moment. In the original panel, Senshi stares ahead at the empty space to his left as a shadow surrounds his mind. It not only shows how Senshi's senses are dulling and his world is shrinking (setting up panel three), but shows how terrified Senshi is of what's in front of him, how the air itself becomes pitch black and opaque, how Senshi is surrendering himself to fear. The pacing is understandable and necessary; this episode packed a lot of story content together. It's just a shame because it really (imo) deflated one of the most nauseating moments in Dungeon Meshi.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[ellecdc]

Hi, I've never done an ask before, so I'm sorry if it's not good. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, I won't care.

I just want something to do with Remus when it's near the full moon, like a day before, and he's just all protective of potter!reader and won't even James near her. Sorry if it's bad.

hi there! it's not a bad request at all! I'm actually such a sucker for this trope (as you probably all know from this, this and this), that I took this in a different direction to try and avoid rewriting the same plot again [though I happily would!] ALSO I made this background prongsfoot I'm sorry [no I'm not]

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who cannot be contained [795 words]

CW: siblings, everyone loves Remus, possessive Remus, I'm still struggling a bit with writers block so hopefully this isn't too terrible!

“Jamie please, for the love of all that is good in this world, hide me.” You squealed as you held onto your brother's ankles in a death grip and peered up at him from beneath the table you were currently crouched under with what you hoped to be your best puppy dog expression. 

“Why’re you hiding from your boyfriend this time, Trouble?” Sirius drawled as he bent down to peer at you from your brother's other side. 

You made a desperate sound in the back of your throat that sounded suspiciously close to a whine.

“You know how he gets this close to the moon.” You hissed urgently; every second your brother was not handing you the invisibility cloak and map, a second closer you were to being locked up in the boys dormitory for the next foreseeable future.

Were there worse things to be than held captive by your sweet, doting, lovely boyfriend? Absolutely, there were.

But- “and what? You Potter’s can’t be contained?” Sirius teased, interrupting your internal dialogue. “Is that it?”

“You know that’s it, you sod!” You spat as you swatted at his calf, earning you a retaliatory kick from your brother. 

“Oi! Just because you’re mad at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to be mean to mine.” 

“I’m not mad at my boyfriend, Jamie, I-”

“Better not be,” your brother muttered peevishly. “Moony is a delight.”

You let out an indignant scoff and levelled him with as severe a glare as you could muster from your place under the table. “If you like him so much, why don’t you volunteer to be held captive for the next few nights?” You sneered.

James slammed his hands on the table top and bent himself nearly in half to glare right back at you. “Don’t tempt me, bug; Moony is a fine specimen of a man and one would be lucky to be shacked up with him.” 

“I’m right here, Prongs.” Sirius sighed as he flipped to a new page of the Daily Prophet with a flourish.

“Was I wrong?” James asked in bemusement. 

“Well…no, but I’m still sitting right here.” 

“James, please.” You begged again.

“Is Remus even really that bad?” Lily asked from behind you, causing Sirius to scoff. 

“You don’t know the half of it, Red.” 

“He won’t even let James near me.” You explained tiredly, realising your mistake only when your response was met with silence.

“James… Fleamont… Potter, don’t you dare.”

“OI! REM!” He shouted over the Great Hall, and you launched yourself up at your brother from under the table - banged heads be damned - as you tackled him to the ground.

“You squealer, you are so dead!” 

“Moony- ow, Merlin’s tits - deserves better than you!”

“James!” Remus scolded then as he simply lifted you from your place atop your brother. “That’s an awful thing to say.”

“He’s horrid, Rem.” You pouted then, relishing in the disbelieving expression adorning James’ face. 

“You witch; she-”

“James, grow up.” Remus muttered then, pulling you tight against his body.

“She was just hiding from you, Moony! She was trying to evade your- your… nesting tendencies!” He accused defensively, causing Remus to snort.

“As she does every month. Is that all?” 

James made a desperate sound from the back of his throat as he looked at the two of you in disbelief.  “You knew she was hiding from you?” 

“Potter’s are notoriously difficult to keep contained and Remus is a smart bloke; it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, babe.” Sirius drawled from his place on the bench, still casually reading his newspaper as if his boyfriend hadn’t nearly been victimised by his own sister. 

“Dove, you whacked your head hard… are you okay?” Remus murmured at you then, and you grimaced as you brought a hand to a point on your head that was starting to pulse a little bit. 

“It really hurt, Moons; I think it’s gonna leave a bump.”

“Well yeah.” He cooed at you at the same time James muttered a petulant ‘good’. 

“Jamie, I love you, but if you start a fight with Moony, you are on your own.” 

“I’ll ice it for you in our dorm, yeah?” Remus whispered as he pressed a kiss to your hair beside the forming lump as everyone ignored their squawking friend, boyfriend, and brother. 

And James had to watch from the stone floor of the Great Hall as you simply allowed Remus to guide you towards the exit by a gentle hand on the small of your back as you offered him a two-fingered salute behind you. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me?!” He screeched.

Sirius sighed as he finally turned his unimpressed gaze to James. “You should’ve given her the map and cloak, Jamie.”

[minhosimthings]

Both || 18+

Synopsis: it's literally just porn I have no explanation

Pairings: bf!Heeseung × fem!reader × bf!Jake

Warnings: Smut MINORS DNI, oral ( f recieving), poly relationship, dom!Heeseung, dom!Jake, sub!reader, fingering, double penetration, p in v sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mean dom Heeseung, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal sex eyy, dacryphillia

A/N: so if any of you remember the symphony smut series, then you'll remember how the Skz threesome fic I had with MinChan was originally meant for HeeJake, but I didn't write it due to certain issues. BUT ITS HERE NOW. And no I didn't write a completely different fic, I just replaced the names from the original fix and rewrote some of the dialogue.

Original SKZ Version

Living with two boyfriends had been a much livelier experience than you would had initially thought. Or perhaps it was because they were Heeseung and Jake was what made it lively.

They were completely opposite to each other in all aspects. Which especially showed in the bedworks.

Heeseung was your drug for slavery while Jake was your poison for salvation.

Their duality was what turned you on, they could call you their little princess and give you as much pleasure as you wanted or they could tell you that you're their slut, with a pussy made only for them.

So it was no surprise that when you got mad with one, you went to another.

And on one fine Tuesday evening that's exactly what happened.

•••••••••••••••

"Princess are you alright?" Jake peeked his head around the door, his eyes taking time to adjust to the dim light. His ears were working though, and your sobs broke his heart. He didn't like it when you argued with Heeseung. He knew both of you were competitive, and competition never lead to much success, it usually led to tears and ignoring one another.

"If he sent you here-" you hiccuped, looking up at Jake, "Tell him I'm never going to talk to him again."

"You're so adorable." He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, his hands on your hips, "How about a little session hmm? To get your mind off things?"

"What if he hears?"

“Hyung has his headphones in” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. He pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “He won't hear what he's missing.”

Jake makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his primal instincts starts to kick in. In seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste for him right now. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“Never seen you so speechless before.” You tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the wet slick pooling at your entrance.

“What can I say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “I like having you all to myself.”

You open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. After that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins. He tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper.

His tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. It’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. He grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of drink he can get his mouth on.

Each precise stroke of Jake's tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. He was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. He breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

It’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

Your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. The coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. You don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

It takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure Jake hurtled you in. You watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

"Having fun there aren't you?"

Oh fucking no

You snapped your head up to look at the doorway, where your eyes fell on the image of Heeseung, casually leaning against the door, shit eating smirk on his face.

"Want a taste? I'm done." Jake got off the bed and plopped onto the nearby armchair.

"So the plan did work." Heeseung chuckled, taking off his jacket, and striding across the room, looking at your confused figure with bedroom eyes.

"What fucking plan?" You spat with venom in your tone, making Heeseung click his tongue together.

"Jaeyun here offered to help me after our little 'argument'." Heeseung dipped the bed down with his weight, "And let's just say, now that you're all riled like our pretty princess-" he took off his belt, "You won't refuse my fingers will you?"

"Fuck you Lee Heeseung, and you too." You directed the last part at Jake who merely shrugged his shoulders, and lounged on the armchair.

You gasped as Heeseung cupped your pussy, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.

"Aww did you miss me that much?"

“Use your fingers properly and find out.”

Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Not even a sorry?” he said, arrogance dripping from each word.

Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell. Heeseung's hands worked quickly to unbutton your shirt. You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts. Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.

It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”

"Jake's cock is getting hard and you don't want to disappoint him do you? He is the favourite in this relationship right?" You grumbled, feeling Heeseung's finger slide across your pussy. You tried your hardest not to moan.

Heeseung threw a glance at Jake who was chuckling behind his fingers, his cock almost bursting through his trousers. A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear.

“You're right. He is my favourite, but he doesn't have a pussy like yours does he?”

Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.

He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure. His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him.

“What happened darling?” Heeseung taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That desperate for my fingers?”

"Selfish little princess” He continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “You know, I can be quite greedy when I want to. But..."

You whined in response, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.

“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail. He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back.

“But I am willing to share you with Jake for a bit.”

The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled, the third finger nudged at your entrance and you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around your tongue to not give Heeseung the satisfaction.

“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low. It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping.

The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.

For a brief moment, Heeseung allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly. His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.

And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.

He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, looking over at Jake and giving him a smirk too.

Of course. He was a sadist.

“Now, now,” Heeseung tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous, did you?” 

"Fuck you both so much."

"Well if you say so doll." Jake shrugged his shoulders again and got up, getting onto the bed as well.

"Only if she stays silent though." Heeseung chuckles like a madman. Fuck you, you thought, but you couldn't get the words out. Jake removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure that you can take anymore.

“i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. Had he always been this big?

“Fuck you're tight” Jake groans.

“Oh fuck.” You breath, feeling too full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“How does she feel?" Heeseung asks Jake. “So. Fucking. Tight” he groans as he slowly starts moving.

“oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, and they reach Jake's dark curls

“Does it feel good darling?” Heeseung whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers.

“f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Jake picks up speed.

"You like Jake fucking you while I stretch your ass?”

“Yes” you moan again.

“Good girl, look how well you’re taking us." Heeseung's hot breath tickles your skin pink.

Jake groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Heeseung's hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly.

“Fuck you're ready to cum again aren’t you? I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” Heeseung groans.

“please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Heeseung's hand.

“what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Jake says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder hyung.” he says.

You try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Jake picks up speed even faster and Heeseung pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Jake’s cock move through your folds. "Jaeyun..” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance.

“you wanted us both, so you get us both” Jake says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. Your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Heeseung mutters to Jake.

“fuck” Jake groans in response. You already feeling another orgasm rise.

“please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you.

“cum for us” Jake orders as he starts moving in and out of you again.

Heeseung lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. “No, I can’t. please” you beg. “You can do one more darling”

“hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Jake and Heeseung as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal pace.

“oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel the both of them come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if you're still cuming or if it’s another orgasm.

Their thrusts turned slow but remained powerful as they bottomed out, hitting you as far back as they could. You gasped with every rut of Jake's hips hitting yours, and Heeseung's little moans cornering your ears.

Jake's hand aimlessly stroked your hair. he pulled back to look at you, smiling at the sight of your flushed face and disheveled hair.

“see. knew you could take it.” Jake kissed the tip of your nose, regretfully pulling out of you, you felt Heeseung do the same from behind. You whined at the loss—you had got so used to the feeling of them inside you, it was almost painful for them to leave.

"Princess?" Heeseung asks uncertainly, "you alright?"

"I'll forgive you if both of you do that everyday." You breathe out, being wrapped safely into Jake's arms.

"Well if you say so." Heeseung chuckles and smirks at Jake, who smiles back and wraps both of you tighter into a cocoon of comfort.

[screampied]

HIHI VEGAS!! HOW ARE YA DOING?!

i’ve had this idea for a while and i was wondering if u could write it!!

trying to get off while your husband (geto or nanami) were gone on a mission that took a few days and you started to get frustrated because you couldn’t no matter how much you tried but little did you know he was standing at the door way to your shared room watching try so hard?! and after he confronted you about it he made you get off multiple times and you even squirted for the first time once or twice?!!

nanami catching you playing with yourself — ★.

cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, brief cunnılingus, praise, first time squırt, mdni. an. hii i’m okay!

with brows frustratingly furrowed and a tangled few fingers of yours curled into your sopping cunt, you whine. it’s been a few days since nanami left for a mission and truth be told—you missed him, dearly. more than anything though, you missed his beloved touch. only your husband knew how to make you moan with something as simple as physical touch. he knew you—more importantly, he knew your body. trembly legs of yours sprawl wide open whilst you’re in the midst of trying to locate your concealed g-spot. alas, it’s so cute because regardless of how many attempts you tried, you could never do it like he could. you’re struggling, coating the entirety of your digits with your slit before you slump back in detestation defeat.

a pout goes against your lips as you swear underneath your breath. yet little did you know, nanami was leaning against the door. “aw, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a soft voice, and you jolt immediately once you realize he’s been watching this entire time. you felt a sudden wave of hotness set against your skin like wind, embarrassment overtaking you. dragging his feet against the wooden floor, he tugs on his tie. “havin’ fun?” and once you pout more, he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. you shake your head and he chortles. “ohh, i see. poor baby couldn’t even do it right. but don’t worry, kento’s here—let’s pick up where you left off, yeah?”

his words were so so smooth, just his dialogue alone was enough for you to get off. nanami had a way with words for sure. he could say anything in his deep, tantalizing voice and you’d be creaming in an instant. that’s one of the many things he’s always loved about you though.

“o- okay,” you inhale a single sharp breath, having your wrist already bent to a ninety degree angle. two pathetic fingers of yours pull out and he gazes at the soaking mess of a scene. “i know ‘m supposed ‘ta wait ‘till you get home but i was bored, ‘ken. missed you so bad.”

“baby, ‘s okay,” he reassures with a warm smile, grabbing ahold of your wrist.

his touch, you were still a bit sensitive. as his fingers dance against your skin for a few seconds, you felt that familiar throbbing pool of heat introduce itself. a school of pulsing convulsions rupture out of you so haphazardly that it’s almost splitting you from the inside out. you’re panting out of your full, heavy lungs, and that’s when nanami plants a tender kiss near the beloved crown of your head. “missed you more. ‘n don’t worry that pretty head. ‘sides, you know you can call me right?”

“but— but you’d be working,” you mumble, watching as he slowly spreads your legs further.

nanami gingerly brings a hand between your thighs, a thumb stroking against your puffy swollen clit.

swollen to the very entrance, it’s drooling, dribbling sloppily with your anticipating arousal so much that he feels the inevitable tent arise in his slacks. he’d only been watching for a good five minutes—but he couldn’t stand to see his precious baby struggle. the least he could do was teach you right. as you’re still moaning up a storm, you conclude your sentence with a sweet and shaky, “didn’t wanna disturb you.”

“next time, call me,” and his voice was pitchy.

a fair amount of raspy baritone drags around his words before he inches his head down towards your thighs. softly, he grips your left leg before languidly giving your cunt three passionate kisses. those kisses were tender—entirely sloppy, his chin rubs against your folds and you whine, already feeling your arch.

you whimper out his name in pleasure with a featuring hand immediately digging through his mahogany messy strands.

“doesn’t matter if ‘m on my break or not, i’ll always make time for you. if you play with yourself baby—play with her, i wanna hear it too.”

the most kindest eyes meets your gaze for another time—they then flicker down towards your pussy before he swiftly whistles against it. “wheww, she’s all hot ‘n ready, isn’t she,” and speaking of hot, the air feels substantially thick. so thick that you could cut right through the weightless wind with a knife.

nanami lets off a gruff groan, reaching for his pants before yanking down his dress slacks. “sweetheart, i find it cute though. just the image of you not knowing how to finger yourself properly. thought i showed you how, remember?”

with a heaving gasp, your legs were laid all out for him on display as if your body was a canvas. showing off for him as if you were a mere museum piece.

in which—to be honest, you were.

his special, priceless museum piece.

“i— i tried,” you babble, the feverish air of his warm breath aerating against your folds makes you twitch. despite him being so patient and gentle with you—understanding even, he’s still a bit of a tease. he can’t help it. your sharp breathy pants only intensifies the more each millisecond seconds passes and progresses. all the while you’re trying to match your irregular breathing patterns, a clammy hand of yours combs through his umber, unkempt slick back. “can’t do it like you, kento. my fingers are too weak.”

“aw, ‘s okay. guess you jus’ need more training then,” he guffaws with the most kindhearted, gentle expression. that soon fades once you whine, feeling nanami’s plump, perfect lips surprise your cunt with a needy brief nibble.

the moment his rotating tongue swirls against your entrance its over. it’s so slick and,

already . .

you start to coat his chin with your wetness. it’s shimmery, shining against the window pane that had sun ricocheting against the class. so effortlessly pretty. with your quavering legs being all in the air practically, you grind your hips against his face as you’re laid back.

as countless whimpers mercilessly snatch out from your dry throat, you then start to feel the soft fading stubble of nanami’s against your pussy. briefly, it tickles against your skin before it grabs out a louder bundle of moans. the stimulation of his faint facial hair smearing against your entrance makes you pulse more than you’d initially realize. long, lengthy lashes of his flutter shut and as he’s buried between your thighs—seconds go by before he then gathers out two fingers.

his thickset index and a middle finger, both long and you only ached for them to be inside. you didn’t wanna wait anymore— all you knew was that you needed him.

badly, as if your life depended on it.

nanami’s fingers were so slender lengthy, staggering inches. already, you were losing your train of thought . . imagining his long fingers stirring the insides of your cunt, clamping down against your walls. as youre in your own erotic little phantasm, you try to think of it all. nanami praising you how good you’re doing, how soaked you are—even talking you through it in that warm, alluring voice.

as you’re entrapped in your own thoughts, it makes you suck your teeth in wanting desire. your imagery would only soon turn real within a few sloppy seconds.

“stay with me, silly girl,” he purrs, a teasing smile contorting against his lips. it’s a stretch—merely, with a swatting tiny smack against your cunt, you’re brought right back to reality. you moan, trailing your hooded eyes back down at him and he flashes you a warm, innocent smile. prying his mouth away momentarily, he prods an index finger against your entrance— watching as it slowly makes its way in. slowly, it seeps into your drenched cunt and you whine out a mewl. your sweet noises ring through his ears before he inserts another one. nanami mimics a bowling ball grip with his wrist, a low raspy, “oooh,” slithering out of his throat before he gives your pussy another kiss. a french kiss against your folds—deep, sloppy, and strictly passionate. your glutinous slick glosses against his lips—his chin and below, and it’s nothing but a pleasing sight to see.

lewd, but salaciously pleasing,

“seeee. all you had to do, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone.

hearing the sloshing slopping squelches your own cunt makes, he gets more aroused. you’re not helping the growing boner he’s got. still, nanami’s got the perfect angle, it’s almost too perfect.

two hands of yours drag near your neglected breasts—fondling with them as you bite your lip. once the bit skin gnashes against the keen edges of your teeth, you mom again. jerking further back, your lips slither cutely into an ‘o.’ chuckling, nanami then starts to ease both digits in and out. thrust after thrust—he starts off slow so you can adjust. he’s fingered you before, countless times even. but with him, it always seemed like the first time. it was that good.

its rhythm was enticing,

the crazed stimulation has your so brain fuzzy that you could barely comprehend anything but the soft padded tips of nanami’s thick fingers. “my, you’re quite the soaker today,” he continues to speak, and he lolls his tongue against your folds. your taste was his ultimate favorite—no matter how many times he’d get a quick slurp, he was never satisfied.

well—he was, but nanami kento was a perhaps a bit of a greedy man. he always wanted more of you.

every single time,

raising a brow, he grows curious once you suddenly sit up, pulling him towards you.

landing with an oof, he plops flat on his back. a hand runs through his messy hair as he cranes his neck to get a good look at you. you’re so breathtaking when you try to get what you want.

nanami doesn’t even bother to ask any questions, he always finds it cute whenever you try to have your way with him. keyword, try.

“well, excuse me,” and he spots the cute feral look in your dilated irises. you’re needy, still feeling your cunt twitch between your thighs, you crawl towards his lap to straddle him. “hm. w- what’s this?”

“wanna ride you,” was all your quavering lips could ramble out. nanami’s signature cologne scent was loud. as you make your way closer towards him, it was the only thing you could make out. his musk, his known, manly musk that never failed to give you obscene whiplash. nanami glances at the adorably ethereal sparkle in your eyes and his big hands glue onto your hips. sliding your laced panties to the crevices of your thighs, you spring out his weighty cock. “need you, ‘ken.”

“s… so impatient today, huh,” nanami softly smiles, allowing you to feel all over his body. despite him wearing mission clothes still, your hands felt his bulging muscles poke out through the piles of fabric.

once his hardened dick’s out, you moan—leaning into his neck, a hand of yours giving it a few solid pumps. nanami hisses, pulling you closer to him before you arise your jittery hips. “but- but my love,” he swallows, peppering a few kisses near the crook of your neck. “are ya sure you can handle it? you barely—”

“i can take it, ‘ken.”

famous last words—

you said you could take him, but it was the mere opposite. perhaps you’d let your horniness overtake you, because as you’re trying to barrel his fat tip inside, your legs tremor. it’s like the calm before the storm—your legs vibrate and twitch, preparing to erupt and quiver like a predicted earthquake. as you’re tightly holding onto his pent up shoulders, you whine, the peeling head of his plump cock smears itself against your soddened opening.

you’re trying to squeeze him in but he’s just so fucking so big.

your mouth then starts to open wider, voluntarily growing agape and sweet harmonic babbles of moans only escape through. it’s like you’re singing almost, except but in a much more lewd way.

it feels warm—a scorching hot type of warm.

regardless, it feels good even with you trying to take his size. you don’t get far, the head of his dick was so wide that again, you’re in awing rhapsody. you’re trying to have your cunt envelop his heat— feel him bottom out inside of you yet abruptly out of nowhere, you start to gush out.

it happens randomly. you’re not prepared, he didn’t even make his way inside. barely just the tip and here you were squirting all down his length. the sudden orgasm that drags out your throat was so long, it was pretty and bounced off the thin walls of the bedroom. a shrilling moan rudely ripples out from your esophagus as you make a cute attempt at thrusting forward. even still, you were determined to ride him—but still, it was no use. nanami grows a bit flustered at how you collapse into his chest, rubbing your head against him. he pats your head, a soft smile returning to his lips. “s- shiiit,” you croak out, sucking against the tender skin of his collar bone. nanami’s holding you firm and steady, a hand soothingly caressing down your back. the simple gesture alone calms you down, albeit you’re still shaking on his lap. your hips rapidly stutter over him, and you’re still feeling various piles of rapturing nirvana send you into a complete, euphoric trance. “k- ken, fuuuck.”

“i know princess,” he kisses against your earlobe, your narrow slitting entrance just dying to be stuffed.

you’ve never been more soaked—out of all the times, you’ve never made this much of a mess. you never squirted before, and it was a mesmerizing feeling. your legs felt like mush, still shaking and your cunt’s still trying to get over itself— throbbing and pulsing to it’s beating content. concise minuscule tears of sweat race down the sides of nanami’s thinly arched brows. a hand of his then grabs a fair chunk of your ass, making you rock against him before he lowly whispers to soothe your zealous state. your fervent was through the roof— it was a feeling you couldn’t describe let alone put into words. all you knew was that you wanted to do that again. as you’re still twitching a bit, nanami chuckles, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” and a smile creeps onto his face the moment you bury your face into his neck.

oh, you’re embarrassed. you thought you could ride him but instead you barely even lasted a few seconds. nanami was quite compassionate though—he holds you close in his arms, pressing another kiss against your collarbone. “don’t be shy. i never minded a little mess anyway.”

at his lewd, filthy words—you’re whining. you wanted him so bad and you wanted more. you bring your desperate lips towards his face to kiss him and happily, he returns the favor. a tongue of his collides with yours before a hand of his gently wraps around your throat. with moving muscles tangoing together, swaying in harmony—his hands continue to wander every inch of your body. nanami likes to take in your curves, the very curvature of your pretty physique—each spot his fingers locates and reaches, it sends you continuous new shivers every time. pulling away after a while to breathe, nanami then makes you lie on your back again. as he’s hovering over you, he leans down to kiss near your tummy. “don’t worry, wifey,” he shushes in a loving tone—his eyes filling up with even more adoring tenderness for you. you were just so pretty like this, exposed and underneath him. your body was like art to him. “i got you,” he coos, and as he raises your leg slowly, creating a damp trail of kisses from your knee to your ankle, he aligns his cock against your drooling slit. “kento’s got you,” he repeats in a sweet purr. “now let your husband take it from here. lie back— yeah, atta girl.”

[romcomeon]

" an accidental lover's bruise " | DRABBLE

╰┈➤ all that just to cover up an accident | WC : ≈ 1.0K

warning.s : mentions of hickies, no dialogue

"nothing actually happened, it's all one big misunderstanding."

pairing.s: demon brothers x GN!MC

PS: this is completely unserious LOL.

There are a multitude of reasons why it isn't best to assume the worst case scenario… Though you didn't expect that this would be one of them.

Picture this: you were walking along the wicked halls of the House of Lamentation, all to look for a specific demon. Perhaps you were cussing out yourself for that stupid accident, or simply hissing in annoyance. Nonetheless, you needed a color corrector to cover up an awful bruise behind your neck.

Strolling through the halls, you've wondered: had this house grew larger? Or are you just. .

. . . lost?

Before you can make a proper judgment, Mammon spots you. He clings onto you like a magnetic force, skin so close to merging with yours. Leaving the GREAT Mammon's sight was unacceptable! Something bad would've happened if you aren't under his watch. What's got ya looking so distraught? Of course his presence could be intimidating, but- Hey! Don't look too scared!!

You wonder if he secretly wants something or is hiding from Lucifer. Other than that, you told him of your unique 'endeavors'. Asmodeus' room? Why do ya gotta be there?

As you were about to explain that embarrassing accident, you were then interrupted by Lucifer. The once composed Avatar looked furious, his eyes glowing brighter than the candlelight. Mammon flinched at the sight. 'So it was the latter.'

It's the usual banter, there's not much to add. You carefully walk away from the sign, back turned against them. Finally! Asmo's room—

Eh!?

You felt Lucifer grab you by the arm, turning you around as he inspected your body. In the glimpse of an eyes and- Aha! There it is.

A purplish blue patch at the back of your neck. Reddish hues surround the patch, not to mention how glaringly dark it was. It made it visible, for even a misplaced strand is easily noticeable — at least, in Lucifer's eyes. You begin to wail out protests as you were dragged across the hallway.

Lucifer needed an explanation, but since Mammon was also there to witness the albeit improper reveal, the eldest chose to take you to the living room instead of his office. To be fair, they all required an explanation. How dare you frolic with another? It hurts his pride seeing the remains of your infidel. The mere thought of you laying your precious body for a lower demon left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Mammon was shocked. Eyes wide, jaw drop as he saw that pesky bruise. Did you...? Oh. How could you. He looked closer, tracing a finger along the back of your neck. Ever the greedy demon that he is, Mammon saw red. Whoever dared place their lips on your skin shall be gifted the modest offer of torture.

Alright, so now you were in the living room. Hair and coverings pushed aside to display that bruise to everyone. Everyone.

Leviathan nearly dropped his console, watching someone else's mark on your skin. In a rather intimate area of all places. Oh sure, he understands... You wouldn't want it to be him to leave the marks, did you? Snake fangs weren't the most pleasurable, but he didn't think you'd let others do that to you... Ugh. Normies. It makes sense that you would. The Otaku could only stand up, walking away. Don't follow him, he needs some time.

Satan was... fine. Oh he was fine. He congratulates you for your rendezvous. He sees that you're looking for remedies to soothe the ailment? Not to worry, you can oh so kindly ask him. Different demons exhibit different mannerisms in marking their mates, but this would be as simple as a healing spell. Hm? Oh kitten he isn't mad. Don't mind the pen's ink splattered on the couch, or the visible dent on the book he's holding.

Human, you better guard yourself. Beelzebub is currently holding his brother, Belphegor, in a tight grip. The younger of the two was enrages, ready to pounce on that filthy, pathetic, son of a b—

Beel was beyond disappointed, but his eyes held a glint of worry. Not just for you, but for everyone. He wasn't given too much time to react, as his immediate instinct was to be sure his twin didn't come after anyone's blood at that instant.

Nevertheless, the room was a mess. Everyone has their own ways of coping with this tragedy. Their poor lamb, tainted! Pristine skin claimed by a lowly soul!! UNACCEPTABLE!!

Asmodeus gasped; he was beyond baffled. Worried for you, he goes to inspect the mark closer. He needs names. He needs answers, he needs an address. He needs to get his nails at —

wait ! !

When Asmodeus inspects it closer, brownish-orange eyes squinting to get a better look. . . hey. That wasn't a hickey. Far from it, looked more like a tennis ball was poorly aimed and shot directly at the back of your neck at 30mph.

You could only sigh, your hand sliding from your eyes down to your chin. Duh. Asmodeus pities you, pulling you into a tight hug as he dramatically cries out in your expense. Sure, he was glad to know that you were certainly not being taken advantage of by someone no-good, and that you're all safe from the hands and mouths of others. But at the same time... Darling, were you alright?

He couldn't help but worry. Humans were such fragile creatures; earning nearing permanent markings from unexpected accidents. It won't take long before he's whining how you should take care of yourself, pulling you into his room while rummaging through his many containers for the perfect shade match. And undertone. And foundation. Oh! Don't forget the human-safe setting spray!

You came out of your room expecting to only be needing to find the shade-matching concealer. You didn't expect to have to prepare a 100 slide PowerPoint presentation to explain yourself.

A/N: Hey, Eden here! Yes, this was an unserious prompt as an attempt to loosen up a bit. I eliminated Dialogue for both comedic effect as well as to try and incorporate character-driven elements without lines and stuff.

Is it good? Eh it's enough. Did I have fun writing this? Absolutely!! That is all for now, haha. Expect edits once I wake up- or not :"DD

divider/s by @/cafekitsune

[satoruhour]

Accidentally sending gojo a nude and before you can properly apologise he sends a video of his own which leads to..well🫣

BABY BLUE SWEETNESS

a/n: my clit grew hands and wrote this. combined this w/ a part 2 of being gojo’s roommate / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody my gojo fuckers

wc: 3.7k (I HAVE GOT TO STOP WRITING SM ....)

warnings: mutual pining, roommate!gojo, dom!gojo, he gets rough but only bc he loves ur pussy sssoooo much, sending nudes by accident to gojo, semi-public m! masturbation, filming (on gojo’s end), pet names, praise, slight f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, nipple play, bit of dialogue during sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (twice!), multiple rounds, implied m! oral, n*sfw under the cut

the next week goes by uneventfully.

but you think there’s hardly anything worth happening when you hadn’t even said anything about that: standing outside satoru’s room, hearing his pleasured moans along with the slickness of his hand on his cock and watching him at his most vulnerable with whispers of your name.

gojo did have a few moments of weakness — brief bouts of failing to meet your eyes, stuttering, but he was still predominantly himself after, throwing laundry on the floor and leaving the toilet paper roll unfilled. by date, he was the messiest roommate you’ve roomed with, compared to sleeping over at shoko’s and geto’s places before; sure it was obvious enough being friends with him since high school, though you hadn’t thought that the rowdy, outgoing way that he spoke would translate into his living space, too.

and despite being the one who has the upper hand that very day you decided to stop and watch, he still manages to have some sort of hold on you, catching you off-guard at the worst times.

“any luck with the mods?” gojo peeks over at your laptop over at the small dining table, your leg propped up and a scowl on your face at how you were still on the waitlist. while mr. perfect beside you has gotten every module he’s bidded for, a course on philosophy, romantic and 20th century music as well as an online mod about ethics.

“i don’t even know why you got that last one! funny how the most annoying person who has anything but morals is entering an ethics course.” maybe it was the fact that you’ve already waited one and a half weeks. perhaps it was that one piece of clothing gojo loved to leave on the floor, or simply it was just because of the man himself — you were on your wit’s end with the week.

that fades away when you’re turning your head and gojo is right there, hovering over your computer screen with a sly smirk on his face and his stupid bright, blue eyes that you could spend hours staring at.

“you wound me, baby,” gojo whispers, like it was a secret between the two of you and he pulls away, both hearts beating an unnatural speed at the proximity. gojo swears to himself he’ll never call you anything close to that or be that close because it’s absolutely not good for his heaving chest and hardening dick — those pretty plump lips of yours and the innocent look on your face — he wanted to both kiss it and fuck it.

and yet, on dormitory movie nights where you’re sat on both ends of the couch with geto and shoko between the two of you, satoru wills himself to patiently wait until the end of the first movie to stretch his limbs and get more snacks; he knows you’ll follow, too, because it’s been like that for as long as he can remember.

“you know you have to stop eating all that candy, right?” you’re saying it mindlessly, pouring more chips into a bowl and getting the hummus and guac, “it’s not healthy.”

gojo’s leaning on the counter and doesn’t help whatsoever, both elbows on the wood and head tipped back to meet your height.

“aw, is my cute roomie worried about me?” you almost want to ignore him with that little compliment, not sure if he even meant it, but you’re leaning into him this time with a little glance down to his lips that he thinks he imagined it.

“no, just wondering how embarrassed i’ll be when i have to tell the paramedics that when you finally collapse on the floor, it was because my dumb roommate had consumed too much sugar.” you like this little game you play with satoru, yet you’ve never been this bold; maybe it’s because you know he finds you hot, too, but the two of you are too stubborn to stand your ground and admit the obvious.

gojo’s feigned pout spreads into a grin and simply blows a raspberry at your explanation. there’s a crinkle of yet another sweet packet, disregarding your chastise from earlier. “smart little thing, hm?”

“i become the brightest when you’re involved,” you swipe the sweet from his fingers and pop it into your mouth, “i have to when i need to insult you.” the two of you spend the rest of the movie night hip to hip on the couch, ignoring the fire in your connected limbs and the spark of your fingers when they brush against each other.

it’s a few months before you’re fully embracing that you might not just find your roommate hot, but that maybe you’d want to “wife” him up as the other has expressed jokingly. it didn’t help that gojo is cleaning up a little more often these days, learning how to cook and using his inside voice like you told him to (you didn’t think he’d remember). the last straw was possibly seeing him fuss over you when you fell sick, switching to remote classes just so he could be close to you — his main excuse was that he didn’t want his laundry to be infected.

“but you don’t even like to use shirts half the time you’re home!”

“you’re calling this home—” gojo giggles while simultaneously shoving cough mixture down your throat, “i didn’t know we were married!”

“shut your trap before i really make you regret this.”

but gojo thinks that maybe it wasn’t so bad to come home to you in one of his future days, he just had to get through this first.

it was meant to be a simple photo to show off your new set of lingerie, the ones that you had gotten with your girls at a half-off price just the other day. you couldn’t blame yourself when your hands naturally reached for one that mirrored gojo’s eyes alongside the white details that represent his hair. buy it, take a potential nude and laugh about it in the group chat, that’s all. you felt so damn sexy in it that you even went as far as to take a few photos with your bra unclasped and phone in hand hiding your chest, until the very last one where it was fully off.

you felt unlike yourself, in that stuffy, small dorm while satoru was out in a lecture—

before gojo texts you about groceries and his chat moves to the very top that same moment you’ve got all these lewd, unnatural pictures of you waiting to be sent. it happened all too fast: at least 10 being delivered and read on the spot that your panic is indescribable and you want to melt into mush on the floor.

while you’re scrambling to delete them, gojo stares at your figure in that last racy picture, hands skilfully covering your breasts just enough that he could still see the curve of them and then down to your figure interrupted by a pretty pair of blue lace undies. it’s like you planned this, looking so delectable in your little get-up until it all disappears and you’re sending multiple messages of “i’m so sorry”’s and “it was an accident”’s.

gojo thanked the heavens he was sat at the very back of the lecture theatre, immediately booking it out of there with the images of you seared into his brain. his cock is throbbing and so, so hard it almost hurts to walk to the restroom, and you’re still continuing your apologies. he wants to scream at you — how you do not need to say sorry for whatever you’ve just sent, because as he removes his dick from his tight pants, there’s a soft sigh of your name that falls from his lips.

satoru is reminded of the times you’d be sat in your stupid booty shorts in the dorm, basically showing your folds because he just knew you didn’t like to use underwear underneath. he’s reminded of the times you had to (unwillingly) use one of his shirts when the washing machine had broken down and the only thing on his mind at the time was what you’d look like bouncing on him — he thinks that maybe he just needs to spit it the fuck out, and so he opens the video feature on your private chat.

“this is what you do t’me, baby,” gojo’s tip is already leaking so much pre-cum, making sure he can be seen, expression and all, “you make me so— s-shit— fucking hard.”

he didn’t even care if he could be heard, pumping his cock to the thought of you in that baby blue set of lingerie. he thinks of ripping it all off of you and buying you more just so he could do the same thing again and again, eyes scrunching up in bliss as his hand continues to move up and down his length. his hand isn’t even close to what he wants to feel — your tight pussy sucking him in — but he settles for it, squeezing his palm around his shaft and thumbs his tip.

“ya see this, angel?” gojo chokes out a moan when he sees another notification of ‘i really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable’ and it was the exact opposite for him in this bathroom stall, really hoping this video would drive his point home, “s’all for you, f— fuck.”

the video is incoherent from then on, because it’s all too much for him, the strokes of his warm hand, the images of your body, the sensitivity of his cock. lewd noises of him jerking off and his whines echo throughout the restroom, cumming with a slack mouth and babbles of your name on his lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk…” satoru can hardly care as his cum stains his shirt, leaving his cock in needy spurts that dribble down his hand as well, wishing he could see it against your skin instead of his own. the end of the video is messy and hasty that he doesn’t even think much as he sends it, but it’s not even halfway through the video before you’re sending a simple “please come back, now.” and his heart jumps in his chest.

gojo simply shoots a quick text to geto, asking him to help him pack his things because he will definitely not be returning.

you’re so glad you don’t have any more classes for the day, too, because all you can think about now is satoru and his cock, blessed again with the sight of him losing himself in pleasure except now, he knew. your hands aren’t hesitant in reaching down to your core, lingerie already soaked through as you watch the short two minute video over and over as you lazily play with your clit with your eyes trained on his hand. it’s so hypnotising you don’t realise gojo’s already home, standing at your room door with his bulge showing through his pants and sweat lining his brow.

“did you run here?” you sit up, hands covering your chest instinctively. he shakes his head and you remove them.

“you know the bus will take too long, baby.”

you ignore the flutter of your heart and pussy when you know he says the pet name with intent, now, not in a joking or teasing manner. you want to hear it more.

“was that really an accident?”

you’re kneeling on your bed now, and gojo just wants to shut you up and make you take back all your apologies.

“it was!” you counter, not minding how your roommate slips his hand around your waist and is just inches from you, “but…”

gojo never truly loses his personality even when he’s hot and bothered, “but what, princess?”

that’s new.

you grin at his chivalry even when you’ve got your chest all vulnerable like this: he’s trying to break you with his eyes, the one thing that led you to choose baby blue in the first place. you win when his eyes flit down to your tits.

“but you still ended up sending me a video of you jerking off — hardly any decorum, huh, satoru?”

gojo rolls his eyes, hands trailing up your body and coming to rest at your boobs, “yeah. but you love it.”

that’s all he says before he dips down and takes a nipple into his mouth, leaving your hands to tangle in his hair as your back arches to give him more space. he’s so hungry, swirling his tongue around your hardened bud as he kneads the other, eyes occasionally meeting yours from your chest.

“d’you like the vid?” his speech is muffled.

“like it? i loved it—” a soft moan leaves you, “didn’t know you were such a sub, though.”

gojo laughs into your skin and you’re obsessed with the feeling, challenging him when he reaches your eyes again with a glint in his eyes.

“oh, you’re in for it, baby.” gojo grins, capturing your lips and feeling so free now that everything’s out in the open. he’s finally able to feel your lips on his, so soft and slow, making him go crazy from such a simple gesture. gojo pushes you gently onto your bed, kissing down your exposed body before coming to your pelvis, playing with the hem of the underwear.

“gotta thank this little guy for solving our problems.”

“please do not call my lingerie ‘little guy’,” you giggle, letting him remove the garment and you preen at the praise he gives your pussy.

“s’wet… is this all for me?” gojo shamelessly inhales your essence, the sight of him between your legs enough to make anyone cum.

“yeah…” it’s a whisper when you say it, breathless and impatient yet loving the way he treats you. “i get wet only for you, ‘toru.”

gojo moans at that, eyes rolling back momentarily before his mouth descends on your pussy and you think you can hear a brief hymn of hallelujah. he savours your cunt slowly, licking lazy stripes up and down your pussy and your moans match them — soft, drawn out — hands playing seamlessly with his hair. gojo’s startling baby blues meet you for a second and he smiles softly before he places a kiss to your clit.

a twitch, and satoru fully shows his expertise in the next second, eating you out like he was a starved man and you were the last meal on earth. your roommate sucks on your clit, groaning into your core as he feels your thighs close in around his head and your heels dig into his back. he switches easily to your hole, driving his tongue into the leaking entrance and his nose starts to nudge at your nub.

“satoru— s-shit!” your moans increase in volume, hands pulling harshly at his locks. “feel s’good—”

“yeah?” he speaks into your cunt, slurping up your juices time and time again until his jaw aches. your pussy just tastes so sweet that it’s got him grinding into the bed, too, relieving his cock with desperation. “was made just to eat you out, sweetness.”

“doing so well— are you close?” it was difficult to hold on when satoru was talking to you like that and devouring you so good, thumb now playing with your folds while his tongue focuses primarily on your clit again. he flicks at it and his eyes look at you for your answer, merely nodding pathetically as his abuse on your cunt is relentless. gojo would love to memorise the way you clench around his thumb, but he’s too fixated on your whines before you cum with a cry of his name.

“o—oh fuck— ‘t-toru! oh my goddd…” his mouth never stops moving even when your thighs tremble around his head and your body convulses, clit throbbing in his mouth and your mewls reaching the highest heavens.

gojo grins into your cunt, making sure you watch him as he collects all your juices onto his tongue, giving your pussy one last satisfied lick before he sits up, making quick work of his pants and he shows you how to not have one ounce of decorum like you commented on earlier—

because as he pumps the cock you saw just minutes ago, you tongue darts out to lick your lips unknowingly. as he drags the tip along your folds, you’re spreading your legs wider for him. as he slaps his cock along your cunt, your hips are moving on their own accord to feel more of him.

“filthy girl,” gojo leans in to your face, “talkin’ bout me having decorum. you should see yourself.”

you laugh, bringing him in for a brief kiss. you liked that you still could banter in times like this.

“i’ll admit i never had it, so it would b-be—” gojo slips just the tip in and you’re cut off, a choked whimper leaving you, “hypocritical to criticise you.”

“ya think?” gojo wiggles his hips gently, sinking into you and the squeeze of your cunt around his cock is too perfect, too tight. his own whines leave him as he eases inch by inch into you before you’re confessing.

“y’know after seeing you jerk off that day— f-fuck, in your room,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his middle that causes him to moan, “i wanted nothing more than to help you clean up, cum and all.”

gojo chuckles breathlessly, you two have been pining for months? but he recovers just as quickly, bottoming out with a loud sigh. he lets your hands travel over his face, holding it in your palms.

“y-yeah? why didn’t you?”

“wasn’t sure if you liked me—” a whine cuts through your words as he takes the first slam into you.

“i’ll make sure you know how much i like you, baby, ‘kay?” gojo manages to get out before his hips moves into you, no longer able to hold conversation with the way your cunt sucks him in. he’s determined now, to show you how someone like you had a hold on him so strong that he was willing to pick up dirty clothes and take time out of his day to collect groceries. it’s not long before your roommate is able to pick up a pace, loving the way you trap him with your legs as his hips piston in and out of you.

the room is so much more stuffy, now, filled with the scent of sweat and sex as his pelvis meets your ass in timed thrusts. it was so filthy, too, cum from your previous orgasm aiding him as lube and sticking to his pubes from how much you were dripping.

“y-yeah— fuck me like how you’ve been wanting to, ‘toru—” you mumble out softly, already drunk on his cock. you swear you can feel the veins and his cockhead twitch at that, the sounds of the other filling your ears.

“you take me so, so well, baby,” gojo praises, face buried in your neck as he gives you kisses there, mind blank except for how you’re so wet that your arousal is spurting everywhere each time he comes up to the hilt in you, “taking my cock and squeezing me s’good.”

little pants leave you at the affirmations, and like always, gojo is a fast learner, already knowing your sweet spots when a hand sneaks down to rub at your clit. the circles go in time with his thrusts, and before then, you’re jerking in his arms, nails scratching at his back as your pussy spasms on his cock. gojo groans into your skin, hips still ramming into you before the clench of your cunt prompts him to cum as well.

“right there— s-shit!” you’re moaning when you can feel his cum seeping into you, the exact thing you’re imagining feeling even better as he loads you up, but you don’t have time to react when gojo flips you over. a quick glance to his face tells you he’s intoxicated on your pussy, pressing down on your arch.

“can you handle— another load— baby?” it comes out in between his thrusts, the way he begs to cum in you again and you’re never one to deny when you’ve wanted this for the longest time. you let satoru use you, face buried in the sheets below you while his thrusts start to turn sloppy. he’s not giving one fuck that he’s cummed the fastest he’s ever done before and how he’s going to do it again, but it’s inevitable when he’s got your cunt wrapped around him.

“y— yes, satoru— want you to fill me up, p-please—” it all overloads him: the way his cock disappears into your hole, the residual cum from earlier sticking to your ass and his pelvis, that white ring of semen around the base of his dick, your desperate pleas and cries.

it only takes one stroke of his hand on your clit before you’re cumming so fast again together with him, fingers grasping at the sheets as your pussy flutters around his length and you get his second load in return. it’s so viscous and hot, spilling into your hole. it’s so much, body going limp against satoru’s messy thrusts as he continues to rut into you, stilling finally when he starts to cramp in his thighs.

“attagirl, that’s it, sweetness,” gojo gasps out from behind you, staying locked in you as his cock spurts out the last bits of his cum. he presses a small kiss to your shoulder, asking softly into your skin if you were okay.

“more than okay—” a small mewl is heard when gojo pulls out slowly, sighing to himself upon seeing the way your cunt push out his cum naturally. there’s so much of it, spilling onto the sheets, but before he can take it upon himself to plug two fingers into your entrance, you’re dragging him to lie properly on the bed—

“not done?” your roommate laughs, a hand playing with your neck and the hickeys he’s left there.

you shake your head, noting how satoru’s cock is still sensitive when your hand closes around it, and you finally can see gojo in all of his glory when your tongue kitten licks at his tip and a shiver travels through his body. his hooded eyes and the buck of his hips are all you need to continue.

“i haven’t told you how much i like you, ‘toru. should i show you now?”

somewhere on your dresser, there’s several messages from your girls, but you’re too preoccupied with satoru’s cock in your mouth to notice — ah, well, you’d update them later.

[6:23pm, operation get (y/n) a partner]: photo attached (4)

@(y/n) girl where is your pic !!!! show us that cute baby blue lingerie pleaseee!!

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

[b1rds3ye]

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI,  awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist