#a whole ass idiot: ooc
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mcuntainbcrn · 10 months ago
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//hello there friends - it's been awhile, and i know i owe quite a lot first of all, i'm sorry it's taking me so long - a lot has been happening all at once
i'm getting ready to lose my home
i'm trying to brace myself to lose my last living grandparent
i've got some friends staying with me [and we're learning that yeah, we're friends, but we absolutely should not be roommates]
and did i mention that the unit above mine has a pretty severe leak? ask me how i know!!!
work has been busier than ever and i'm doing about 90% of what walks through the door these day
so i'm essentially running on empty all that to say that i'm going to sit down this weekend and attempt to crank out my drafts, but that i can't make any promises if anyone doesn't want to continue anything, i completely understand
i love you all to death and i hope your 2024 is going much, much better than mine
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worthyheir · 3 months ago
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AUs I’m ready for immediately with like next to no plotting:
Any of the ones on my carrd —- why do your non asoiaf/hotd muses not want to meet a dragon???
Lotr au
Vampire au (ignore that there’s a placeholder on my carrd shh)
I’m a simple person. You shout “what if he’s a vampire and my muse is a werewolf” and I will shout in the middle of this chilis and start writing headcanons.
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caelcstis · 9 months ago
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it's official, he's taken up the brainrot
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uravichii · 9 months ago
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"best friends who kiss?"
character/s: bakugo katsuki
summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.
genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo
a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D
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the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.
"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"
"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.
you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.
you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."
then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.
you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.
"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"
"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"
you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.
"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"
"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."
he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.
"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"
and he's out of the door.
was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.
at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.
after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.
"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.
there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.
he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.
"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"
you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"
"s-sure."
when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?
he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.
"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.
"t's okay."
"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.
"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"
"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.
"son of a bitch."
the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.
you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.
now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.
he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'
"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.
your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.
you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.
bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.
you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.
you kick him in the shin.
"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"what the hell is wrong with you?!"
"i was going toー"
"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"
"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.
"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"
he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.
"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."
silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.
"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.
you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."
"i'm not confused. i like you."
"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."
"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"
"stop saying that. you don't."
"i do, and you like me tooー"
"what?!" you laugh incredulously.
'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?
you do what is necessary again.
"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.
"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."
you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.
"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"
"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."
you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.
"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"
"we're not going to break it off."
"how do you know that?"
"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"
"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."
"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."
"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."
he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."
"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.
"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."
if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.
"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."
in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.
"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"
he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.
"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."
he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.
"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."
after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.
he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.
when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.
"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."
"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."
"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."
you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.
"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"
he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."
"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."
"fuck off!"
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TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)
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wokelander · 26 days ago
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SOFTER, SOFTEST !
ft. curly x fem!reader
tags. piv, body worship sort of, rimming, big dick, tit job for like 2 seconds, creampie, size kink, scent kink, balls…
note. hai.. will get back to leon soon and I think mw fandom is lacking noncon and incest fics severely.. so i will get on that with jimmy. don’t know how to characterise him yet so ooc .. just infatuated with his breasts tbh i don’t know anything works in this universe LMFAO like idk just take this with a grain of salt.. for miss @pupwashing please ignore typos !! unedited :3
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You miss Curly.
You miss him more than you did yesterday, more than an idiot misses the point, like a dick misses a wet pussy–You just miss him.
It has been four months. Twenty-one weeks. One-hundred and forty days. Three-thousand, five-hundred and twenty hours. Too many minutes, a hell of a lot more seconds, the closer he gets the further he seems to be.
Big numbers make it feel like you’re getting nowhere so you cut those twenty-fours into one day. One day and he’ll be home. One day and you’ll be in bed with his stomach crushed against yours, the warmth of his flesh searing yours, fucking him into next year, until he loses his halo.
Videos aren’t enough, photos don’t do him justice, toys don’t live up to the feel of a real dick. You miss that face he makes when he cums - it’s a block away from his crying face. You miss him face down, ass up, punching holes into his dignity one thrust at a time. God, you miss that dick, how he goes red all over, him in nothing but that stupid fucking smile.
One day, you tell yourself in the mirror that morning. One day, you tell yourself when you take your lunch break. One day, one more microwaved meal for one, one more lonely night.
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It used to be a big deal, you think. The whole going to space thing. Curly says it’s no big deal, but you’re pretty sure that in your great-grandpa’s heyday it was impressive. You’ve seen videos of hoards gathering to watch a ship take off, to greet crews when they landed. Today, it’s you and a plump, older woman in her bathrobe waiting in the cold.
You could spot him in any crowd, glowing like a ray of light, mostly because he’s tall, partly because everything fades into abstraction when you notice how tight his uniform is. Good god. Did he get bigger? You’re starting to sweat, it’s hard to focus when your boyfriend is making a long-sleeved jumpsuit look naughty.
Curly’s hair is a little longer, blond curls licking the nape of his neck, falling onto his forehead, his eyes are so bright and his smile is white. He looks like a policeman’s emotional support dog. A really busty support dog. He scans the sad scattering of friends, family and drivers. You’re so taken off guard by the sight of his buttons popping you almost forget to wave at him.
He beams when you spot him, suitcase dragging behind him as he jogs over. Everything is in slow motion. Like that old movie - Baywatch. He’s so excited to see you, taking you into his big arms, shoving your face in his chest like he knows just where you’d like to be. You’re disappointed in your lungs when they beg for air, lifting your head and placing it on his shoulder instead. He smells like sweat, hotel shampoo and something metallic.
“Oh.” You open your eyes and spot Jimmy skulking behind him, an unlit cigarette between his lips. You narrow your eyes at him, and Jimmy does the same. Real shady guy, the type you’d cross the street to avoid. He’s always trailing after Curly like a bad omen. “He can’t come home with us, honey,” you tell him gently, not wanting to sound like a bitch.
Which you are.
You don’t want him smoking in your car, you don’t want Curly to invite him over for takeout because that means it’ll go on for hours and you won’t get your mouth on his big, stupid dick for another day.
“Hm? Why not?” Curly asks, pressing a kiss into your hairline, the tip of his nose bumping yours tenderly.
“I don’t have space in my car for both of you and the luggage, she’s small. What if she tips over? You’re heavy enough as it is.” You smile at him, cheekily, giving his newfound hips a squeeze. They’ve always been there, but now they’re like wow. It’s only been four months, is he on steroids? Did he get pregnant? He is glowing… God knows what’s up there in the atmosphere, some cosmic horror waiting to knock up your poor boyfriend.
Curly shrugs, offering an apologetic smile to his friend. “You heard the lady.”
Jimmy’s permanent scowl seems to deepen, cementing itself in his dermal layer. “Whatever, man.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders slumped as he makes a beeline for the phonebox.
He lifts his suitcase and loads it into your car and you watch his biceps flex. You see through his clothes, you remember every freckle on his back, mapping them out like stars, leading to those dimples low on his back, the perfect resting spot for your thumbs when you grab his ass. His body is so convenient. Like he was made to be fucked every which way.
“I missed you, I thought about you everyday,” he says against your lips, leaning in to kiss you over the gearshift. “I put your picture in the cockpit actually, Jim didn’t like it, but it kept me going.”
Always so earnest. You almost feel bad for missing his body more than him.
“Aww, Curly, honey,” you coo, pinching his cheek and cupping the other, “I missed you even more.” He nuzzles into your hand, eyes closed as you comb your fingers through his messy hair.
As much as you would like to indulge his sentimentality, you have no patience to spare. If you sit here any longer, you’re going to soak through your jeans and onto your leather seat.
You put the car in drive—
“Captain? Open up!” There’s a younger man knocking on the window, leaving his grubby handprints behind. “I wanted you to meet my mom!” His voice is muffled through the glass.
You lock the windows.
“Did you lock the windows?” Curly asks, lips downturned like he’s about to pout.
You unlock the windows.
“Of course not, baby.” You pat his head and grit your teeth.
They talk for fifteen whole minutes.
Thank you for taking care of him, he can be such a handful—Oh no, not at all, he was a joy to have—I’m glad he came back in one piece—He’s a good kid—Oh, I don’t know about that—Mooom—I’d be happy to have him back for our next long haul—Seriously, Captain?—
You squirm in place, shifting from side to side, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to your core. When Curly introduces you to his crew mate, you offer a strained smile and nothing more.
The window whirs shut. You make it home in record breaking time with four tickets and only a few points taken off your license. It doesn’t matter. You’re home, inside with the curtains drawn and Curly still has clothes on.
That’s not right.
“Take it off.”
“Huh?” Curly pushes his luggage into the corner, the top few buttons of his jumpsuit have come undone and you see the tuft of blond hair on his chest.
“Take it off, please?”
“My clothes?”
“No, your wig, baby.”
He laughs, good-natured, mild-mannered, and so fucking hot.
If he won’t do it then you will.
“I haven’t even showered—“ He starts, but you shush him with a kiss, murmuring a ‘good’ against his pink mouth.
When you part, spit keeps your lips connected, the string of fate or whatever. You go in for another, hands fisting the fabric of his collar, forcing him down towards you. Curly lets out a keening noise somewhere in the back of his throat like a dog scratching at the bathroom door.
“I know, my baby, I’ll give it to you.” You pout at him, thumbing his kiss-swollen lips and watching his eyes droop. “Oh no…” The buttons on his uniform when you try to open them.
“It’s okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own spit, “cheap stuff.”
“I know, but you looked so good in it.” It’s a shame, but you need to see him bare, sweat as his only accessory.
“You think?” He near bats his lashes at you, stepping out of his uniform, and you swoon.
“God, yeah.” You push him down on the couch, Curly falls back with a soft grunt. It’s not very big, especially for a man of his size, but it’ll do for now.
His cock swells in his boxers, you feel it beneath you as you sit atop him, admiring the view below. The wide expanse of his chest, the sweat pooling in his collarbones, those tits. You don’t know what else they could be.
“Wow.” You take a handful of his chest, plucking his puffy pink nipple. “Look at these, I might have some competition.”
“Shut it,” he huffs out a laugh through his nose, and the tips of ears redden.
“I’m serious, baby, you’re, like, huge.” You can’t tear your eyes away from his soft flesh, moulding beneath your fingertips like dough, you could fuck them if you really wanted. “What happened out there?”
“Had a lot of spare time, I guess.” Curly smiles sheepishly, expression contorting when you bend your neck to suck his nipple into your mouth with a wet pop! His jaw slackens, and his cock jumps like it’s been given quite the fright.
You only have one complaint. His tan lines have faded. Floating through the galaxy for months on end can do that to you. You miss them, but you missed Curly more, so you’ll make do with what you have.
And you have more than enough. More than you can handle really. You can’t even get a grasp on his bicep, he’s stupidly big and your hand is on the smaller side.
You shift backwards, wet cunt dragging over his impossibly big bulge where only his underwear keeps you from him - you kind of admire your pussy for being able to take it. Your mouth moves on, hands still groping as much as you can of his chest as you lick the ridges of his stomach, it’s like he’s forged out of marble.
Softly, Curly rubs the back of your head, trying his very best to keep his eyes on you and not let them fall shut. You feel his stomach muscles rippling under your tongue. They contract when you trace around his navel, placing a sloppy kiss just below it, where a patch of curly hair leads to his wet cock.
His cock is drooling through the white fabric of his boxers, they’re soaked enough to be see-through, you spot the fat, pink head that has been missing your kisses. “You’re so wet, baby, is it all for me?”
With a pitiful noise, he tosses his head back and nods sadly. It’s funny to hear a man of his stature whine, but it suits Curly so well.
Your fingers hook in the waistband, tugging his underwear downwards until his fat cock springs out, it’s so fucking fat it weighs itself down. The leaky head twitches, pre dripping down his thick shaft, leaving a moonlit trail to his heavy balls. So full of seed they might burst.
“Oh… Poor baby.” You give them a gentle squeeze, and Curly’s eyes roll back into his skull, hips jolting upwards.
The urge to take it into your mouth right then and there is tempting, you hold back, you want to take your time with him. Make him feel special. You seat yourself between his thighs, one leg thrown over your shoulder so it’s easier to fit on the sofa. Your thumb runs along his pink slit, dribbling out pearly strands of pre that web between your fingers. Curly whimpers, biting down on his fist.
“These are cute.” You take note of his meaty thighs, how they’ve only gotten bigger, a comfier place to sit. The stretch marks don’t go unnoticed, streaking purple and pink along the milky flesh of his inner thighs like faded brushstrokes.
“Mmmph.” He blinks at you, pouty, lashes wet with impatient tears.
“Yeah, mmmph, I know, baby, be patient.” You’re a big, fat hypocrite.
His scent is stronger down here, clean and soapy, but the tang of sweat prospers, and the underlying smell of him. The smell of his pillow, the smell of his few-days old clothes, the smell of his towel after he works out.
A few more kisses here and there, using the flat of your tongue to lave over strips of his sinewy skin, leaving him spit-slicked and breathless and flushed. You hoist his other leg over your shoulder, he’s heavy, but you’re horny and it’s given you a sudden burst of vitality.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, gripping the top of the couch, one arm over his face as you lick up the seam of his balls, mouth latching to the swollen underside, where they feel heaviest.
Curly’s cock leaks into your hair, the weight brings it down to rest on your face, tip pressed into your hairline, dripping down the bridge of your nose like sweat while you make a mess of his balls. Stuffing them into your mouth one at a time, using your hand to give the lonelier one a squeeze when your lips are kissing up on another.
The kiss to his perineum is enough to make him moan. Curly knows what’s coming. You go lower, nose nestled into his balls, breathing him while your hands spread his ass cheeks apart to get to the spot you love most.
Curly’s hole is darker than the rest of him, not quite pink like his cock, ruddier. He’s tight and he smells good. So good. You’ve never minded the hair, you think it’s pretty cute. Curtains match the drapes.
Affectionately, you kiss his puffy rim, and it throbs.
He lets out a groan that is half mortified and half ready-to-blow-his-load.
“Sure,” Curly says, voice breaking as you circle his hole with the tip of your tongue. He tastes like him, musky and sweet and coppery. Curly is home and your tongue is in his ass where it belongs, wriggling its way past his pulsing rim, hopefully all the way up into his heart.
Your thumb and middle finger stretch to meet around the girth of his cock, stroking him slowly as you work open his asshole, tongue pushing back in when he pushes you out. Once you deem him wet enough, you push a single finger knuckle-deep and he cries out, hips bucking up off the couch.
Much to his dismay, which he shows in the form of a pained whimper, your hand leaves his cock to splay over his stomach and hold him down to the best of your abilities. “You have to stay still, honey.”
You feed a second finger into him, his hole squelching as you curl them inside of him. Curly clenches tight enough to cut off your blood circulation, sucking you back in when you ultimately pull them out with a lewd noise. He opens his mouth on instinct, pupils so blown out his light eyes seem dark, you push your fingers down his throat and he sucks.
“You’re so cute,” you mumble, watching him intently, he’s like a pin-up model of some sort. An X-rated action figure. “Taste good?”
“Not really,” Curly says. He’s so honest it makes you laugh. He shuffles back to rest his head on the arm of the couch, cock bobbing, still leaking like nobody’s business, leaving little droplets of wet in its wake.
It’s ready to burst, but you’re not done with him yet. You haven’t had your fill. When you spend half your time with your head between his thighs, you miss out on all the faces he pulls. So you spit on your tits to get them wet, his cock is slick enough, nothing should chafe when you squeeze his cock between them.
“Christ,” Curly grits out, brows knitting together, the second coming and he hasn’t even had his first.
“You wanna cum like this?” You ask, kneading your tits on either side of his cock, each time the tip pops up past your cleavage, it bumps your chin and leaves it slick.
“No…” He shakes his head, curls bouncing, sticking to his forehead, the hair near his nose is curlier with the added sweat. “Inside.”
“I can do that for you, babe.” You smile at him, acting like that wasn’t your plan in the first place, like you haven’t been dying for a warm creampie since he landed back on earth. You give the fat head of his dick one sloppy kiss, making sure to tongue his slit before you clamber on top of him.
It should be an easy task to get him inside, you’ve been wet for the last twenty-four hours, your pussy is throbbing like it’s got a heartbeat. Slick dries on your inner thighs and your clit is buzzing, a rush of arousal passes over you like a cold wave when you lift your hips to guide his dick into you.
Oh. Wow. That’s a stretch. 
In theory, you know big Curly’s dick is. It’s a fucking horsecock, and you have eyes bigger than your stomach. You always overestimate yourself. You think you’re gonna be just fine, then his fat tip breaches your little hole, no matter how wet, and you lose it, scrambling to grasp his shoulders as your body is racked with shivers.
Curly’s kind enough to steady you, big hands finding purchase on your hips. His needy noises get through to you, and you push on, sliding down and taking him to the hilt. His dick curves upwards into your cervix, rubbing the fleshy opening as you adjust to his dick after four whole months of nothing worthwhile.
He’s so big. You’re so wet, slippery pussy slicking up his cock, and making things easier for the both of you.
“I love you.” Curly shudders, looking right into your eyes like he’s afraid to blink and miss a single thing.
“I love you too,” you tell him, eyes on his tits.
He’s so deep, feet planted on the couch as he fucks into you, unable to help himself. You get it. You’re tight, warm, and wet. Better than his fist. Your pussy is noisy, squelching each time you bottom you, grinding your clit into his pelvis, feeling his cock twitch each time you tighten around him. The plap of his balls hitting your ass when enough momentum is built up.
Curly’s helpful, when he sees you tense up, throwing your head back and rolling your hips over and over, you want him deeper and deeper, he wets his fingers with your slick and rubs figure eights into your clit.
It’s just enough to make your toes curl—Oh, who are you kidding? You near blackout when you cum, moaning so loud you scare yourself. You see black. Like someone’s drawn the curtains in your mind, ending the show. Your nails dig into his skin, but he’s always put up with that like a champ.
“Holy fuck.” Shaking still, you blink to clear your vision, you’ve wet his navel and his tummy and the couch might be ruined. You don’t even remember when he came inside you. What a shame. Feels good though, still warm. Sighing, you lay against his chest, Curly’s soft cock slips out of your hole, resting on his thigh. “Welcome home, Captain.”
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monimccoythings · 2 months ago
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Double Trouble
I'm just saying that Wolverines have litters of two-three cubs or so I've heard. This poor man wasn't ready. While I work on my other wips I'll release this short drabble to the world.
tags: slight ooc!Logan (he freaks out a bit), pregnancy fic, f!reader, happy ending.
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Twins.
The word repeated itself over and over in his head like a broken record.
You were having twins.
He stared at the screen in utter silence, looking like a fucking idiot. Twins. Two whole ass babies. Two more new additions to the family. He blinked quickly, several times, still not completely processing the news.
It all made sense now, why you looked bigger than the average pregnant woman, why he had heard more than two heartbeats and had rushed you towards the ER thinking that maybe there was something wrong with your hearts.
Fucking hell. He had already mentally prepared himself for one baby, how was he going to manage two?? He was barely an adequate father for Laura, how would he manage with two new babies?? What if he wasn't good enough? What if he was a terrible father? What if they hated him? Whay if YOU hated him? He wouldn't be able to live with that.
He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, someone was calling his name, but the voice looked so far away and drowned by the constant ringing in his ears. The hand shaked his shoulder and he looked up at your face. So pretty, so sweet, his little wife.
She looks concerned.
No.
He doesn't want you concerned. It's not good for the babies. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be dragged into his pity party. You were too good for him.
"Logan, it's is going to be okay, alright? I'm here." Your mouth was forming words, but he could barely comprehend them. Had you always smelled so sweet? So enciting? The light from the fluorescent tube was enveloping you like a halo.
Your hand moved from his broad shoulder to his cheek, he found himself leaning into it. He always found confort in your touch, so soft and warm.
"Babe, I know you're scared." He opened his mouht to argue. "No, listen. I know this was unexpected, fuck I'm freaking out myself; we didn't plan for this Logan. But we will pull through together, like always." You gave him your sweetest smile, despite being terrified yourself. He could smell it on you.
Logan gave you a lopsided smile, or at least he tried to. His large hand covered yours. For a couple of seconds it was the two, no, four of you, all alone against the world.
He had always thought of himself as undeserving of love, happy endings weren't made for him. He either outlived them or drove them away. But now, now he had a chance. He could grow as old as he could with you, raise your kids in peace. No one would go after you, no threat against mutantkind would rip you away.
Two, three, four babies, who cared? As terrifying as that sounded he had been given this gift and he got to share it with you. He would manage, you would manage, as you two always did.
His breaths became steadier, much more calm than they had been moments before. Logan's eyes went downwards, to your belly, which was the current home of your future kids. Just the thought of watching them grow and develop filled him with a warm feeling barely known to him.
He didn't know why, but he was sure everything would be alright.
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madamechrissy · 9 days ago
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♔ Silent Serenades ♔
♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔
♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader
♔ Content/Warnings: Dirty talk, Satoru calls reader 'slut, whore' etc during sex, smacking (ass, titties, pussy and face lol) mentions of past cheating, lil bit of angst but mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (m and f recieving) teasing, mentions of jealousy- Gojo don't know shit abt asthma BUT HE TRIES lol
♔ Word count: this chap: 11k
♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you
A/N- I go into Gojo's pov but don't divide them! I hope the style if that is okay. <3 Comments and Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyyy
Part Twelve ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist
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♔ Part Thirteen ♔
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“What is wrong?” King Sukuna asks you, holding you far too tightly, as your head starts to spin, Satoru breaks away his look to see you, terrified now.
“Her asthma, fuck… she…”
“Fetch the physician and tell him her condition.” The King picks you up effortlessly in his arms. “I’ll carry her to a room.”
“I can carry her-”
“No need.” Sukuna walks in quick long strides as you feel your breaths more and more shallow, as the castle spins right above you, you can’t even hear Satoru anymore, or see him, though he is frantic. Soon King Sukuna has you laid on a bed, sitting right on it with you, as the physician rushes through the halls.
Satoru’s pulling you against him, cupping your face gently. “Please, please be all right, Princess.” He whispers, and you feel your own tears, wanting to stroke his cheek, but your hands are numb, your arms are limp as you try to speak. “I’ll give you all of my oxygen, baby.”
Satoru blows into your mouth gently, clinging to your body so tight, when Sukuna pulls you off him. “The physician is here, he knows how to handle this, that won’t help her any.”
“Can you sit up, your grace?” The doctor comes in now, holding a blue and white little ceramic pot, you try to nod, you think you do? Sukuna helps you up, holding you by the waist as you put your lips to the tube now. Satoru’s rubbing your back, the two men on either side of you holding you, as you inhale.
You feel the vapors in your lungs, and begin coughing violently into your hand, leaning towards Satoru as you do. He begins to stroke your hair, your ears are ringing, so dizzy and weak, he’s cupping your face gently. “Inhale again, please Princess.”
You inhale once more, coughing again, finally starting to register the room full of various faces, blinking them into focus. “What is this?” You whisper weakly, to Satoru’s exhale of relief.
“A mudge inhaler, your Grace. You have asthma and don’t have one?” The doctor said, and you frown then, shaking your head.
“My parents never really did anything- ahem- for it.” Your voice is hoarse, Satoru’s hatred of your mother grows, but also of himself.
“Take another.” The King orders, and you do, coughing much less this time, as the vapors have started to clear your airways, you gulp air greedily. “And you, Duke Gojo, never thought to have it checked?”
“I… we…” He trails off then, the words shattering him, highlighting all the inadequacies he already feels as a husband towards you, seeing Sukuna’s hand brush up and down your back, seeing you all pale and weak like this.
Why didn’t he do it? Why didn’t he make sure a doctor looked into this? He knows he loves you, fuck he loves you more than anything, so why has he not made sure you’re taken care of? He feels like a fucking idiot, as Sukuna helps you, a whole King who barely knows you, doing more than your husband, and as his ex smirks over at you both, her presence making it worse.
Got he wants to smack the smile off her, if he could he would, he ignores her completely, she makes him so sick to his stomach, focusing on you as you take your shaky little breaths. You look up at him, lidded eyes emotional, then your gaze goes to Adelia, and he sees it, the worry there. Of course you’re worried, after what he has put you through.
Satoru doesn’t know how you deal with what he’s done and still trust him at all, he would never betray that trust, but he marvels at it. At your resolve to forgive him, to let your past go. You chose him, you chose Satoru Gojo, over a man he could so clearly see adored you, loved you with all his fucking heart. A good man, perhaps better than Satoru in many ways.
But you chose him.
Satoru can never make you regret giving him such a chance, a chance he doesn’t deserve but he wants to earn it, to make you see it was the right one. But he’s so entranced with you, with your body, your giggles, your fiery little attitude, kissing and hugging and making love to you. So entranced he hasn’t thought about other things, like your frail health at times.
“I did not know much about it, this is my fault for not researching.” Satoru says, you go to open your mouth, but he stops you. “It is.”
“Never fear, she can have this and take it home. I’ll have our physician let her lady’s maid know how to use it.”
“Please do, I’ve only known of coffee as a help.” Nan says now, you look to her, seeing her blinking tears and sniffling. “My King, you're a lifesaver.”
“Tch, it’s a trifle.” Sukuna says now, Satoru sees your Nan, who rightfully hates him, practically fawn over the arrogant fucking King, who still has a hand on his wife’s narrow back, hand taking it over entirely, a hand he wants to cut off.
He should be only focusing on your health, not the fact that he wants to commit regicide currently. He shuts his eyes now, pulling you against his chest, seeing your color come back. He feels so ignorant, blowing into your mouth, he needs to learn more, to do more. But you just lean up now and kiss him, lips barely able to make pressure, breaking him into pieces.
“It’s all right, Satoru. You didn’t know.” You whisper, trying to console him, you always do that, comfort him, help him, when you should be furious.
“I’ll learn more, I promise.” You nod and snuggle against him, so small in his embrace, as he brushes back your hair.
“You both should rest before dinner, you may stay the night so we can monitor the Duchess.” Sukuna says now, clearing his throat.
You look at Sukuna now, smiling and sitting up, putting a hand on his as the air starts filling your lungs more freely. “Thank you, your Majesty, you have truly been so kind to me. I cannot stay and impose.”
“Nonsense, have a room set.” His staff curtseys and steps out in formation, Sukuna goes to help you up but Satoru is on you in a flash, possessive arm wrapped around your waist, to Sukuna’s amused smirk.
“We do appreciate it, don’t we Satoru?” You look up at him, his sullen face, pouty lips and lidded blue eyes.
“Helping with your asthma? Yes we do.” He agrees, tersely, you gasp then as Sukuna pulls you by your hand, having you fall into step against him.
“Some fresh air will do you well Duchess.” Before you can think he’s taking you out of the room, you peer back at Satoru and Adelia, stomach flipping, feeling fucking sick as you do.
“Don’t say a fucking word.” Satoru says to her once he watches the King of England with his damn wife, left with this evil woman he’d love to forget.
Now that he looks at her, all he sees is her and not you. Despite the insane resemblance, her jaw is harder, her eyes narrowed and colder, her entire presence is completely different. And not just that, because of her, he chose to be so cruel to you, she is a walking, talking reminder of all he’s done.
“Oh, Satoru, it’s been so long.” She murmurs, brushing a hand on his chest, tilting her head back and batting her lashes at him.
He yanks her hand off, shivering with disgust. “Do not presume to call me by that ever again.” He glares down at her, at your copy, not understanding how he can be so in love with you but hate her so very much.
“Don’t miss me? You married my twin it seems.”
“She’s a better woman than you could ever be, in every way. How the fuck are you even here?”
“A king can outrank a Duke you know.” She smiles, nasty and mean, and even at your most cruel, your sweetness and kind nature shone through, and that is truly where you both were completely different.
“Having fun fucking the King? At least he’s not old like my dad.”
Adelia glares now. “Oh Jesus, you think I wanted to!?”
“You were moaning pretty loud.” Satoru shivers at the memory of the ‘love of his life’ riding his father’s dick, the traumatic memories make him want to vomit, in fact just any memory of her makes him want to. She pouts now, putting on those fake eyes, the ones that used to play him so well.
“He was a powerful man, and he resented you. It was his idea-”
“You were on top moaning and laughing.”
“Well, like father like-”
“I swear I’m itching to slap you across this fucking room. Cease speaking to me, I’m not above hitting you, do not mistake me for the boy you know. Though I would prefer my wife get a whack first.” Satoru says, smirking now and turning.
“Oh, and you think you’re good enough for her? When Sukuna has intentions to make her his royal mistress?”
“What now!?” Satoru turns back and scowls, Adelia is snickering, sauntering up to him, trying to touch his hip, but he shoves off her hands.
“You’re awfully faithful for someone with so many rumors. I heard you paraded women around your ball and everything, you think she’ll forget all that?”
“It’s none of your damned affair.” Satoru looks at the windows facing the gardens now, seeing you walking next to the King.
“And you think she’s loyal to someone like you?”
Satoru steps to her now, arms barring her on either side of the wall. “What game do you fucking play?”
“I could play lots of games.” She leans close, excitement in her eyes, the eyes the color of yours but just nothing like you, how could he not have seen you all this time before?
Her hands trailing up his chest make his skin crawl, how did he ever want other women, was it because he didn’t have you yet? Was it because he was a fucking idiot, a horrible person, who you’ve somehow found yourself in love with? How could you love someone like him?
“I’ll find whatever it is you’re playing at, and ruin it for you. Go sleep with the King all you want, leave my Duchess the fuck alone.”
She blinks as he steps back. “You’re all pathetic in love again, aren’t you? Gonna let her walk all over you?”
“Difference is, she won’t.”
You wonder at what they’re thinking, what they are speaking of, as the King is showing you around the gardens. You catch a glimpse of Satoru furiously stomping through one of the beveled windows, as Sukuna’s hand rests on your waist still, making you heat up at the contact.
“I am stable now, your Majesty.” You murmur, his full lips turn up, he lets his hand drift down precariously before letting it fall.
“Perhaps I enjoyed holding you.”
You sigh, looking away. “You are too bold.”
“Am I?” He puts his hands in his pockets, leaning low. “I can have whatever I want, you know.”
“I am sure you can, my King. Shall we… head back inside? I do feel much, much better now.
“Let us.” With the tension in the air, you’re just dying to be back in Satoru’s arms, to make sure he is all right.
That knot of worry in your stomach is there, what if he still has feelings for her, what if it makes him hate you again? It’s eating at you, until you see him in the bedroom that a servant leads you to, your heart falters at the pain on his face, at the sadness in his pretty blue gaze, he whispers your name, shutting the door behind you both, cupping your face.
“I hate this, I hate her, I hate him already. I hate that you had to go through this and I couldn’t do anything.”
“Shh, you did nothing wrong.” You try to soothe him, but he shakes his head.
“I did everything wrong, these are just reminders.”
“Satoru, stop it. Now.” You hate the swirling storm in his beautiful eyes, he clings to your wrists, wrapping them with his long fingers, breaths coming faster and faster.
“She is right about me.”
“What!? What did she say!”
“That I’m not enough.”
“Coming from her? She is not right. She is nothing. You have… you have me.” You whisper, stepping even closer towards him, feeling him tremble slightly, tears just sitting on those long white lashes, shattering your heart.
“Look at what I did to you. What if you… I couldn’t blame you if you go for a damn King of all people.” You shake your head, Satoru takes his hands off your wrists, they find your waist, pressing you against his hard body. “What if I lose you now? I could not go on.”
“I’m not going anywhere. She’s filling your head with lies.” Satoru Gojo leans down, breath sweet and hot against your lips, you feel it, the beat of his heart steady against your breasts.
“Are they lies? I see him, he wants you. Do you think a baker makes up for all the whores I slept with!?” His voice breaks, as it breaks you apart, you feel your own emotions swirling in your soul.
“It’s not a game of getting even, my heart can’t take that again. I only want you, can you understand!? If I did not I would not have chosen you, to stay with you, it does not come with your past.”
“You so easily forgive me.” He scoffs then, stepping closer and closer towards the burgundy wall, barring you with one arm, while the other wraps your waist, fingers stroking your back up and down.
“I will not continue to seek some revenge upon you. As… I know you will not be with her, yes?” He glares, leaning even closer, you ache for his lips upon yours, needing that reassurance.
“Of course I will not. Despite being nearly your copy, you are nothing like her, your heart, your soul. Your…” He drifts a hand down, cupping you then over your muslin gown, you moan softly, having been in this palace and now staying here tonight, knowing the woman that destroyed Satoru is here, you two have been on edge. “Your perfect little cunt.”
“Mmm, is it so much better?” You tease, voice breathy when he presses his palm up, you feel your pussy throb around nothing, your tummy clenching with the desire pooling for him.
“God yes, everything about you is better, your mouth, your cunt, your moans, you are so much better than she could be.” He continues applying pressure, lips just a breath away. “I hate how he looks at you, I want to kill him.”
“I only see you, broody man that you are.” He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, drinking in your every cry.
“Next time he sees you, my cum will be dripping down between your thighs.” You gasp as he lifts you, pressing you against the wall, lips devouring yours, hot, messy, tongues dancing and fighting while teeth click. His kiss bruises your lips when you cling to him, legs wrapped around slender hips, feeling his length press on you.
“Then guess what I want?” You breathe out between kisses, when Satoru carries you to the bed, turning you to your stomach to unlace your bodice, nipping and biting your skin as he does, leaving bruises from his mouth.
“My cock in you, hmm? To be all mine?” You gasp in pleasure, head falling back for his dominant bites, he rips apart your bodice now, dragging the gown off you with frantic movements.
“I am yours, but no, I want to make you mine.” You turn, cupping his face, looking right at his hungry eyes and parted lips.
“I am yours, pretty Princess. All yours.”
“If I’m dripping your cum, you’ll have mine all over your lips.” You earn his groan, he’s got you completely stripped, hands gripping your ass, smacking it so hard it makes you soaking wet, you’re shaking with need.
“Need to coat my face with your slutty little cunt?” You gasp out as he runs his fingers on your slick folds, you arch your ass up for more.
“Please.” His breath is hot on your lips, he pulls them apart to reveal your little hole, drooling arousal out of it.
“Mine.” Satoru speaks against you, already soaked, when the tip of his tongue laps you up, making your hips twitch, his big hands keep your thighs apart as your body tries to close them. “Open.”
“Fuck…” He’s fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, over and over, drinking all your juices that pour into his mouth, dripping down his face. Your eyes roll back into your skull, jerking when his tongue slips up, licking you from your clit to your ass, fingering you now, biting your ass cheek. “Satoru!”
“All mine. Say it, Princess.” His voice just makes you ache even more, fingers curling in your velvety slick walls, you hear the sound of it, echoing in the elegant room, finding yourself falling apart all over them now. “Ah- ah. No cumming if you don’t.”
“Yours, Satoru, yours.” You manage to whine out the words, Satoru presses up on that spot, you’re blinded now, cumming so hard you would collapse if he wasn’t holding you around your hips. He has you flipped so fast you’re dizzy, you hastily unbutton his dress shirt with the shakiest hands, heaving breaths as you reveal his perfect body.
You’re slipping down his trousers as he reveals his chiseled body, every inch sculpted like the finest statue, you lean up on your elbows, hungrily pecking kisses on his pale skin, gripping his cock when it’s springing out. Precum dots along the slit of his pink tip, you swirl your thumb along it, pressing in, finding him so sensitive he cries out for you.
“Yours, all yours.” You say again, watching his eyes get darker, his movements rough when he grips your thigh, sinking deep, stuffing you so full so fast.
“I am, all yours. Slutty fucking Princess of mine, my slutty girl. No one- ah- else! No one, f-fuck…” He’s pumping you so full, pressing you down, a hand on your throat as the other braces himself over you, you cling to his back, nails pressing in, so full you feel him all over.
“Y-yes, s’all yours- ah!” Satoru’s fucking you so hard you feel him slamming against your cervix, hand on your throat pressing into delicate flesh, thumb brushing your pulse point, pressing, taking your oxygen.
You don’t need oxygen with him, you’ll gladly give him your every breath, when he leans over you, slamming his lips back upon yours, squeezing harder while he sinks his cock in long, slow strokes. You’re cumming before you can think to give any signal, gasping out pathetically under him.
“That’s it, fuckin feel her. Making a mess, huh Duchess?” He’s fucking your squishing cunt, the wetness pouring as you’re cumming, orgasm washing over you while you try to catch a breath, heightening it. You pant when he releases your throat, thighs squeezing around him, walls pulsating.
Satoru’s rolling his hips, eliciting a soft whimper, breath ragged now, feeling the grip that’s pressed so deep bruising and sore. You yank him by his soft white hair, dragging his mouth back on yours, he bites your lower lip, teeth sinking in, cock soaked in you as it works you, as he fucks every thought and worry out of your head, you’re only aware of him.
“L-love you.” You mewl weakly, Satoru leans back, placing your leg over his shoulder, slowly stroking inside your walls, watching you intently, biting at the thin skin of your ankle. “Ngh!”
“Want you to have all of me.” You blink back tears at that, sniffling, nodding now, when he slows and lets out a groan.
“W-want it, all of you, Toru.” The use of that name drives him crazy, he pulls open your mouth with two fingers, you open eagerly, while his saliva spits down into your eager mouth, hot and sticky.
“Perfect, pretty whore f’me, hmm?” His words along with his throbbing cock inside you are your downfall.
“Your pretty whore, Duke.” Your strangled whisper after you swallow his spit ends him, he gets frantic, his eyes so bright they’re insane, shoving your thighs up and bending you in half now.
“Gonna fill you s’good, everyone will fucking know you’re mine.” He huffs, pounding your cunt, making the most lewd noises as he does, over and over, his eyes never leaving yours. You drown in them, in him, nodding as he keeps mumbling, as he whimpers damn near, feeling your cunt constricting him while he pushes you both over the edge.
You can feel your orgasm rising again, and then he’s slamming in, harder than you’re used to, so hard and deep you feel like he’s splitting you in half, but you’re desperate for it, for all of his madness. You scream out, eyes rolling back in your head, then he follows, groaning and gasping, filling you up with hot sticky cum, making your walls flutter as your dripping wetness gushes.
When he’s done he keeps pumping, leaning low and cupping your face, big hands taking you over, you taste yourself on his lips when he kisses you, still pumping, making both of you oversensitive. “F-fuck… S-satoru…”
“I know, Princess, I know. Fuck.” He exhales now, finally pulling out, letting your legs fall to the side, your body is completely limp, your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, erratic as you try to gain any of your senses.
Satoru pulls away, looking at you with a soft smile and lazy eyes, the rare smile that always breaks your fucking heart. His hand is stroking your cheek as you blink up at him, and for these blissful moments, you have forgotten the world outside of this room, this bed, his touch.
There is no Adelia.
There are no issues.
There is no troubled past.
It’s just you and Satoru.
“You’re crying?” He murmurs, dilated eyes looking your face over, thumbs stroking your cheeks gently.
“For a moment it’s just us.” You whisper, he gulps then, resting his forehead on yours, lashes so long they tickle your face, heart beating so fast you feel it against overheated skin.
“I know, it is just us, just you. Everything…”
“Faded away.”
“Yes.” He exhales now, kissing your forehead, a gesture so rare and sweet you find your emotions even more heightened, hands clinging to his shoulders.
“If the world would fade away, we could be happy, you think?”
“I am happier with you than I have ever been.” He kisses you so deeply, his seed is trickling out of your abused hole now, you feel it aching and throbbing, wincing a bit and shifting. He snorts. “Too rough, brat?”
“Oh fuck you, moment over.” He laughs then, making you melt, as you giggle through your tears. “We can get through this.”
“Of course-”
There is a resounding knock on the door, he glares as he looks back, the voice breaking through the barriers. “King Sukuna has asked you both to prepare for dinner, he has a gift for the Duchess.”
“I’ll fucking kill-”
“Satoru.” You both get dressed quickly, Satoru is fuming, his cheeks are bright red and his eyes are deadly, you finally go to open the door to see the servant holding an elegant box. “Oh, tell his Majesty thank you.”
The servant bows their head. “Of course, your Grace. Dinner will be promptly at seven.”
You shut the door, taking the box and setting it on the side table, opening it and gasping as you see a brilliant amethyst tiara nestled on top of tissue wrapped clothing. Satoru is visibly shaking behind you, while you take the tiara carefully with both of your hands, admiring the delicate gold wiring. It's not huge or pretentious, but it is clearly expensive and fine work.
“Is he serious? You are married.” Satoru scoffs now, you set the tiara aside, opening the tissue paper to reveal the gown, it’s all white and purple gossamer, beautiful lacy decolletage, far lower than usual for you. “I’ll kill him.”
“Satoru it’s just one more day that we are here, surely he is being kind?”
“Kind!? No. He plays a game, perhaps with her, I do not trust him despite him being our king. If he wants you, he can have you, even married to me.” Satoru’s voice sounds strangled, you hear his panic set in. “I cannot lose you.”
“You will not!” You turn then, taking his hand now. “You’re letting the fear eat at you, like me earlier.”
“How he held you… I…”
“Shh.” You kiss his plump lips, over and over.
“Do not wear it.”
“Satoru, how rude would it be to refuse this?” He sighs, rolling his eyes, before pulling out the dress, raising a brow as he holds it against you.
“God if you won’t have your tits out in this. I’ll-”
“Satoru!” You’re giggling now, earning his further glare. “Who knew you would be so jealous, hmm?”
Satoru sets the dress back down, pulling you against him by your waist. “You are everything to me, I will not let anything else happen to us. I have so much to make up for you know.”
You nod, letting him hold you, resting your head upon his chest, eye catching a note then. “Hmm.” You unfold it, and it’s the King’s writing.
Meet me before dinner, so I may give you a proper tour of the throne room.
“I swear to god, the audacity of this man.”
You peer at your husband curiously, tilting your head just a bit. “He reminds me of you just a bit-”
“Excuse me!?” Your giggle is gone when Satoru has you bent over the dresser now, lifting your skirts, smacking your ass so hard you yelp. “Bratty mouth, should occupy it.”
“Mmm, you should.” He’s shoving two fingers in your cunt now, making you cry out at how much it burns.
“You’re wasting all my cum, that won’t do.” He leans over you, breathing against your ear. “Should I teach you a lesson in wasting it?”
“=sSensitive.” You whine now, head falling back for his kisses across your neck, until his teeth sink in, biting the fuck out of you, the pain and pleasure pricing your skin, you scream out at it weakly, while you hear the sounds of his cum and your fresh arousal drooling down his long fingers.
“You’re mine.” His words, his hands, his lips, they’re too much with how sensitive you are, you feel dizzy. “Think about that when you’re with him.”
Satoru pulls away, leaving you breathless, you scowl back at him now. “You are extremely jealous, dear god Satoru.”
“Not jealous, just I know what is mine.” He kisses you again, hands tight in your hair, you exhale into his lips.
“Shh, insane man.” Another knock on the door, Satoru grabs it in long strides, letting a maid in.
“I’m here to help you dress, your Grace.”
“I certainly can do it for her-”
“It’s his Majesty’s orders.” Satoru’s blue eyes narrow, you both share a look before he stomps out angrily.
What was tonight going to be like?
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You walk out now, donned in the gown that King Sukuna has sent you, it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve worn, rivaling your wedding gown. It fits you so well it’s rather concerning, how could he know such a thing, you consider perhaps Adelia, but she’s taller than you and built a bit different, also how would he know you look the same as her?
Why he isn’t trying to get with her, presumably single, concerns you to no end, but you try to brush it off as you approach the handsome King, who smirks at you, cocky and condescending to no end. There were the tiny similarities with Satoru, you think to yourself, how he has absolutely no issue devouring so shamelessly the lines and curves of your body with his eyes.
They glint ruby as the pupils shrink slightly, the light streaming in the elegant room now, he sits there on his throne as if he owns it, and you suppose he does. He rests a chin on his hand, leaning forward, long legs spread wide, you step closer now, satin swishing against the floor, your heels gently clicking on the marble beneath you, echoing in the chamber.
“I knew it would look good on you, but this good. Fuck.” He sounds nothing like a king, you think, as you step before him, and he stands, looming so tall over you. King Sukuna makes everything seem small in his presence.
“It is a beautiful dress and tiara, I thank you kindly, your Majesty.” You do a little curtsy, but Sukuna stops you, hands on yours now, swallowing them, his hands are rough and brutal, you’ve heard of his military exploits, but feeling them is an entirely different thing.
“No need to be so formal now. Let me look at you.” He tilts your chin up, exhaling, grinning with sharp white teeth. “I thought Adelia was beautiful, but you’re something else entirely.”
“We do look very much alike.” You murmur. “But I do not think she or I are more beautiful than-”
“No, she’s a bitch.” You giggle out of nowhere.
“Sorry!”
“No, she is though. God she’s annoying, I only put up with her because she’s superb in bed. But you. Delicate, elegant, perfect… yet there’s something fiery in your eyes.”
“Your Majesty-”
“Sukuna.”
You feel your cheeks heat as he steps around you, chuckling and then whistling a bit. “You have no shame?”
“I’m a fucking King, who needs that. Boring.” He’s running his fingertips across your back, just barely, eyeing you from all angles. “I must have you.”
“What now!?” You turn angrily, crossing your arms, drawing his lewd gaze to your breasts.
“Royal mistress. I could give you things your Duke never could, fuck I’d give you  whole country if you wished it.” He brushes his fingertips across your cheek, you smack his hand away, only enhancing his grin.
“I am married, there are many women who would die for such an honor I’m sure, but I would never.”
“Oh?” He raises a brow, dark with three odd slits in it, only making him more intimidating. Your breasts rise and fall with your heavy breaths, your indignation. “And your Duke, so loyal hmm?”
“He is.” You say firmly, King Sukuna snickers again.
“Even with his old lover, you think?”
“How do you-”
He leans close, lips a breath from yours. “Sweetheart, I know fucking everything, I’m a King, did you forget?”
“N-no. Why not do kingly duties and leave idle gossip alone?” You demand, hissing the words out through your teeth.
He runs a rough thumb over your lower lip. “Is it idle gossip? Many know in every circle that your husband paraded mistresses around, it was said you two did not even share a bed.”
“Well couldn’t be more wrong, because we just shared a bed.” You smirk at him, now, he glares at you for just a moment, before going back to his laughter, hand falling but brushing down a bare shoulder.
“Ah, to show you a real man, Duchess.”
“I know a real man, thank you.” You step back, his eyes devour you entirely, to where it’s like a physical touch.
“He does all that, and you’re so loyal?”
“Is it time for dinner, your Majesty?” He tilts his head, running a hand through the pastel locks of his, inclining it then and holding out an arm.
“Let us go take a turn about, Duchess, it is time soon.” He says teasingly, you try not to roll your eyes at the audacity of him, nestling your hand in the crook of his elbow, you both walk through the throne room now, it’s certainly brilliant, silvers and golds, myriads of prisms reflecting from the chandeliers above.
“It is beautiful, surely.” You murmur, walking alongside him, his long strides agonizingly slow.
“So, tell me, Duchess, how is your marriage?” Sukuna’s question is so casual, so off-handed, you want to laugh, but instead, you keep a straight face, looking up at him and blinking at his audacity.
“It’s wonderful, thank you for asking, your majesty.” You say with a bright smile, Sukuna chuckles then.
“Wonderful?” His voice draws those words out.
“Yes, it has been wonderful. Though arranged as most marriages are, we are very much in love.”
You speak the very truth, you are madly in love with your husband, despite the past consistently trying to tear at you both. There are so many moments of peace snuggled next to him in the morning, giggling as he teases you during breakfast, then of course the passion at night. Until today, things had been going perfect for just a bit.
“Ah, but what of your needs? Do you not feel neglected?” His voice interrupts your thoughts.
“I assure you, my needs are exceeded.” The memories of Satoru just a half hour ago fill your head, making it swirl.
“But what of your desires?”
You feel your cheeks heat, glaring at him as you all finally arrive at the doors to the hall. “I dare say, my desires are more than met, my husband and I are very similar.” Freaky, in fact you think back on his hand around your throat, him shoving cum back in your cunt, overheating.
“Do the thoughts make you blush?” He teases.
“It is not your place to question that.”
Sukuna laughs, the sound echoing. “Fiery, I like that.”
“Fiery?” You roll your eyes, walking and hearing her voice then, Adelia, she’s tugging on Satoru’s tie, he scowls and smacks her hand, to her anger and your little smile as you peer at them.
“The fuck off me, walking plague.” He brightens when he sees you, but then his glare is back and darker, when Sukuna’s hand comes over yours, his blue eyes glittering angrily across the expanse of hall.
Adelia is scowling at him, then at you, before she steps even closer, leaning up and whispering something in Satoru’s ear, you watch his face fall and pause now. “Something wrong, Duchess?” Sukuna asks.
“Excuse me, my King.” You step away from him, walking right up to Satoru and Adelia, Satoru quickly snatches you by the waist, much to Adelia’s irritation. “Keep your grimy little hands off my husband.”
She eyes you up and down. “As if you’ll keep your hands off the King? I doubt that.”
You smile, cold and nasty at her. “I only want Satoru. I’ll leave all the sleeping around to you, I hear you’re quite good at it.” Satoru snorts next to you, as does Sukuna, who has just walked up.
Adelia scowls, mouth wide open. “Excuse me? As if Satoru hasn’t-”
“Do not call him by his first name. He is your grace to you, considering you have no title I’m aware of?”
“Snobby little thing aren’t you Duchess? Well, do not worry, I can call him whatever I want to. After all, it was I who took his virginity, taught him all he knows.” You blink then, Sukuna snorts once more, Satoru is flushed bright pink on his cheeks, at such an intimate detail.
“So? What do I care if you did, I did not know him. You have no claim over him because of it, dear god. You’re like a dog.” She gasps, Sukuna seems to be cracking the fuck up. Satoru even joins in the laughter for a moment.
“A dog!?”
“Let’s have dinner?” Sukuna snatches your arm back up, leaving Satoru to stomp after you all, and Adelia to rush and follow.
What a fucking mess this is.
And of course King Sukuna has requested you sit next to him, his big hand brushing your thigh under the table, you feel the urge to smack it but you try to remember the consequences to such a thing. Satoru’s on the other side of him, Adelia is not fit to have dinner at your table so thank god you both didn’t have to sit with her, and Princess Urame is seated next to Satoru.
She is very quiet and only speaks here and there, a complete opposite to her highly annoying brother. You cannot stand the pretentious man truly, of course, Satoru is fuming, and Sukuna’s hand is slipping under your skirts. You snatch his hand up in a grip, batting your lashes and smiling pretty, leaning close.
“Just because you are a king does not mean I may not accidentally break your fingers.” You whisper, he snorts then, eyeing you even more hungrily, especially your decolletage, which reveals far too much of your breasts for his view.
“You break my fingers? You’re a delicate little thing, I doubt you could even leave a scratch on my back.” He teases, hot sultry breath against your ear.
“You will not find out about any scratches on your back unless you ask my husband. He has a few.” Sukuna raises a brow at you, as Adelia comes to serve Satoru a drink, ‘accidentally’ spilling it.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” Her voice grates on your last nerve, you watch your husband completely snap, like a bow strung too tightly.
“You little-”
“Satoru.” You murmur, he stands then, laughing madly, hand raking through his snow white hair, you can tell he has absolutely lost it, when he laughs he is truly done for.
“I’ll help you clean it-”
“The fuck you will, Adelia. I’ve had quite enough of whatever this is. Oh, your Majesty, care to take your hand off my wife’s leg?” Sukuna leans back in his seat, like he owns the damn room, but again, he does.
He is now gazing at Satoru amusedly. “You should let her help you, catch up, you know.” Sukuna’s infuriating both of you, amusing Adelia.
Just what is it with them!?
“Fuck that, fuck you. Excuse me Princess, for my shitty language.” Urame just nods a bit. “I think we are fine to leave tonight, no need to stay.”
“But after your wife passed out? You must let her rest, would you be such a selfish husband?”
“Oh I’m selfish.”
“Have a seat, Duke.” Satoru slumps back down, you ache to hold him, to caress his cheek, to let him know it will be alright, feeling the lump in your throat. “Now, we have a ball here this week. I would love it if you would be my guests, if you must go home tonight.”
“We will be delighted.” You say, putting on a fake smile now, and later that evening Satoru and you are finally headed back, it’s dark and late at night, it’s quiet for a time, you’re still in this ridiculous dress, the tiara on your head. Satoru is sullen and clearly affected, making you ache for him.
“I hated that I couldn’t do anything.” He says finally, you put your hand on his, shaking your head.
“What could you do in that situation, Satoru? Let’s just be glad we can go home tonight. I could not stand another moment there.” He exhales, nodding, dragging you onto his lap now.
“I just want us to be able to be happy.” Your heart breaks at his vulnerable words now, words you feel in your very soul. “I don’t want to see her again, I don’t want to go to some stupid ball, it makes me sick to think of it at all.”
“I feel the same, but we will make it through, yes? We have each other.” He nods quietly, clinging to you tightly, the more time you both spend, the more open and vulnerable he becomes.
What once was a very harsh, brooding and serious man, is a light hearted, sweet, caring man. He is thoughtful and funny, he is also very emotional, so different from the cold, calculated man on your wedding night. You wish so badly you could have known him like this from the beginning.
And fear so badly what more damage Adelia can do to his progress.
“Talk to me about something, anything, I must get my mind off his fucking hands on your perfect body.” You shift now, brushing back his hair softly.
“The only hands I desire are already here.”
“Are they rough enough?” He teases, and you glare. “I’m kidding!”
“I like them soft and elegant.” You hold out his long fingers now, swamping your little hand. “I love these piano fingers of yours.”
“Piano fingers, hmm? And I love your stubby little-”
“Fuck you.”
He snorts in laughter, and you break into a giggle yourself, letting him hold you against his chest as the carriage gently rocks you, lulling you along with his steady heartbeat. “Sleepy, brat?”
“Mmm, I am.” You yawn again, eyes fluttering shut, you cling to his jacket, as he brushes his hands up and down your arms.
“I can’t lose you.” His soft words make you look at him in the dark, he cups your face, bringing his lips to yours.
“You will not lose me. I can’t lose you, either.”
“Would you be better off-”
“I’ll smack you.” He sighs. “I hate what she’s already fucking doing to you, where’s my cocky ass of a husband?”
“Somewhere.” He grumbles. “Just rest.”
“Satoru…”
“Rest, I’ll wake you when we are there. You went through a lot today.”
“I’m fine, I promise.” You kiss him again, hating Adelia with every bit of your fucking body and soul for what she can do to the love of your life in moments. “I can stay up.”
“I like to hold you while you sleep.” You kiss him slowly, drinking in his soft moan, before burying your face against the warm crook of his neck again, wrapping your arms under his coat around his waist.
“Just for a minute.” You blink then when Satoru is carrying you in his arms, into the dark halls of your home, you yawn and snuggle against him more. “Satoru, you could have woken me up.”
“I really need you in my arms right now. Yes, it’s fucking-”
“Sweet.”
“Ugh.” You giggle at him, he helps undress you, until you’re slipping on your nightgown, letting out another yawn as he helps you up into his bed, pulling you against his bare chest now. “I could get used to this treatment.”
“Princess treatment, hmm.” You nod, kissing his lips, brushing snowy hair back, feeling such bliss you cannot quite describe it, can’t put it into words, mixed with the pit in your stomach.
“Am I really related to that bitch?” You whisper, Satoru snorts.
“Your mouth, so dirty.”
“Oh whatever term should I use!?
“It fits well, you must be related, if not, what the hell is this resemblance? But she’s not from nobility as far as I ever knew.”
“Hmm, perhaps my father… no, she looks like my mother. Dear God should we do some investigating into this?”
“Only if you want to, matters naught to me. Do you think your mother would even allow such questions?”
“Not her, but the staff loves me, and they know everything. Perhaps I’ll get a little information, since she and the King seem so interested in our lives.”
“I love you, sneaky little brat.”
“I love you, broody man.” You lean up, kissing him gently. “I will make some inquiries, you know Shoko and Suguru are coming tomorrow?”
“Yes, now I have to watch my best friends together, it's disgusting.” You roll your eyes at him, soon you’re laying back against him in the quiet night, safe in his arms.
“I do not want this happiness to end either, I’m so terrified, Satoru.”
“Even a King and a royal bitch will not fuck this up for me.”
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“The King!? Holy shit I need a drink.” Shoko holds out her wine glass for more, Suguru whistles and leans back, holding his glass out for a whiskey pour, little Satoru the puppy is happily in Satoru- the husband’s- lap, panting happily much to Satoru’s dismay. You scratch him behind the ears as you sip your own wine.
“Yes the King wants her as his ‘royal mistress’.” Satoru tosses back his glass, now holding his up for a pour, the puppy hops down and starts running around you all, as he wipes off his lap. “Damned deformed bunny sheds so bad.”
“You love him.” Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes, dragging your chair closer, an arm wrapped around you, much to the pleasure of Suguru and Shoko.
“If the King wants her…” Suguru trails off with a sigh.
“Fuck do I know.”
“It will not happen. Now, how are you two?”
“Much better now that my friend isn’t being a piece of shit.” Suguru says, an arm around Shoko’s waist, she snickers.
“Same, actually, took the thoughts from my mouth.” They both stick their tongues out at Satoru.
“Yes well, I’m sure the person most happy is her.” He pecks a kiss on your cheek, making them heat up.
“So you all were to explain things somewhat? She was absolutely going to leave you, and I was honestly happy.” Shoko says, lighting a cigarette on her gold cigarette holder, Satoru glares. “What?”
“I was for it as well. Why the change?”
“Well…” You look at him now, he nods. “I was going to leave him, I had a man who… wanted to marry me.”
“Who wouldn’t.” Shoko winks at you.
“I love your friends.”
“Fuck you all.”
You all snort in laughter, and you take a breath now, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder. “He brought up me helping with the villages and the towns, his… father seemed to raise everything to an insane rate.”
“Your father was shit for finances. And in general.” Suguru swipes back some of his dark hair now.
“Understatement of the century.” Satoru says.
“Needless to say, I agreed, and the feelings I’d been shoving down due to how awful he was being came full force. I could not stop everything I felt, despite my efforts to hold back.”
“My tongue is that good.”
You smack his shoulder, Suguru and Shoko roll their eyes. “That is not the reason, insolent man.”
He leans close with a bright white grin. “Didn’t hurt though, did it?”
“The whoring was good for something.” You retort, his eyes narrow.
“You little bratty-”
“No foreplay at the dinner table.” Shoko says.
“As if Suguru’s not slipping his hand up your thigh under that tablecloth, yes I know the look.” Suguru clears his throat, blushing, Shoko just grins.
“You’re an ass Satoru.”
“You can be with us if you want to leave him again, Duchess.” Shoko says with a wink, Satoru scowls, crumbling a napkin and throwing it at her.
“You’re such a-”
“It’s a good offer.”
“I’ll beat your ass tonight.” Satoru whispers in your ear, but if you’re being honest it thrills you, as does him pressed against you, hard body, heat emitting and enticing you further.
It’s lovely to relax, just enjoy a dinner with friends, with no insane tactics, back and forths or dramatic surprises. You know the ball will have plenty of that, but to relax and laugh and enjoy yourselves? It feels like everything you were always supposed to have, supposed to feel.
Shoko and Satoru are the last two in a wicked card game, you and Suguru watch them amusedly, when Suguru leans close. “Walk in the gardens?”
“Not a scandalous one again!” He grins, and you both step out into the cool night air, you shiver just a bit despite the alcohol in your blood, Suguru slips his coat over your shoulders. “Ever the gentleman.”
“I try, Duchess. I am so very happy to see him like this.” He looks back, Satoru slams his cards down, waving his arms around wildly.
“I didn't even know he could be this way.” You muse softly, continuing to walk now, until you both sit by the fountain.
“Can I ask you something?” Suguru says softly.
“No more kisses, Sir!” He pouts before smirking a bit. “No, go ahead.”
“How did you forgive him for it? I only saw a little bit, but fuck… I am glad you did, please do not take it so, but it was horrible. Watching you waste away so quickly from being around him.” You look down, snuggling closer with his coat, taking a breath to gather your thoughts.
“It was horrible, he was cruel absolutely, not even the women that bothered me, but his words. Feeling so unwanted, so hated, for something I truly did not understand. It was not an easy task.” You exhale and look up at his warm chocolate eyes, he wraps an arm around your shoulders comfortingly.
“I admire your forgiveness, I do not know if I could have. It’s hard to forgive him for you and he’s like a brother to me.”
“I just love him, Sugu.”
“Sugu hmm?”
“It’s what he calls you.” You smile up at him, he chuckles a bit.
“I’m so special I see. But I do admire you.”
“Thank you, I am never sure if I’m making a terrible decision on any given day, but nothing feels more right than being in his arms.”
“Ah the mush.”
“Hush! I see you and Shoko getting closer.” You wiggle your brows with a grin, Suguru chuckles again.
“It’s lovely to see you happy too, you know.”
“It’s nice to be happy, for a moment. I just wish the world would let us be, but I fear we both have more work cut out for us.”
“Yes, that girl… so odd I never met her, him so in love. I was away doing university at the time but he just quit communicating. I did not know he dealt with such pain, any of it.” You sigh, nodding, Satoru and Shoko walk out now, you both hear them in the distance shouting at each other.
“It was horrible.”
“But no excuse. So forgiving it… I don’t know. I’m impressed.”
“I’m rather impressive at times. Or a disaster.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Quick, fake kiss me, we’ll anger them.” He leans close and you giggle, shoving at him.
“Why did you kiss me, Sugu?”
“You’re beautiful of course, but I felt such tenderness toward you. I hated you feeling that way, it was terrible to witness. As I said, you forgiving him is hard to understand, but I am glad he has you.”
“I am glad he has you two, you’re good for him. He’s so broody you know.”
“Broody? Snuggling, huh?” Satoru crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, you take off Suguru’s coat now, scooching and patting the bench.
“Come sit.” Shoko scooches in between you both, you throw Suguru’s coat on her shoulders now, leaving you to shiver just a bit. “Why don’t you two stay the night? I fear perhaps… Lady Shoko is perhaps feeling ill.”
“She is ill.” Satoru agrees, and Suguru pulls her against him now.
“So sick, look at the color on her cheeks.”
“I am indeed feeling sick.” You stand now, Satoru pulls you against him, your arms slipping under his coat.
“Separate rooms of course but we are going to be too busy to check.” Satoru’s winking at Suguru, you get with your Nan now, who prepares ‘two rooms’ for both of them.
“You’re glowing, Duchess.” Nan says softly, you get a little flustered then, peeking back at Satoru now.
“I’m happy, Nan.” She sighs now, your puppy is running in circles around her ankles, she picks him up and nuzzles him.
“I’m happy if you are, but it’s hard to forget.” You nod quietly, Satoru comes up now, prepared for Nan’s typical glare, but she gives him a little smile before she turns away, leaving Satoru with his mouth open.
“Did she just…”
“She did, I saw it!”
“Maybe she won’t hate me one day?” He takes you by the waist, pulling you flush against him now, pecking kisses on your cheeks.
“She does not hate you, really. She just loves me a lot.”
“I love you more than anyone.” His husky words make a heat pool in your stomach, you tremble now in his hold, needy for his touch, his kiss, his everything.
“And I love you more than anyone.” He moans softly, kissing you deeply. “I want to keep this happiness.”
“We will. If I have to kill a whole king and a bitch ex I will.” You grin, shaking your head at how ridiculous he is. “You so doubt me, brat?”
“Hmm, you’ll have to show me this prowess.” You giggle and run up the stairs, leaving Shoko and Suguru kissing and walking towards one of the rooms, but they look up at you two and smile when both of you aren’t looking.
When the door shuts everything changes, Satoru’s devouring your mouth now, you’re hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of his perfect marble skin. You kiss and lick down his throat, his collarbone, his chest, his hands yank out your bobby pins, they clatter to the floor. He pauses at your little tiara, silver and blue, humming to himself.
“We will keep this on.” He says, turning you around, unlacing you with deft, eager hands, as soon as you’re bare to him he picks you up in his arms, kissing you and pressing you against the burgundy walls, hard length pressing on you.
“Keep my tiara on hmm?” You whisper against his lips, he nods then.
“You’re my slutty princess, you know.” You whine out when his hand slips down, sinking a finger inside your entrance, already slick with want. “So slutty.”
“Maybe Suguru turned me-ah!” You laugh breathlessly when he turns you, smacking your ass so hard it stings.
“Trying to make me jealous, brat?”
“You’re sexy when you- fuck!” Satoru smacks your other ass cheek, smacking you over and over, you’re shaking at how fucking good it feels.
“You are trying to make me angry then? Your slutty cunt gets off on it, doesn’t she?” He fingers you once more, your head falls back in pleasure, gasping as his fingers scissor in and out of your soppy little pussy now.
“Maybe she d-does- ngh!” You’re smacked again, harder this time, it feels so good your eyes damn near roll back.
“You’ve got a bratty mouth tonight, hmm? Should I occupy it?” At your weak little nod he sinks you onto your knees, you eagerly open your mouth for him, as he watches his pretty Princess take his cock so good, tiara and all, like some fucking endless fantasy he’s had for so long.
Your hot wet mouth enwraps him,  your tongue sliding around the tip, feeling him throb and pulse in your mouth. You tongue the yummy precum, letting it coat your tongue as he watches you hungrily, your knees hurt, your ass throbbing, jaw adjusting, but it all serves to make you more soaking wet. You feel your cunt clenching with need as your hands drift up his thighs.
“Will I have to do this every time I want some- ah- peace and quiet? From my loud mouth- f-fuck… brat?” You would giggle if not sucking Satoru deeper, watching those snowy lashes flutter, his abdomen tense and flex.
 You suck him harder and faster, his hands in your hair, pulling and guiding you, groaning with every suck and swirl of your tongue. His breath starts coming in sharp gasps as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit before you suck him deep, taking as much of him as you can, nose against the soft white hair above his cock.
“Fuck baby… fuck you’re so-” He groans, his hips jerking slightly, pushing you down more, his eyes never leaving yours, watching as you take all of him, your throat tight around his length, your cheeks hollowed out. “Beautiful like this, taking me s’fucking g-good.”
Satoru’s whimpering now, head against the wall as he fucks your throat, god nothing could feel better aside from your perfect pussy wrapping him. You’re gagging on him, breathing through your nose, your nails pressing into his skin as you cling to him, moaning around him, the vibrations wrecking him, his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging you closer.
“You want this cock, don’t you Princess?” He asks breathlessly now, pulling your greedy mouth off him, you have saliva dripping down your lips, tears trickling down your cheeks, but you nod eagerly. “Then how do we ask?”
“Please.” He loves you like this, when his feisty little Duchess submits so sweetly, but it’s truly he who submits to you, picking you up off your knees, carrying you to his bed, your bed… both of you sleep here every night now.
His lips kiss his taste off of you, swapping saliva so messy now, backing you until you’re against the bed, he gets you on all fours, smacking your pussy now, you scream out at it, shaking. “Look at you, covered in my handprints.”
You cannot see what Satoru sees, your ass arched so pretty, hips so inviting, he smacks your puffy cunt again, making you twitch and jerk, head falling back, tiara falling just to the side of your now messy hair. “Please…”
“Please what, Princess?”
“Smack me more.” He moans now, smacking you again and again, pulling you up to your knees, grinding his cock between your sticky inner thighs, pressing between your folds and against your neglected clit. You whine and shake at the sensation, hips arching back and forth as you cry out.
“Smack you where?” He nips down your neck now, hot hard length slipping easier and easier against you, tip nudging your clit.
“Fucking everywhere, please.” He turns you now, laying you on your back, smacking your breasts, you arch your hips up, cunt glistening with your arousal.
“Everywhere, hmm? Pretty little whore.” He smacks each tit again, watching them jiggle and marks forming from his fingers. “Here?”
“Y-yes. There. Satoru!” He’s smacking your face now, it hurts so bad you almost fucking cum then and there, so oversensitive and ready, he laughs at you, sexy and overwhelming, eyes dilated and lidded.
“Smack your pretty face?” He smacks your other cheek, you whimper out. “Pathetic f’me, huh?”
“F-fuck you. Yes.” He kisses your cheeks, each one, where he’s smacked you now, hand slipping under your chin and pressing up on your pulse point, feeling it race and flutter like a butterfly as his tip presses on your entrance.
“Fuck me?”
“Fuck me.”
“How do we say-”
“Satoru, fuck me now, I swear you-” Satoru sinks in your cunt now in one stroke, stretching and filling you full, he leans low over you, your thighs shaking, breasts heaving with your erratic breaths as his eyes drink you in.
“Something to say?” He slides out then back in, grabbing your thighs as he does, you scream out weakly, he laughs softly against your ear, arms sinking to their elbows over you. “That’s what I thought.”
You’re moaning as an answer, when he finally moves, stroking in and out with his thick cock, as your arousal pools and slips down the veins of it, you hear it, the sounds of him fucking into you, mixing with both of your gasps. Satoru cups your face so tightly, squeezing hard, as he pounds your pussy harder, your head sinks against the silk of his pillows, hips pulling back.
“Ah-ah, do not run Princess.” Satoru yanks your hips back, making you scream out when he shoves his cock so deep it’s breaking you.
“T-too deep!” You whine out, but you’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his skin, eyes locked with his while he works you, until his lips are slammed against yours, sucking every bit of oxygen, you gladly give it, screaming into his mouth while he’s thrusting over and over.
Satoru groans, flipping you then, you’ve only been on him once, so you flush just a bit before rolling your hips, head falling back. He moans, grabbing your tits as they bounce and you’re working over him, taking his length as good as you can. He grabs your hips, licking his glossy lower lip, your hands bracing on his strong chest while you sink down.
“That’s it, pretty slut. Look at you, taking cock so fuckin’ good.” His words urge you on, he fixes your tiara before taking your hips, pressing his thumbs against your pelvis, urging you, his head falling back.
“Feel s’good, Toru.” You whine, leaning down now, he’s fucking up into you while you fall apart over him, hair gently falling against his chest, you cup his face, pressing your lips against them, whining into them while he wrecks you utterly, your mind, your body, your heart. “S’all you.”
“S’all you P-Princess.” He whines, so vulnerable then, pulling you in so he can sink deeper in your cunt, stretching you so good while you kiss him over and over, sobbing at how good it feels, him filling you.
“Lemme try.” You pull back, halting his movements, rolling your hips and rising and falling against him, thighs squeezing narrow hips as you work, grinding his tip against your cervix, creamy ring of your cum pooling on the base of his cock.
“That’s it, take my cock, Princess. Fuckin use me.” He urges, his words edging you along with the fullness, so full, too full. But you cannot get enough, rolling your hips and riding him, as he feels your tight walls gripping him like a vise, feels you soaking his length so good he groans out loud, cheeks flushed, pretty skin covered in slick sweat just like yours.
“T-Toru… m’weak.” You whine, he moans now, lifting your hips, your lips are a breath against his as you brace yourself on either side of his head.
“Lemme use you, huh Princess?” You weakly nod, then Satoru uses you utterly, fucking up into your pussy as he holds your hips hostage, suspending them up while his feet are flat on the enormous bed. “That’s it, good girl.”
“Toru!” You cry out when he fucks you into an orgasm, hitting so hard your mouth is wide open, drooling pathetic, he huffs at it, at the slutty O your mouth is in, fucking you so hard you hear the slaps in the room. You feel him ruining your pussy, you know how sore you’ll be, but you want- “More!”
“Want all this cum in you, hmm?” You nod eagerly, Satoru moans now, flipping you on your back, shoving your thighs up and bending you in half. “Beg for it.”
“Oh f-fuck you. Ah!” He pulls out now, smacking his cock on your beat up, sore little cunt, you whine pathetically again. “Please!”
“Should make you swallow it, not fill you at all. Brat.” He shoves back in you though, your body is twitching as he works over you, dripping sweat from his perfect body down all over yours, when he’s pulsing, thickening, you whine weakly.
“Please cum in me. Toru. Please.”
“Need a baby? So greedy?” He demands, and you nod.
“Need a b-baby. Please, p-put it- please!” You’re helpless under him, his heavy weight pressing on you as he fucks all sense out of your brain, leaving you with this primal instinct.
“A baby huh? Fill you up? Gonna get so fucking round with me.” When he brushes a hand on your tummy you begin to cum, pulsing all over him, and he falls apart over you, desperately kissing and crying into your mouth.
Satoru pumps you so full it’s inanity, cum pouring and pulsing, as your cunt milks it all, she wants it as bad as you do. You convulse, cumming from the hot sticky white seed pooling in your pussy, coating all your walls, that continue to spasm as Satoru pumps slower and slower. He lets your legs fall to the sides, kissing you over and over, sloppy as your cunt drooling down on him.
He eases out of you now, watching you pour out, moaning. “Look at her, wasting it all again. Tsk.” Satoru shoves two long fingers in your sore pussy, eyes insane and glowing bright blue, your tears are pouring down your pretty face, making his cock fill with blood again. “Just look at you, crying, huh?”
“Sh-shut up.” You pull him down for a kiss, while he’s pushing his cum back in you, you hear the lewd squishing and clicking, struggling to come to, to take several breaths, consumed by him. “Toru…”
“I know, baby.” He eases finally, sucking both of you off his fingers, moaning as his cheeks hollow. “Taste us together.”
“Please.” He shoves his fingers back in your cunt, then back in your mouth, and your tongue swirls, grabbing his huge hand with your two little ones as you do.
“God I need you again.” Satoru has your lips back in his, turning you onto your tummy, kissing down your spine, nipping your skin, groaning as he sees all the marks on your body, before chuckling deeply.
“What? Y-you’re laughing?” You demand, angrily looking back over your shoulder, he grins so big it melts you.
“Your tiara, still fucking on.” He murmurs, you both laugh then, breathless and shaky, you go to take it off, but he stops you. “Hah, not yet, Princess.”
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We are at the end almost AHHHH- two to four more parts. Thanks for everyone who's stuck with our Duke and Duchess. Reblogs and comments SO appreciated, what are you all thinking of these two and the progressionnn!?!?
Taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @airandyeah @peppertoastuniverse @sw3etnena @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @makingtimemine (tagging the rest in comments!)
Part Fourteen
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derealizationns · 1 month ago
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"am i your wallpaper...?"
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characters - ryomen sukuna x gn reader
synopsis - sukuna starts feeling unknown, scary emotions when he sees your lock screen wallpaper.
genre - fluff
warnings - sukuna might be a bit ooc, bc its so hard for me to write him...😭
from prompt special request (prompt #10) <3
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"get off me, you insolent human." sukuna grumbled the moment that you threw yourself on his lap, whining about your exhausting day.
despite his harsh words, you still stayed in your place on the couch. you knew that man very well, and it wasn’t difficult to notice his smirk (though he tried really hard to hide it). that’s how you ended up with your head on his thighs, playing with the material of his shirt. in the meantime, sukuna was showing the not-so-obvious side of him—he was gently brushing his hand through your hair. even though he shows himself as an intimidating and fearful man, your lover has a soft spot for you. some people that are close with you could even say that you have him “wrapped around your finger," and that wouldn’t be a lie. right now, you’re just relaxing while the pink-haired man scrolls through his phone. he suddenly looks up at you when you start shifting and lift yourself from him.
“where are you going? i did not permit you to leave my side.” he complained, confused by your actions.
you rolled your eyes at his clinginess.
“i’m going to the bathroom; stop acting like you’ll die if i leave your sight, kuna,”you sigh with a smile. he was so cute.
you get up from the sofa and start heading towards the restroom. the moment you were away, sukuna’s smile widened. It was a brief while when he could show that he’s truly pleased by your closeness. suddenly, the king of curses hears something vibrating on the couch. he looks around in search for the source of the noise. that’s when he notices your phone lighting up. he squints his eyes, looking towards the device.
“no, that cannot be right.” your partner mumbles to himself, seeing the picture on your lock screen.
it looked like the one that you took after your last date, when you both were lying in bed. he can swear he’s seeing things, because why would you have this picture there? what was the purpose? sukuna’s chest is full of weird feelings; he’s shure he never felt before. why is he happy? Is that... the thing humans call “excitement”? ... no, that’s wrong. after all, he is the most powerful of all curses; he does not feel those trivial things, right? all of a sudden, he’s thrown out of his thoughts by quiet steps from the bathroom. your lover immediantly switches his attention from your phone to you. as soon as you see sukuna, you can tell that something is bothering him. you already know that he won’t tell you whats wrong, so you decide to bring it up yourself.
“hey, what’s got you so annoyed? you look like you just ate a lemon.” you try to start carefully and a bit playfully, but sukuna does not buy it.
“you, human. what were you thinking when you did that, huh?! i demand an answer.” pink-haired man ordered.
now you were seriously confused. you got him annoyed? but weren’t you just explaining to him that it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, not a whole ass journey across the world? now you’re getting mad.
“the hell you’re talking about idiot?" you bark at him.
sukuna’s mouth opens but closes a second later.
“come on, spit it out already; you got something to say, then go on.” you force him to explain himself. your partner takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing himself for an impact.
“am i your wallpaper...?” he almost whispers.
when you hear him, you almost choke on your saliva. what?! he acts all annoyed and everything because you have him on your lock screen?
“wha-...kuna, is that why you looked so dissatisfied earlier? i mean, i can change it if you want,  but...”
“did I say I want you to change it?” he asks loudly.
now he looks at you like you offended him. this man is truly a confusing one.
“no, but...” you try to continue, but he doesn’t let you.
“so be quiet. can’t listen to your rambling” sukuna cuts you off. you can’t help but start giggling. your man’s face is all red from embarrassment. he—ryomen sukuna, the king of curses—is blushing because his partner has him on their wallpaper. you jump back at the couch beside him, taking his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks. his eyes widen at your action.
“you...how dare you... insolent human, you have the audacity...” he stutters, and you laugh more at him.
“you’re so cute, kuna… so incredibly adorable.” you teased and placed a soft kiss on his lips. when you pulled away, the curse man still had pink cheeks, but additionally a smile on his face.
“i like that picture.” he whispers. 
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
hi, hello, it’s me again! this is my first work from that prompt special request 🤍 i tried really hard to write sukuna as much in-character as i can, but it’s reallt hard for me to do it correctly 🥹 feel free to leave reviews! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
and thank you for reading this ~
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ironunderstands · 9 months ago
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2.1 was so good holy shit (spoilers, obviously)
GOD THEY ATE AND IM SPECIFICALLY GONNA TALK ABOUT HOW WELL THEY WROTE RATIO IN THIS BECAUSE IM FOAMING AT THE GODDAMN MOUTH IT CHANGES HOW YOU VIEW EVERYTHING BUT IN A GOOD WAY.
so, let’s start from the beginning in 2.0 I want to walk you through my experience of it
ratio mean to aventurine, everyone gets mad. I feel weird about it, pre-2.1 I come to the conclusion that he got used as a plot device in that scene, since being racist contradicts his core motivations and the dialogue is awkward and has no real reason behind it, I chalk it up to bad writing but ultimately forgive it because 2.1 seems centered around Aventurine so they need setup for that
2.1 drops, my bsf plays the update throughout the night and we are losing our shit. He gets to the part where Ratio “betrays” Aventurine. I fucking lose it, I try to reconcile this with my preconceived notions of ratio, they don’t match up at all, his behavior that whole time doesn’t in the slightest. I am confused, I wonder if I have been wrong about him this whole time, if his whole speech on the Space Station and his character quests were some kind of fluke. I mean it could be in character? Knowledge of how a stellaron works could save millions if not billions of lives, invaluable information which Ratio would have trouble turning down because of its value. It still feels deeply wrong, Ratio isnt a backstabber, and he wouldn’t so easily bargain with Sunday over information he has no confirmation of (and could likely obtain in some other way).
The story continues, me and Haseeb (aforementioned best friend) are still pissed, I’m losing it because my favorite character just did something so unforgivable and out of character and I feel like a complete and utter idiot for interpreting a character to be a good person when they so clearly weren’t. Well, I (luckily) was so so so so so so so wrong about that, as it was all a setup, a plan devised by Aventurine to distract Sunday and forward their goals. I’ve never been happier, and suddenly every weird behavior, every “this doesn’t make sense” goes from “bad writing” to perhaps one of my favorite retroactive twists in fiction.
Ratio belittling Aventurine for his background doesn’t make any sense, I mean we literally saw the guy give a whole ass speech about how he believes all people deserve access to knowledge and that everyone is capable of being creative and having intellect, but that they just have to try for it, and if they are incapable of it, he DOCTOR Ratio is there to lend a helping hand. To cure the galaxy of stupidity, something which he views as not the lack of knowledge but rather the misuse and misinterpretation of it, how he depises the Genius Society because they mostly do not try and use their intellect from the betterment of other, and actively guide/encourage other scientists (and in Hertas case the researchers at the space station) to view knowledge as some sort of prize or commodity rather than tool. This notion is what causes Screwellum to acknowledge that Ratio is more like a medical doctor than a scholar. And this notion is something Sunday Isn’t Aware Of.
Sunday doesn’t know who Ratio really is, he may have heard of his various exploits, but Ratio has a reputation for arrogance, bluntness and insensitivity, something which Ratio plays up to the nines. The 2.0 scene with Aventurine goes from seemingly massively OOC for Ratio to him actively playing up his negative reputation to play into Sundays perceptions of the pair for their plan. Ratio->
a) makes it seem like Aventurine fucked up and he’s mad at him for losing the cornerstones, something which Sunday would see and go “hmm they don’t like each other
b) this “oh I can drive a wedge between them” notion gets worse (although in their case better) when Ratio brings up Aventurine’s (not entirely accurate) background. Sunday now thinks he has leverage over Aventurine and even more of a chance of getting Ratio to betray him. Ratio also makes it seem like he just learned this information by stating he “did his homework” and this supposed unfamiliarity with one another would give Sunday more confidence to try and drive a wedge between them
c) this makes it seem like the IPC are unaware of the Families constant surveillance, as it looks like they are having an important conversation in a private room, which would make Sunday think they are unaware of his eyes and ears everywhere
Now let me qualify this notion with more evidence because you could still try and argue that the deal Ratio and Aventurine struck was post 2.0 argument
Topaz (my glorious Queen). At the end of the 1.4 (or was it 1.5?) Belabog quest she has a conversation with Aventurine in which he requests for her help in Penacony, and we do not get a confirmation on if she said yes or not. Until 2.1, in which the the Topaz (and Jade) stone in in Aventurines possession, meaning she took him up on that offer prior to 2.0 because how else would he bring multiple cornerstones there, which we know there are many because Ratio says he lost the cornerstones, not just his own. Topaz would not give this item up easily or on a whim in between 2.0 and 2.1, meaning she would have to be let in on his plan prior, meaning the plan was formed prior. Since Ratio was also assigned to this mission keeping him in the dark would make negative sense and actively undermine their collaboration, something which he brings up in their fake argument
2. The Final Victory Lightcone. I originally thought this scene to be after their argument for complicated reasons, the most important of which being the minor snippet of conversation we see between Ratio and Aventurine during the first time we meet Acheron. Aventurine mentions 3 chips, Ratio doubts him, and the lightcone description starts with Aventurine questioning his doubt and firing three shots, a perfect correlation that made me place the order of events in that way. However, we get to see the snippet of conversation between Aventurine and Ratio in game, right before they meet Sunday, not prior to the lightcone events. However, they are still clearly connected for aforementioned reasons, just in a different manner, let me explain. Now we know the three chips reference not bullets but the three cornerstones, and Ratio openly expresses his doubt because the family is always watching (something which I will get into) and because a part of him does doubt this plan will go well. However, Aventurine prior reminds him of the events of the lightcone with the three chips. My interpretation is that Aventurine took that gamble in the lightcone to convince Ratio to go along with his crazy plan since if he can win a game of Russian Roulette with an unwavering smile on his face he an insane gamble means nothing to him (ratio doesn’t buy it because it’s ratio but the sheer audacity or you could say the “charming audacity” makes him go along with it). In my opinion this scene only makes sense pre-penacony, due to the timeline of events, which is why I believe it the reason for the events in it has to be Aventurine trying to convince Ratio to join in.
3) The family is always watching. During the 2.1 story quest it gets brought up several times in many different ways that it seems like the family has eyes on everything and everyone. Sunday’s fuckass bird is everywhere, and the man himself (minus being a goddamn biblically accurate angel) is covered in eye shaped shit and possesses close ties with the Harmony, which lends itself well to a character that knows things considering the Aeon itself is a conglomeration of many different perspectives. He fucking perception checks Aventurine, when the crew goes to look for info on firefly they learn the dream pools monitor people’s vitals and everything, even producing a dialogue option where the trailblazer states they feel like their every move is being watched. Topaz gets stalked by bloodhound members upon arrival, I could go on. TLDR Sunday knows almost everything that’s going on in Penacony, this is what leads him to believe the traitor is within the family, and his access to knowledge is something the IPC 100% knows about. I mean they have been presumably attempting to try and get it back for a while, and they would reasonably extensively try and learn everything about it. The Family notoriously hates negotiating with them so the IPC either learning and/or coming to the conclusion that the Family is watching their every move isn’t a ridiculous notion. If this conversation was genuine, if Ratio truly wanted to discuss this matter with Aventurine, why would he do it in a likely wiretapped, not very soundproof room where any passerby could hear Ratio loudly exclaim that Aventurine lost the very important cornerstones and that he is also one of the most despised groups in the galaxy because that would really do numbers for both their reputations. If you think about it, this not being staged is an incredibly stupid blunder on Ratio’s end (minus the deliberate OOCness) because of all the places Ratio could set up a very important meeting he does it in one of the worst places ever.
4) The dialogue in the scene. It’s awkward, it’s so awkward and the whole “also my family died I didn’t get an education” seemed so tacked on the first time I watched it. Knowing now, it seemed so tacked on because it was, Aventurine had to shove the info in there somewhere and their incredible conversational skills decided that was the best part in there. Ratio fucking leaving before Aventurine is even done talking goes from a “huh weird” to a “wow he is really playing up this arrogant scholar role”. And if Ratio is playing the arrogant scholar, Aventurine is playing the dumb, helpless, blonde to a T. Losing the cornerstones and acting nonchalant about it, letting Ratio insult him so callously and letting the insults slide, talking absolute nonsense at the end about random things that don’t matter, sadly lamenting into the distance that he’s alone again. Bro is playing it up and I live for it. They also and play up these personas in their little adventure prior to meeting Sunday, Aventurine asks stupid questions like wondering about the species of the bird that make up the statues and talking about how he wants to play in the sandpit and even insulting Sunday a bit, behavior that would make Sunday think him unprepared and unserious rather than cold and calculating. If Aventurine does that well, Ratio plays up his arrogant, uncaring scholar persona to the nines. He insults any and every decision or thing Aventurine does, loudly sighing of how happy he is to finally have some peace and quiet when Aventurine leaves his sight for 0.00008 milleseconds, pointing out his sarcasm, beefing with a random Pepeshi bodyguard no reason, pointing out his sarcasm, just the exaggerated way he talks in general, and suggesting he admit Aventurine into the Genius Society (even Ratio wouldn’t stoop so low as to suggest Aventurine was worthy of that).
Moreover, this is really, really tragic because I do think there are several moments of genuine banter and fun the two share “Ratio, you’re huge!” was not added to the script to enhance the plot guys. And obviously Aventurine knows most of Ratios behavior is acting, however he has such severe trust issues, and Ratio is so damn straightforward and blunt that he worries the man was serious about some of it which just breaks my heart. Soft Ratio please add it give me one conversation, the note at the end of 2.1 doesn’t count it’s too short.
Ultimately, knowing what I know now I can’t help but view the 2.0 conversation with Aventurine as being anything but staged, it simply makes no sense otherwise, and it happily obsolescent Ratio of his sins. This was a bit incoherent I honestly just wanted to rant (if you couldn’t tell haha) but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. I need sincere Ratio more then I need oxygen and I’m not afraid to say it.
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yoshikoooo · 6 months ago
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WIND BREAKER HCS|Fem! Reader
Featuring: umemiya hajime, Sakura haruka, kaji ren , jo togame. synopsis: your friend needed help in their butler cafe, and you agreed forced to cooperate. Reader is simply crossdressing. Warnings : Fem! reader, slight ooc, slight suggestive on umemiya and togame's parts, cursing, established relationship, role playing, reader is flirty.
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"Y/n, I beg you!" Shima pleaded desperately, clutching onto your leg with an iron grip, her eyes pleading beneath the butler-style outfit and wig that transformed her into an uncanny likeness of one hell of a butler. "Huh? You expect me to wear those lame ass suits—" watch your mouth girl "It'll only be for a day, I promise. You'll get paid handsomely, and all you have to do is smile at the ladies!" Her grip tightened on your leg, eliciting a frustrated groan from you, annoyance etched across your face. "Damn it, but no pictures nor words can leak," you insisted firmly.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・SAKURA HARUKA °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The cutest tomato in the whole world. come fight me if you disagree
"So why the heck are we buying a damn cake here in a butler café?" Sakura whispered loudly enough for the group to hear, earning a chuckle from the man with tasseled earrings. A reaction of a virgin is honestly amusing right suo?
already tapping his foot anxiously as he noticed that almost the cafe is filled with women. 'fuck fuck fuck fuck-'
This cutie patotie is scared. but wont admit it.
He felt like he just walked on a tigers den.
"Their cakes are the best-selling. Hiragi wanted us to get one since it's Tsubakino-san's birthday," Nirei explained, causing Sakura to click his tongue in mild annoyance. "Why can't we just buy it at a normal cake shop"
suo who is watching their captain's every movement is amused at the situation.
"That doesn't make sense; they're just wearing some fancy suits," Sakura remarked, unimpressed.
He had some thoughts that what if you were one of the customers here
'.....'
and that created some kind of fog on his lungs and suddenly he felt his head clouded.
it was clear that he kind of not wanted that.
He would be jealous
especially when his eyes landed on a particular butler. The suit was perfectly tailored, fitting the butler like a glove. As the butler helped a lady who had stumbled, a chorus of delighted squeals erupted from nearby women, clearly enamored by his looks and chivalry.
"Wait, that butler looks familiar," Suo echoed Sakura's thoughts as he observed the butler assisting the lady. "H-huh, Y/n-san...?" Nirei suddenly exclaimed as the realization dawned on him. 'huh' Sakura watched you smile sweetly at the ladies. "W-What is that idiot doing here—" "Oh, Y/n-san looks good in a suit. I didn't know she had that kind of hobby," Suo remarked, watching their leader turn red as he looked at you, handsomely serving. 'Surprisingly it suited you' "Eh, did Y/n-san not tell you?" Suo questioned, glancing at Sakura, who shook his head. "No..." Just then, you took an order from the counter. "Y/n, that's a takeout for the Furin boys over there," one of the chefs informed you, making you freeze on the spot. "F-Furin?" you stuttered, slowly looking at the group already watching you. "Damn it," you muttered, deciding to remain professional and maintain the butler façade as you approached their table. "Young masters, your le fraisier cake is served for takeout. Please enjoy," you said, flashing them the same charming smile you usually reserved for the ladies. "O-Oh, thanks, Y/n-san!" Nirei stammered, causing your brow to twitch. 'Fuck, they know.' "You look so handsome, Y/n-san," Suo added, smiling beside Nirei. 'Was that really a compliment?' Then you looked at the half-haired boy, seeing him averting his gaze. "No compliment from you, young master?" you asked, smirking at your boyfriend, who was as red as a tomato. with a big huff, He quickly stood up and made his way to the door, the other two following suit, prompting you to follow them as well. "I shall await your return, young masters," you said, your voice smooth and confident. With a swift, practiced motion, you took Sakura's hand and placed a light kiss on it, earning a startled shriek from him. Your mischievous eyes met his, watching him tremble and turn an even deeper shade of red. 'Just how red can you get?' "Y-You idiot!"
✩°。⋆⸜ 🎧✮KAJI REN ✩°。⋆⸜ 🎧✮
Won't notice that it was you at first cause this man won't stare at a random dude in the eyes.
Why would he make his way out for just a random dude wearing a cringey cosplay?
Excuse me, that is your girl over there
you didn't inform him about the butler cafe. Cause why? It was embarrassing. uwu
You can't handle any more degradation.
You were honestly fighting demons when you agreed to buy something on the store with this stuffy, uncomfy, cringey outfit.
you prayed to be invisible for a day. The humiliation is eating you inside out, and if your boy found you wearing that, urgh Go bury yourself in some hole.
This boy is a judger. Basically would eye you up and down and his eyebrow would twitch.
He won't be honest with you, he did not want to admit that you honestly looked handsome. Tsundere things...
irritated by the fact that you were an inch taller than him now. What kind of fucking miracle of a shoes did they give you?! He had some urge to burn those shoes away.
The chefs at the café asked you to buy cream from the store, noting how busy the place was with so many customers. On your way back, you got caught up in a fight. Just as you were about to fall, a large hand grabbed your shoulder a bit roughly, steadying you. The familiar scent of sweet vanilla reached your senses. He quickly stood you upright, not daring to look at you directly. Why would he even look at a man? Before you knew it, the fight ended, and the blonde was about to scold you for just walking into a fight. "Hey, what were you doing—" he started, but stopped midway when he realized it was you. "H-Hey—" "What the heck are you wearing?" he asked, his eyes scrutinizing your outfit. "Haha, ain't I handsome?" you said with a grin, flashing him the signature smile that made the ladies at the café squeal. "Have you gone crazy?" he remarked harshly, as expected, making you chuckle awkwardly. "Now now, I'm just helping a friend," you explained, and the blonde in front of you nodded lazily. 'A friend, huh?' "Oops, I still need to give them the cream," you said, glancing at Kaji, who seemed to be watching your every move. He remained silent, appearing somewhat out of it. 'You're going back there in that outift...? seriously?' "Young master, will you give this lowly servant a kiss before I go?" you teased theatrically, causing his eyes to widen and his face to flush a deep red as he tried to hide his embarrassment. You smirked at his reaction, taking the opportunity to grasp his hand and gently remove the lollipop from his mouth, replacing it with a soft peck on the lips. "H-Huh?!" "Sweet," you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, watching him remain still and red as you placed the lollipop back in his mouth. He looked like he is about to explode. "Just you wait until we get home," he threatened, though his flustered state made it less intimidating. "Oops," you thought, quickly turning and running back to the café as fast as possible.
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・UMEMIYA HAJIME・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
A big ball of sunshine here.
Hajime was shocked when he just saw a random dude wearing a fancy suit walking by.
"What a fancy guy" he remarked as he continued eyeing the guy.
but looking up close, His smile widened.
He honestly loved how you look so good in that butler outfit.
But why didn't you told him at least? This big boy's kokoro is hurt urgh. and yeah, you forgot to tell him since you were busy contemplating your life decision.
He might ask you to cross dress again. oh god no.
But then again you'd already lost your dignity the moment you agreed to this, so what was there to lose now? still no.
looking at you again, ah- How badly he wanted to just keep you to himself.
Doesn't mind the PDA that much so when he approached you, he quickly locked his arms on your waist.
Remember, there are furin boys all over the town-
"Eh, I-Is that Hajime-senpai—" one of the Furin-coated boys stammered, eyes widening as they saw their strong captain kissing a... man? A butler, specifically? "Shit, should we tell Y/n-san?" "I-I'm not sure." "But how do we tell her?" Click "I'll keep a picture in case she doesn't believe me." "Wait, let's just pretend we didn't see anything." Meanwhile, you glared at the white-haired man in front of you. Your eyebrows twitched in annoyance. How the hell are you not even taller than your man despite wearing these huge ass heels? You still looked small standing next to him, frustratingly unable to match his height, unlike how you towered over some of the ladies. "Hajime, I still need to go back," you said, trying to remove the strong arms of the man in front of you. "Hmmm... I want a hug from my butler," he cooed, nestling his head against your neck. "No, we're outside, Hajime," you whispered, but he simply hummed in response. "You're too handsome, I'm getting jealous," you heard him pout against your neck, making you sigh in disbelief. "I'm wearing makeup."
"Still." You cupped his cheeks, and he finally stopped nestling into your neck, making you smile softly. "My dearest lord, may you permit this lowly servant of yours to return to tending his duties?" you said, slipping back into your butler persona. You took his hand and placed it gently on your cheek. "Such a devoted servant," he replied with a grin, finally releasing you but not before planting another kiss on your forehead. "Don't make me wait too long." You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "I won't. Now behave while I'm gone."
____ A day passed, and the usual buzz of activity surrounded you. Some of the Furin boys approached you, their curiosity evident. "Y/n-san, are you alright with our captain?" one of them asked, a hint of concern in his voice. You shrugged it off with a smile. "It's the same as usual," you replied casually. But then, one of them pulled out his phone and showed you a picture. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw the image of you and Hajime kissing while you were in your butler outfit. You forced an awkward smile, your mind racing. 'I-I can't say I'm the one he's kissing right...?'
⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆TOGAME JO⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
This sly dog. Although I don't mind, arf arf.
He was drinking ramune when a handsome dude passed him by.
"Cosplay....?" he mused slowly, noticing the man's attire wasn't just an ordinary suit. His gaze followed the man, who had paused because a cat was blocking his path.
How heart warming it is to see a guy wearing a fancy suit to stop infront of the cat just to pet it. I mean who can't resist the furballs?
He had thoughts on how the hell did the guy handle the heat despite wearing such layers?
Cause if he was wearing one, He's sure He'd rip it hours ago.
and when he caught a glimpse of the face- 'Huh?'
He did kind of contemplate if that was really you. I mean you looked more... handsome?
His smirk widened as he confirmed it was you by the distinctive placement of your moles.
Slowly and unnoticed, he walked up to you. Just as you stood to return to the café, you were suddenly pinned against a nearby wall.
you shriek as you slowly opened your eyes to see the perpetrator.
"Hey, prince charming," the deep voice of Togame made you flinch and look directly into his eyes. His glasses slightly hid his amused gaze.
"Jo! Are you really serious?" you said in disbelief, sighing in relief that it wasn't one of the creepy dudes.
He brushed off your comment, continuing to eye you with a playful intensity.
"Looking hot, ain't ya?" he smirked as you shrank under his gaze, still pinned against the wall.
"You think so too?" you smiled sheepishly, the corners of your mouth lifting as the man before you giggled.
"I can't believe I've been dating a man this whole time," he joked, his voice mockingly disheartened.
You chuckled softly, reaching up to grab his chin.
"Young lord, would a kiss suffice as an apology?"
Your eyes glistened with mischief, catching him off guard with your sudden change of attitude. Who knew you had this cheeky side too?
You sure do like testing his limits as he leaned in closer to you.
"I don't think a kiss would... suffice," he said slowly, his breath warm against your skin.
Your heart raced as you felt the heat of his body pressing closer.
He leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours, teasing and testing your resolve.
"I think you'll need to do a lot more than that to make it up to me,"
With a sudden, bold move, you closed the gap between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both soft and demanding. The intensity of the moment made your heart race, but you pulled away before things could escalate further.
"My break is about to end," you said, noting the disappointment in his eyes despite the lingering smile on his lips.
"Eh... ditch it," he replied casually. You pecked his lips again, and with a swift movement, you slipped past his hold.
A cheeky smile escaped your lips as you glanced back.
"no can do,"
He watched your figure fade into the distance, a mixture of amusement and something darker in his gaze.
"right...I'll see you later anyway,"
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mcuntainbcrn · 8 months ago
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Starter Call!
Like this post for a starter of varying length - multis, please specify ^^
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selfishdoll · 1 year ago
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NURSE! KENJAKU ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 you wouldn’t want the whole hospital to hear what a slut you are, now would you?
CONTENT WARNING ── 𖦷 short ass drabble | porn no plot | ooc kenjaku | fem! kenjaku | mean dom! kenjaku | pussy slapping | this is just kenjaku toying with reader’s body. all consensual though, i don’t write that kinda stuff.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ── 𖦷 i was literally in the middle of mulling over my eren fic when nurse kenjaku fanart was posted in the gc. so thanks guys <33 the fact is i don’t even like kenjaku fr, but uh.. nurse him is hot asf i can’t deny. trust nurse kenjaku (and only nurse kenjaku) will be written for again. also jjk spoilers ig?? and as always this unedited so please excuse typos
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Your fingers gripped the sheets underneath you, legs spread open whilst heavy pants escaped you. The gloved hand moved diligently in and out of you, thumb caressing your swollen little bud all while an arm was strewn across your shoulders— gripping one.
Your legs began to close as your orgasm approached, gasping the moment the fingers were removed to instead land an open-palm hit to your messy cunt. “F—fuck!” You cried out, arousal leaking and dripping underneath you.
“I gave you two instructions.” Her honeyed tone was delivered right in your ear, lips glossed with red threatening to taint the shell of it. “To stay quiet and keep your legs open.. I’m so disappointed, you couldn’t do either.”
“I—I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You whined out, head slacking the moment the beautiful nurse slapped your pussy again— your clit swelling from the attention.
Her arm slid from around your shoulders to collect your chin, lifting your face to glance at you. Her dark eyes took in your features disgust and amusement revolving in her eyes whilst her lip quirked just a bit.
“Such a disgusting thing.. making such a mess on this clean hospital bed.” Her thumb pushed between your lips before you could even think of apologizing, pressing against your tongue to watch you whine. The nurse leaned closer whilst her wet, gloved hand caressed the inside of your thigh. “I’ll give you one last chance..” She whispered, breath fanning across your face as her hand hovered above your wet slit; delicately spreading your folds.
“You won’t disappoint me again, right? You’ll be a good slut for me and keep your legs open and your mouth shut?” Her thumb slipped from your lips in a soft pop, eyebrows lifting in search of a response.
Like some idiotic bobble head your head was shaking faster than it should have, legs widening as you bit the bottom of your lip.
The nurse grinned at you, thumb moving back to your abused clit;
“Good. Good girl.”
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REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3
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workingbynyx · 1 year ago
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heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee
(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)
Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader
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↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗
↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗
↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗
↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗
↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗
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"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.
what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.
but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.
"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.
you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?
jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.
"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"
the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.
he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.
"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.
"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.
its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.
it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?
while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.
you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?
"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.
"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.
jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.
a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.
"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"
"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.
"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"
"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.
jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.
a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.
but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.
you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"
"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.
you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said
"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"
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tevantarlos · 1 month ago
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Unpopular Opinion 911 - et all
I'm a bisexual woman and I've known that I'm bisexual since I was 11 years old. I legitimately am attracted to both men and women.
I've been watching 911 since 2 months after season 1 ended in 2018. I got into the show for Bathena and have loved them ever since.
I keep seeing people complaining on the official show pages about how Athena abuses her authority as a cop, and while they're not wrong, they're also blowing things way out of proportion. I'm pretty sure the people saying that have never watched the NBC show Chicago PD, because if you compare what Athena's done, to what Voight on Chicago PD has done, you'd know that the stuff she's done has been pretty tame.
On Chicago PD:
1. Voight has locked people up in a cage and literally tortured them for information.
2. He has killed people for revenge. He killed the guy who killed his son, Justin. He killed the guy or people who killed Al. There are probably even more occurrences than that, but these are the one's that mainly come to mind for me.
3. He literally threatened Matt Casey, Hallie Thomas, and Gabby Dawson, when his dumbass son, Justin, was on drugs and caused an accident which paralyzed someone, because they could report Justin to other police who would've actually locked Justin's stupid ass up. I get that Voight was trying to protect his kid, but that doesn't make this shit okay. Also, it's weird as hell that Antonio worked with Voight for 6 years. How the hell did Antonio not kill Voight for threatening his sister's life? That's garbage.
4. He literally stole money and drugs from criminals.
5. He has threatened his detective's lives on more than one occasion, and not in some way to make sure they are more careful and protect themselves, but as a legit threat.
Returning to my 911 thoughts.
Oliver Stark has claimed that he's been playing Buck as bisexual the entire time. No, he has not. He just wants the clicks and attention from pretending that this has been happening all along. Buck has had no interest in men until season 7 and the BuckTommy storyline happened.
The episode of Lone Star that's the crossover, doesn't prove Buck is bi. He wasn't flirting with TK, it was a misunderstanding on TK's part. Buck is literally confused when TK says that he's with someone, as he wasn't flirting with TK, he was only inviting TK to come to LA as a friend to hang out.
Buck says on the show that he's checked out hot guy's asses before. He hasn't done that in canon. It's one of many things that they claim is canon, but isn't because it happened off screen. He has literally been obsessed with women from the first time we see him, until Tommy returns in season 7.
Buck can't even say that he's bisexual on the show. He hasn't done any research, when he used to research everything. He hasn't spoken to people like Hen, Karen, or even Josh in depth about his feelings for men. There was one scene, right before the relationship ended, where he talked to Josh, which didn't even amount to anything and was just a waste of time since they made Tommy OOC and broke up with Buck. Hell, he (Buck) didn't even know after 6 months that Tommy was gay and not any other identity.
All this to say, 911, TM, OS, they don't genuinely give a shit about Buck, his supposed bisexuality, Tommy, or even the other main characters on the show. From one episode to the next, they have them say one thing and then retcon it right after.
The whole Buck is bi thing was a hoax. They just wanted to attract the gay and bisexual crowd back to the show since Henren and Josh haven't been getting that much screentime, and Buck and OS are like the golden child of the show. People think he's an idiot, but that he's a sweet idiot, who can do no wrong.
As I stated above, I started watching 911 before season 2 even aired. I don't like the way the show is handling their characters and storylines and I'm finally getting tired of the shitty writing. I love Bathena, I love Henren, I love Madney, I loved BuckTommy. However, if Tommy is thrown aside like yesterday's trash and Buck moves on, only to fuck a bunch of women and/or men with the excuse of exploring his sexuality, I will be checking out and dropping the show.
I like Buck's character, but he's not the reason I watch the show. He's also not enough to keep me watching. Henren are constantly being threatened to have their kids taken away. Bathena is constantly put in crazy life or death situations that end in some super unrealistic way: Kid landing a plane, remember? Madney don't have anything interesting going on. Literally, all they have going on, is that they're having another kid. Eddie has spent years obsessed with his dead wife, Josh hasn't had much of a plot in years, since the only boyfriend he's had on the show was some homophobic jackass who lied and said he was gay, so that he could beat Josh up.
May is gone, Harry is gone, Sue is gone, Carla is gone, Chris is gone. All the side characters that helped make the show a little interesting, is gone. The found family dynamic is lacking or entirely absent this season. Also, making the point to show Tommy sad and longing for a family, only for him to end up sad and alone, doesn't make me want to keep watching this show.
I think I'm finished bitching for now. I know that my thoughts are all over the place, but I've kept my mouth shut on how I feel about OS and Buck's bisexuality, this whole time, but now I'm finally going to fully speak up.
As always, I know many or even most people aren't going to agree with me and that's fine. This is just my feelings and opinion on the show.
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poisonedprose · 1 year ago
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hii i saw that thing about you guys being ashamed about thinking of leon using a knife on you and then you said “i am even more ashamed to admit how many times ive almost written this”
please you literally need to write something like oh my god the way you write stuff is amazing and im sure that if you did write something like that it would be so good and sheet grabbing even if it’s something short 𖦹☆
₊˚✧ slice — in which leon fucks you with his knife after work
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leon kennedy x afab!reader
warnings: 1k words, smut, @spideychai i know you dont read much smut but it only felt right to tag you, inspired by this post, pet names (princess, love, good girl, slut), curse words, pwp, kinda ooc, bit of sadism, bit of dacryphilia, bondage, leons a tiny but drunk, (bloody) knife obvi, mentions of killing, sir kink
masterlists
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Leon had a habit of taking his pent up anger and stress out on you. He would fuck you dumb with his fingers until you were sobbing and begging for his cock to fill you up. He loved the way you bucked your hips with your wrists tied to the bedpost, just aching to feel his hard cock throb against the walls of your dripping cunt. He loved when your mind went all hazy when he shoved his whole length in your cunt without warning, chuckling sadistically at the way you almost came the second you felt his thick cock.
This time was different though. He came home from work angrier than you've ever seen him. He didn't even greet you as he walked past you, just heading straight to the fridge and pulling out an ice cold beer. He practically chugged the bottle, leaving the empty, save for a few drops, bottle on the counter before finally acknowledging you. "Bedroom. Now." He ordered and you'd be an idiot not to comply. 
He grabbed another beer before following you into the bedroom, watching your ass as you walked. You sat on the bed without having to be told, he sipped on his beer as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. The smirk on your face told you, you wouldn’t be getting off easy tonight. He stood in front of you as you sat on the bed. 
He looked down on you, his gaze was almost condescending but, fuck, his lustful eyes were too gorgeous to ignore. His gloved hand caressed your cheek, sliding down your face to hold your chin, his bottle of beer still in his other hand. He takes a sip, his gaze immediately falls back on you after he does. "You know the drill." He instructs in a raspy voice, lust mixed with alcohol was always a sexy combination for him, especially when he didn't change out of his work uniform or remove any of his gear.
You began to undress per his orders. Your clothes fall into a nice pile on the floor. You lay back on the bed, goosebumps forming on your bare skin and your nipples hardening. He gets on the bed as well, putting his beer on the nightstand. He sat on his knees as he hovered above you, one of his knees between your legs, dangerously close to your cunt. He brushes some of your hair out of your face as he lightly drags his fingers over your clit.
His fingers were slow as they caress your puffy clit. Quiet moans left your sultry lips. You waited for the moment he plunged his thick digits into your glistening hole but he never did. There was a devilish smirk on Leon's face, he was plotting something. He pulls his fingers away from your clit, dragging them up your body, leaving a trail of your slick up your body. His fingers land at your mouth, silently, he instructs you to suck. His knee replaces his fingers, pushing up into you to keep you wet for him.
You swirl your tongue around his fingers wishing it was his cock. He smiles at your obedience, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and giving you a praiseful kiss on your cheek. He was eerily quiet but the mystery was what excited you the most. He reaches to his chest, grabbing his knife out of its holster. The blade of the knife was covered in blood. Something about seeing Leon holding his knife that was probably used to kill countless enemies, even still being covered in blood, excited you and terrified you at the same time.
He wipes the blade on his dark blue shirt, the staining not very noticeable. "Open your legs, princess." His voice was softer than it was before, basically telling you there was still time to back out. You opened your legs wider with no hesitation, enjoying the switch up of the normal routine. He leans over and spits on your cunt, rubbing the liquid all over your pussy for more lubrication. 
You gasp when you feel the cold handle of his knife run between your folds. You grip the sheets between your fingers as he teases your entrance. Your hips buck and he's quick to hold your hips down with his other hand. "Leon..." You whine breathlessly to which his smirk widens. "Yes, my love? Is something wrong?" He asks cockily as he continues to tease you.
You whine again, knowing he was deliberately fucking with you but the new, foreign feeling felt too good to risk, so you just stayed quiet. "Yeah, gonna be quiet like a good girl?" He leans over and whispers in your ear, followed by kissing your neck. You nod, keeping quiet beside your moans as he finally stops teasing you and slides the handle of the knife into your soaked cunt. 
He leans back and watches your face contort in pleasure and your back arch as you shove your head into the pillow beneath you. "Oh, fuck," He chuckles lowly, his laugh full of breath. "Look at you." He praises, watching with an amused smile. "This feel good, slut? Hm?" You nod incoherently as you push yourself deeper into his knife. "Yeah, bet it does." His free hand rubs over your abdomen before his thumb starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. 
"Bet my cock would feel even better? Wouldn't it, love?" He smirks and for a split second, you actually believe he might not tease you all night as you approach your orgasm. "Yes, yes, yes!" You moan like a pornstar, embarrassingly close to your release. "That's too bad." He chuckles quietly as he stops all pleasure, removing his thumb from your clit and pulling the knife away from you. 
You whine, disappointed that he was denying your orgasm. "Be a good girl and I'll go easy on you." He promises in a sinful tone as he drags the blade of the knife across your boobs. "Got it?" He asks, still fiddling with the knife that’s being dragged all over your body. "G-Got it, sir."
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ronearoundblindly · 2 years ago
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The Root Of All Ransom (Finale)
Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see previous or series)
Summary: Ransom figures out how to undo his disinheritance.
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Warnings for language (I'm never kidding about how many f-bombs this boy drops), smut (blowjob, p in v sex that is consensually unprotected, general smuttery), vague contemplations of murder but we ain't going the canon route. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist. This is not your story!
I have somehow managed to put Ransom Drysdale deep in his feels. This is only OOC if you haven't read up to this point, but we do end on a soft!Ransom note. WC 6954 (oh my fucking wat???)
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Ransom huffs out a foggy breath in the night air, cold in more ways than one. All the windows glow from the mansion, yet it looks completely different in light of what Harlan’s done.
Thrombey Manor is his birthright. He doesn’t love the architecture or the eccentric layout. He hates the furniture. He’s never really enjoyed anything about the place. It’s the polar opposite of his own house, but it was his in a way, part of his status, part of his baseline of existence. He’s not prepared for any other eventuality. Ransom built his life on a perfectly stable bridge that some idiot just blew up with C4.
No, no, not some idiot. His own family. The only member of his family he would think could never do this to him. Fuck Harlan.
Ran’s been flying high on a lie, and the magic money carpet’s been ripped away.
He has one lifeline, one option he’s grasping onto.
If he can manage this, nothing will change. He won’t lose the allowance. He won’t lose you. You’ll never know how unworthy he is. He can just have everything and never speak of this again.
Harlan. Marta. Inheritance. Killing two birds with one liquid stone.
Ran could do it. He will do it, but you cannot know. He can’t have you around. He has to push, to start giving you a safe distance, to leave you plausible deniability. If you suspect, you’ll leave him anyway. 
If he succeeds, worst case? He’s rich and alone. If he does nothing? He’ll be poor and alone.
One of those scenarios used to be acceptable, but not now, not anymore.
Pushing you away tonight might be the last time you ever look at him without pity, and he’s not ready for how heavy that sits in his roiling gut. He has to though. He has to make you leave, if only for the rest of the night—but it might be forever, his brain reminds him. Fucker. It’s not like Ran’s pleasant to be around. Getting away from him shouldn’t be a hard sell.
When you emerge from the house, however, what he hoped would sound sharp and dismissive sounds oddly open-ended.
“You could just walk from here,” he tries wishfully.
True to form, beautiful, pissed-off you sidesteps his expectations.
You take his coat, your coat, and the Birkin to the passenger’s side with a ferocious look.
“Get in the car,” you manage through tight lips.
Fuck. He misses you already. He hasn’t given up. He won’t, but his center of gravity is gone. He’s reeling from this.
Hugh Ransom Drysdale revolves around money.
His whole life he has stretched wide and greedy limbs to capture numbered, green rays of meaning. He hasn’t only lost the light of his sun now. No. Nuclear winter has just stripped him bare and knocked him on his ass. Ran cannot articulate all the reasons he’s so upset.
He values you and him together for relatively selfish reasons. From all he’s seen, you don’t need any more people in your life that exist so far below you. You don’t need ‘help.’ You need an equal, a free and independent equal. Ran isn’t even fucking close anymore.
With a stroke of a pen, he’s now dependent. It’s pathetic. If he stays without even the means to be your not-quite-equal, then he’s everything he hates. He’ll be clingy. He’ll be needy. He’ll be in the way. He’ll finally do it; he will annoy you.
He will bore you.
What a fucking world.
You snap him out of his dashboard stare.
“Do you want to talk about it now or at home?”
“Neither,” he quips easily. “I’ll drop you at the Carlyle’s.”
His eye twitches at his faux pas. You don’t have to correct him. He knows it’s your place, your name, your property, and your right to claim. He doesn’t need reminding.
His key twists in the ignition just as your hand comes up to his shoulder.
He can’t even glare at you properly because a tap rings off his window pane. Both of you jump in alarm because night fell hours ago. Who sneaks up on a car in the fucking dark?
Ran’s father is fucking who. Of course. The window peels down, and Ransom feels as if the last seconds of his life are draining away after the plug’s been pulled.
“Trouble in paradise, you two?” Dick asks with cheeky concern.
“No, Mister Drysdale,” you say politely, no hint of insincerity in your smile.
“Richard, please, honey. You’re practically family.”
Smug asshole, do NOT call her ‘honey.’
“Eat shit,” Ransom mutters overly loud again, but your sudden slow grip on his kneecap tells him to behave. Ol’ Dick has no right to call you ‘honey’ though. Ran’s not even sure what he’s allowed to call you, and he’s pissed, sure. He’s…something else, too; he’s obedient beneath your hand.
Richard ignores Ran’s attitude. “Listen, son, I just wanted you to know that whatever happens, your mother and I will always love you. In case…ya know, in case you ever doubted, and…well, we’re family. We stick together.” He even gives Ran a squeeze on the shoulder for emphasis.
Ransom has no fucking clue what his father intends with that entirely useless statement but doesn’t fucking care. “You know what?” He’s about to lunge out the window to choke that fucking prick. “Definitely eat shit.”
Your grip tightens, and Ran’s insides clench, knowing he toes a line.
“We should really go,” you add with a now painful, strained civility.
“Okay, you crazy kids,” Richard pats his heavy hand on the door frame. “Thanks for coming to the party and we’ll see you soon, yeah?”
“Of course, Richard.”
Ransom rolls the window back up without looking at you. That sure as shit was not his father’s reaction to Harlan throwing millions at Marta fucking Candelabra. He can’t be near these people anymore, so Ran slams his foot on the gas, peeling out of the driveway, and scattering gravel in his wake.
Your sigh releases with the pressure on his knee. “I suspect it’s about his affair.”
As if that narrows it down. “Which one?”
“The first one as far as your grandpa knows,” you snort, “which hopefully Linda buys too from the way you’ve talked about it. Jesus, really? Slow down!”
Ran doesn’t want to slow down. The car is finally catching up to his racing thoughts and a plan coalescing. If Harlan knows about Richard’s affair, then his mother will absolutely divorce him, leaving Dick with nothing—and if you know that Harlan knows about it then—
“Hugh—” the hand has slid from his knee to his crotch, the heel of your palm gently digging into the stiff fabric of his jeans “—we should have taken care of you before…”
Fuck, that feels good.
You’re right, of course. Ran really should have planned a few minutes of privacy for you both to get off after the airport. Not that it’d have to be private for him (parking lot, terminal, or tarmac—he wouldn’t fucking care), but the thought flashes in his mind like the bright spots behind his eyelids that he might not get to fuck you again. That’s profoundly upsetting, and your grip on the outline of his swelling cock is profoundly distracting.
He swats at your arm, blood rushing to his tension-white knuckles only for a second, but you simply swivel in the seat to change hands, dragging down his zipper.
“Sweetheart“ slips out. Is he allowed to say that anymore? He should still act normal, right? Except he’s been a raging mess for a quarter-hour already and oh fuck. “What are you…”
Ran’s been wrong this whole time: you are a road head bitch.
He’s so taken aback by your spit-slicked lips cooly brushing the head of him that he nearly elbows your spine. The car swerves slightly as he strains to collect himself, to think of just one other thing instead of your fucking tongue sliding down his length to tease at his still-covered balls and—
Mother of fucking mercy, he has to pull over.
Only by some miracle, some blessed (or horrible) gap in his distraction, is he able to consciously choose parking off the lane just beyond the menagerie elephant statue because, otherwise, that pervy-ass groundskeeper could relive his long-forgotten past of grainy porn. Because that’s what this is turning into. Pornographic is the only way to describe the choked grunt Ran finally lets out as he slams on the brake and you snap the car into park just to get the gear shift out of your way.
“I’m only here three days,” you say around a mouthful of cock, bobbing a few more times before switching to your hand. “I’m not letting you ruin it by being fucking baby.”
“I’m not—fuck—“ he’s not expecting you to climb over him in the cramped car “—you don’t understand.”
“So you don’t want me right now?”
He shakes his head furiously, half in hope of collecting genuine thought, half in desperation for you to continue.
Space is so limited between Ran’s body and the steering column that your bent knees pin his arms to the door and the console. It should hurt but fuck if he’s gonna say anything while he watches you peel your panties to the side and line yourself up. 
“Gah, you just—“ he pants as his heart rate spikes. Instead of putting him in you, Ran’s paralyzed to stop two of your fingers from sinking into your soaked pussy. You’re drooling for him, mouth and cunt, and goddamn, he is so torn between pounding you into next week or tossing you out of the car to get on with his plan.
It’s about an 80/20 split in favor of fucking you.
And then he thinks…yeah, he could definitely get off and get you to the Carlyle’s—your place—in time to sneak back. So he just lets go, shoving his face forward to capture your lips, enjoying the wet sounds as you prep for him, and eating up your moans and curses. He knows you’re purposefully dragging your knuckles against his dick as you bring them out with each stroke. Why are you so fucking hot? Why can’t he just have this without Harlan’s help? 
He’s dependent.
Ran realizes he always was, but he fucking hates it.
Removing your fingers makes the bunched-up dress pool over your hips and graze his raging erection. Great, now your spit and his precum are smeared all over your clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him. Normally, that would be even hotter. Now, Ran wonders how much that damn thing costs because he never even looked; he just knew it suited you.
A steady grip at his base and suddenly Ran can’t wonder about any fucking thing under the sun. Your walls welcome him inch by inch like he’s goddamn worthy of that silky squeeze, but he can’t say shit. All he can manage is craning his neck forward to mouth over your nearest breast, arms still pinned. Fuck it. More fluids on the dress. If you don’t care, he doesn’t care. Maybe. Maybe he’ll just care later. Maybe he’ll learn to look at the cost of things. Maybe he won’t have to when he succeeds at fixing this dumpster fire of a situation.
His teeth graze against a barely felt but hard-peaked nipple, and you gasp out another moan. You have to shift to wedge your leg down by his side and repeat with the other one. One of his forearms is tingling, asleep, so he switches his mouth around and uses the functioning arm to play.
You’re moving so slow, too slow.
“You fucking love to mess with me,” Ran growls, all but biting through the layers before yanking at the neckline, savoring the plush skin he exposes. “Love fucking me,” he mutters again.
“Yeah, baby, why do you think that is?” You use the name so condescendingly and roll your hips so deliberately that Ransom bites back a ‘fuck you,’ instead forcing out a strangled whine. You just drag yourself up and down until he answers, pushing his t-shirt and an errant tail of his cardigan out of the way. Your fingers gently scratch the flat plain of his abs.
“Say it.”
He knows the answer. He’s known for a while, but that’s not something Ran’s ever gonna be ready for. It’s just already the truth.
It’s as soft as a hum against your skin.
“Say it, Hugh. Tell me why.”
He can tell by how you’re getting sloppier with your movement, by how hard you grind forward against him, that you’re close.
“Because you love me.” Ran winces at how desperate he sounds. It’s almost a cry, but he can’t really resist repeating it. “You love me.”
Your hands bury in his hair, and he’s literally covered in you while trapped in this fucking steam room of a car. He can’t control anything he’s doing.
“You love me,” he says again.
“Yes.”
“You love me.”
“Fuck, yes, baby.”
You’re fluttering around his cock like a dream, shouting encouragement, and it just slips out.
“I love you.”
He has no idea if you even hear him because you come so hard that your back bends, slamming you against the steering wheel.
The horn blares in the quiet woods.
You wait for him to yank you forward and erupt into sated giggles while Ran is a whole different kind of paralyzed, hiding his face in your chest for as long as you’re simmering without care.
Your fingers card through sweaty hair, your heartbeat slowing more than his does.
“Think you need this,” you say in a breathy whisper. You pull away to cradle his face.
He’s terrified you’re gonna ask. You’re gonna want him to say it again, he thinks, and Ran’s not sure he can with your eyes boring into his, knowing what he knows, being what he is until the will is void.
“I want you to come, Hugh.” Your thumb traces across his bottom lip, gaze following before it flickers back up.
You sound so fucking innocent while your slick is smeared all over his low belly and seeping through his underwear. His boxers are kinda in the way but kinda immovable while in such cramped quarters. Pushed aside, they hinder only as much as your bunched-up panties do. Easy enough to live with.
You keep staring expectantly.
“Do you want me to stop—“ fuck NO “—or will you give me what I want?”
Ran’s whole chest clenches, and it’s only because he slams his mouth to yours that you can’t see his eyes roll in fucking ecstasy. Perfect. You’re goddamn perfect. He couldn’t deny you anything much less this, and he knows that if this is the last time, he has to take advantage.
Sliding down slightly on the seat (because everything operates in centimeters at most this close), he takes two giant handfuls of your ass and spreads you, lifting so he can thrust his hips up at a brutal pace. He doesn’t fucking care if his knees bang against unyielding metal. He doesn’t care that a vein in his neck might snap from strain. He just needs this one thing, and then he’ll let it go. He’ll be ready for whatever outcome Harlan’s death triggers.
Because Ransom needs money. He had money long before he had you. It’s what he needs the most in life. He loves money.
If losing you is what it takes to keep the money…
That’s the thought he can’t finish as control of the urge to come slips from his bruising fingers. His desire for his status quo is faltering. His equilibrium’s changed.
He does love money. He does.
Now, to Ran's surprise, he loves you, and he has no fucking clue how to love both. He doesn’t know if he can keep both.
But friction is friction. He’s surrounded by the feel and sound and smell of sex. It’s familiar and more than a little haunting to him if this is the last time, but Ran crests that mountain before any coherent thoughts form. He can’t trust himself to speak. He might repeat what he never should have said aloud.
The groan when he empties himself inside you is almost pained, swallowed immediately by your adoring and hungry kiss. He’s sweat straight through his t-shirt and his jeans are a fucking mess. Your dress is damp, stained, and wrinkled. You’re practically bonded to the leather seat, but he just absently runs the back of his fingers up and down your thighs while he comes down.
When you release his mouth, your arms settle across his shoulders, and he buries his face in your chest again, hiding, relishing, stalling.
Shit, he’s gonna miss this.
After a minute, you rest your forehead against his and lift your hips until his limp dick slides out of you. Through half-closed eyes Ran watches you bite your bottom lip, gnaw on it like he wants to, like he moves to—
“Is this about the will?”
Ran freezes.
“Did—Harlan told you, didn’t he?”
“WHAT THE SHIT.” Ran’s rage explodes, heaving you off of him and into the passenger’s seat. “YOU FUCKING KNEW?!”
He shoves himself back in his pants and scrambles for the damn zipper.
“Ransom, it’s fine. He just—“
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you warn me? Jesus FUCK.” He’s unlatched and kicked the door open before you even get a word out.
“Harlan is my friend and—“
But he slams it shut, leaving your words muffled while Ran fumes in damp fucking clothes in the frigid air.
His fists almost—almost—pound on the hood of his car as he bites out, “I could have killed him.” 
Ran’s pacing toward the tree line when you finally shuffle from the beamer, pulling your dress back into place.
“Harlan’s my friend and he asked me in confidence if it made sense.”
“I’m sorry, he asked you? As in, my grandfather might not have done this if you hadn’t thrown me under the bus.”
“It wasn’t just about you.”
“It makes sense to leave me destitute? And you knew! You lying bitch,” he growls, immediately wishing the word hadn’t popped out, clawing at his scalp in a punishing attempt to think. “You watched me throw all that fucking money away and didn’t think I deserved to know?!“
“I’ve met you. Why would you listen to me about how to spend your money? That isn’t something you do, Ransom.”
“That’s not the point!” And stop calling me fucking ‘Ransom.’ “I can handle myself.”
“Then I guess your answer is ‘that’s how you spent the money,’ by choice.”
“I wasn’t given a choice. You lied to me. You’re the one who didn’t trust me.”
Your stalk forward in the dry leaves, stopping just outside of arm’s length away. “What the hell did I just say in there, huh? I love you. I said I love you, then you go and call me a bitch, so who’s the liar between us, huh? Who’s got trust issues?”
Ran’s face scrunches in distain. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“Guess,” you spit back easily. 
Well, he isn’t fucking saying it now. Fuck you. Fuck this. This is the worst-case scenario: poor and alone because if you know, he can never get away with his plan.
“Why do you always do that?” he growls with a venom that poisons no one but himself. “Why the fuck are you here then?” Why are you with him?
“I’m here to support my piece of shit boyfriend at a piece of shit family event because Hugh asked me to.”
Nope. The right name is wrong. It sounds much worse than he expected.
Ran doesn’t know what to do with all this sick energy churning in his gut except burn through it. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with his life.
“There it is. There’s the truth,” he yells, leaning into your face. “I know it. You know it. This isn’t going to work. We’re not the fucking same. We’re not even close—“
“I don’t want someone the same as me.”
“I’m a useless—”
“Ran.” Your hands fly to gently land on his face.
“—talentless—“
“Seriously, please.”
“—sack of shit and you—“
“HUGH!” The grip at his jaw slips as he jerks back.
Ran tenses, shoving his chilled fingers into his jean pockets, pushing the wet material in front away from his crotch. He goes awkwardly quiet.
Yelling. He remembers the yelling. He’s been comfortable with yelling for longer than he’s been comfortable with affection.
“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” You cross your arms over you chest and shiver. “This. This bullshit is why I didn’t tell you, but so what? You don’t have your own money. How do you think Harlan and I started out?”
He gives a look that shouts back everything he can’t put into words.
“You’re not useless or talentless. You’re entitled. That’s all, and you can change that state of being pretty fucking easily.”
“How? What am I supposed to do? Be a houseboy who eats you out once a week?”
“A week? Well, I hope I pay better than that.”
“Oh, what the fuck,” he grouches.
You giggle. You fucking giggle at that. “You started these jokes!”
“You don’t have to rub it in—”
“—just rub it out, huh?”
He doesn’t want to laugh. It’s not funny. His fate isn’t a laughing matter, but like everything else tonight, he fucking fails. A smile twitches at his lips.
“Ok, asshole, you want to be useful? How ‘bout driving us home? I’m freezing.”
He starts to protest but is cut off by a flinging arm.
“If you don’t get in this damn car, you will be helping me balance to pee in those woods.”
“Fucking gross,” Ran whines.
“Yeah, well, your ability to self-access is appalling too,” you jovially clap back, “but we’re working with what we’ve got.”
Fair.
Savage but fair.
He frowns and follows you into the car.
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You talk his ear off on the way to his house, but he isn’t in the least bit annoyed. He’s engrossed. It’s all a type of flattery Ransom can hardly fathom: honest praise.
“I was miserably alone before you.”
He wouldn’t have pegged that based on how he saw you at all those events, but now that he considers how you’ve opened up about your frustrations and the exhaustion of being the center of attention, it makes sense. Ransom takes attention away from you. He loves that shit. He doesn’t even care if it’s negative attention. Hide behind his broad back and shine that spotlight on him; he’s game.
“You know what people you pay to be around you—people who want something from you don’t do? Argue. No one has a real conversation. No one has an opinion contradictory to yours. No one calls you out on your shit. It’s so…”
“Boring,” he whispers without thinking.
There’s a long pause until you continue softly.
“No one calls me out on my shit except you, only you.“ 
Your hand finds his. Though your skin is cold, he’s warmed by the touch. 
“So no, I don’t think my money will change anything. If money—mine or yours—were going to change you, it would have done it by now. I mean, sure, you could stand to be less of a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to. I already…”
Your voice trails off, and Ran knows. That’s just it. You love him and he’s a dick, the poor asshole who understands what the feeling is, the one who can’t say it, not on purpose, not yet. The tectonic shift in his life’s framework leaves him uneasy. As wonderful as you are, as perfect as this has been, he has to start over.
He has to build himself up from scratch. He’s been transplanted to an alien planet that he doesn’t have the means to make hospitable. Money was his means to everything. Money provided for him. Money protected him. Money separated him from others.
He never had space for two in his now-demolished castle of selfishness.
“I thought I’d be with someone so different from you,” you laugh without heart. “I’m…glad I was wrong.”
All he can manage is a squeeze of your hand.
“But Hugh, you’re proud of my success, not fucking threatened by it. You let me work, but you also know when I need a break and won’t take one. You’re devoted without being smothering because you have your own damn life, things you want to do. You aren’t intimidated by all this shit in my stupid world or the money. You don’t give a fuck what other people say.”
That’s true.
“You make me laugh,” you say quietly, and though he can’t see your face in the dark of the road leading to his neighborhood, he hears your smile. “You asshole.”
As he turns into the driveway, he glances over and winks. “I try my best, sweetheart.”
He watches that throwaway statement melt you, and then he realizes why.
Ransom trying to do absolutely fucking anything is a big fucking deal, and he has tried. He simply has no idea where to go from here.
He turns off the beamer and makes no move to get out.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Your hand releases his to glide up his arm and lace through his hair, lightly rubbing the base of his neck. “Help me,” you breathe.
“How the fuck would I help you?”
“Hugh,” you cock your head to the side, retracting both arms to brush your palms down the fabric of your (ruined) skirt, “you know damn well you’d like to control my whole wardrobe. You would do far better dressing me for all those functions than I do…and undressing me.”
He knows what you’re doing, but instead of smiling or laughing, he tightens his jaw and huffs. “Can I burn some of your—“ he does half air-quotes “—'wardrobe?'”
It’s so hideous. That one black dress you keep fucking wearing? No amount of dry cleaning will make that look new again. That’s getting flambéed.
You purse your lips. “Donate, but yes. I would consider that a huge help.”
“You’re serious.” Ran’s not sure whether he means it as a question or a statement.
“Yes. I am. Thank you for noticing.” You swivel to open the door. “Now, you can also help get my bag in while I use the restroom.”
The dance of readying for bed becomes you pointing out things you have now that you did not have before him. Taste being one of them, Ran thinks to himself. The important thing is he could say that to your face, but he’s strategically not pushing his luck tonight.
It’s true. Nearly every article of clothing and every toiletry now links back to his insistence that you have nice things that are for you, not just for life in general. You come before the rest of the world; you come before your work. That’s his gift. That’s what he’s good at, and you make it clear: you need him for that talent.
All of these nice things, all these reasons he seems good to you, and all this need for him have Ran feeling some sorta way when you crawl into his bed naked and reach to turn off the light.
He grabs your hand before you make it to the switch, forcing it back to the mattress, keeping you facedown. His heated breath and heavy body roll over you, teeth grazing your shoulder and moving slowly to your earlobe.
“You know what else I’m good for?”
His free hand slips between your thighs and finds what slick you couldn’t clean up. The knowledge that some of it is his cum still inside you makes Ran shudder. How would he ever have lived without this?
You sigh, your mouth falling open at the intrusion, and your eyelids flutter closed.
“Fuck,” you moan, high and quiet.
“That’s right, baby,” he hisses, mimicking your condescension from the car. Oh yeah, he’s gonna ruin more than that goddamn dress tonight.
He takes time to torture you with his fingers, his weight rendering you immobile. Ran sweeps falling hair out of your face with free reign to pepper open-mouthed kisses across the stretch of skin he’s claimed since that very first fuck.
You always knew what you wanted. He never thought you’d truly want him, certainly not for more than a day. After tonight, it’s inconceivable you want him still, yet here you are, burying your face in the sheets to muffle little cries as he humps your ass cheek to get harder and harder.
Good god, why do you want him? He fucked around, he yelled at you, he called you horrible names, he left you for weeks at a time in a foreign country alone, and yet you are here.
Then your words spring to mind. He argues with you. He has opinions. He makes you laugh. He treats you like the independent person you are. He treats you like your money doesn’t matter.
Because it didn’t to him.
Ransom realizes now that you treat him as if his money didn’t matter because it doesn’t to you. Nothing changed when you knew he wouldn’t have it anymore. Not a single thing. Somewhere over the last months, Harlan told you his plan, and the only perceptible difference to Ran was you falling in love with him.
Because you love him. He is so grateful he’s almost angry. You could do better. He can give you better.
By the time you come on Ran’s fingers, he’s completely feral thinking about all those little ways you showed your feelings, all the ways you showed him kind touch is not weakness. You also showed him that touch doesn’t have to be weak to be kind. He can be rough with his feelings for you, intense as they are. He can sink his cock into you, practically screaming that he loves you, too, but the words aren’t spoken.
He presses a thick forearm across your back to keep you pinned. He spreads his legs to widen yours. He thrusts in possessive and messy movements. No words escape. His range of motion is limited this way, but he gets all of your glorious noises. They’ve become his favorite sleep track. It’s hard for him to rest without hearing your happy, panicked pleasure beforehand.
You make desperate fists in the sheets and arch your ass up higher. He sees the unnatural strain in your body, all for him, all so he can have just that fucking tiny bit more of you.
He can’t stay in this position forever though. You’ll never come again like this, and he wants to see your face. The car was dark, but the lamp is still on. He can watch you fall apart with him deep inside.
“Turn,” he orders, enjoying how dazed and shaky you are as you struggle to control your muscles.
You’re a sight. Erratic breaths hardly settle your gasps. Pliable and ruined. Torn to whimpering pieces and stitched back together only to be split apart again.
He drinks in his handiwork, climbing slowly between your legs, delicately helping to cross your heels at his ass, and sinking back into your heat slowly, so slowly, like your teasing in the car.
“Hugh,” you mutter, and fuck, he has never heard you beg.
Ransom has always loved sex, but this is different. He meets your glazed eyes with floundering blue depths and wonders why he can’t just enjoy it as basic sex anymore.
He’s always loved money, too, and although he doesn’t want to take it from you, Ran feels the weight of your charity. Money was his sun, his whole world, but it was not enough. You provide more, warmth that lets him spread out in contentment, light that keeps him from withering.
Money doesn’t need his love; it’s indifferent.
You, on the other hand, you are fucking radiant, glowing and hot with his arm tucked beneath your shoulders to grab at your hairline. He makes you look at him. Your fingernails scratch at his back while your hips grind together.
“So beautiful,” he rumbles, nose almost touching yours. “Come on, sweetheart—“ Ran drops to lave kisses down your bared throat “—one more for me.”
This time, you have no words, only grunting uh and hng as he speeds up. Your noises get higher. Ran gets rougher, a brutal rhythm for a brutal realization.
He can’t hold back when he sees you like this; he’s gonna say it.
He gets close, so very close to breaking, but you fall first.
“Please—ah.”
You fucking writhe beneath him, your whole body spasming like your silky pussy ripples over the sensitive skin of his cock.
“That’s it,” he coos in your ear. “That’s right. Good girl.”
He has to chance meeting your eyes because he wants to see you unravel again. Ran always does whatever he wants.
He slows his hips to intermittent thrusts that sizzle your nerves over and over, pulling his arm out from under you to lift your chin. You’re open for him in every sense of the word, and he is fucked in every possible way.
He’s an amoeba of a man staring evolution in the face.
You’re his. It’s clear in the light that he owns you. He’s earned you, or at least, he’s trying to. That’s a big deal for Ransom Drysdale.
Quivering, your mouth hanging open, his thumb rolling over your swollen bottom lip, he gets one word.
“Daddy.”
Barely a whisper, partly a question, but mostly an invitation. He slides his thumb up into your mouth, only letting you suck on it for a moment before it drags out.
Ran never thought you’d ever say that. He never imagined you’d beg either. You’ve always known what you want and taken it. You have never needed anything from him.
“Please,” you say again, holding your mouth wider still.
Shit. He throbs at the prospect, and he’s too far gone to deny you this. He plants one small peck on your jaw before pulling out and clambering over your hips and chest.
“Ah fuck,” he moans when you suck on one of his balls, stroking him with a smooth and firm grip. “Love y—love your mouth…so much.”
Ran leans against his headboard, hand clamped over his trap in a desperate attempt not to blabber, but you continue. You’re in tune with when he’s ready, when you’ve taken the teasing far enough and he needs to come. His hips stutter to shove himself just a little farther down your throat. He collects his wits only enough not to choke you, muffling a cry.
You’re gentle with him as he loses his absolute shit trying to keep it together, thighs shaking, breath hindered, biting the fuck out of his hand.
“Sorry, I…” he tries.
“I…I—“ he tries again.
He just can’t fucking do it.
Ran digs his palms so hard into his eyes he sees stars. His chest is tight like it’ll explode any second. The relief of orgasm has evaporated instantly, and he just really fucking can’t.
“Hey, hey,” you soothe, shifting up onto your kneels behind him, “it’s okay.” Your warm arms encircle his chest, over one shoulder and under the other, and you pull his own pliable and ruined body toward you.
He collapses back on his heels, leaning against you.
“Hugh, it’s alright.” Your whisper makes his eyes sting. “I know.”
Ran raises his arms to hold your wrists. His head drops to kiss the back of your hand. He still stays silent.
“I know…”
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Your bare legs stretch across his lap, and Ransom lets the hand warmed by his mug grasp your ankle gently. You’re off in your own mind, staring out the window of his living room, worrying your bottom lip. He watches while you don’t notice.
Ran never particularly liked the unknown, and after Harlan’s shit last night, he’s off surprises for a fucking lifetime. This, however, this with you, sitting in comfortable quiet, makes him feel perfectly at ease with an unsure future.
For someone so fascinating to him, you’re so normal.
Sure, you’re beauty trumps the view outside, you’re dedicated to your work, and you’re smart enough to run circles around anyone, but…
You’re just you, sitting with a hot drink on his couch in the morning, wearing one of his sweaters again. Could be a sixty-dollar sweater from a thrift shop—or six cents for all Ran knows about secondhand sales—or the six-hundred-dollar one that he stoopidly bought three weeks ago; it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing that matters to him now is who wears it. That garment means nothing without you in it.
You sip at your tea, and he follows, staring at you staring at the world.
You two spoke more about it last night in the dark about everything but that one little phrase that’s eating him alive, a tangled mess of yourselves and the sheets. Nothing has to change except where the money comes from. Ran gets what he’s wanted all along: control over your wardrobe and, essentially, your entire presentation to that world you’re staring out into. He is not, however, permitted to burn your favorite Little Black Dress, but for fuck’s sake he’ll get all of its seams checked and the damn thing refitted. He’s hoping if he makes enough fuss, you’ll choose to toss it just to shut him up.
Fucking rules. Ran hates rules. If you kept standards on par with your New Money maybe he’d follow your rules. He’ll get you in the good stuff: the good house with good furniture, the good clothing with good lingerie beneath, right down to the good wash and lotion.
You can keep your perfume. He likes your perfume.
Yes, he’ll get you into what he wants, when he wants, where he wants, and all that implies. Ransom always gets what he wants…because you let him.
It’s remarkable what you let him fucking do, too.
He slides his hand from your ankle to your knee, knocking you out of your reverie just in time for his phone to buzz.
He holds your legs to him while sneaking a glance at the screen. Linda. Fuck no, he’s not answering that. It’s not Sunday and he’s not ditching anything. Fucking wait. Fucking choke for all he cares.
Ran instead sets his nearly empty mug down beside your two phones on the coffee table and curls up in your corner of couch. You open your arms to tuck him into your chest, and sure, it’s cutesy and gross in a way that should make Ran want to gag, but who fucking cares when he’s this comfortable. He plants a kiss right on your nipple through the knit for fun, feeling you shiver, then listens to your heart.
His phone vibrates again, dancing closer to the stoneware he just put down.
His mother’s persistence is as admirable as it is annoying. Predictably, Ran’s bored by her usual shit and ignores it again.
Instead of pushing up his sweater to wrap an arm around your waist though, he shoves his now chilly fingers between your hot thighs and sighs. His ear rings with the airy sound of your laugh through flesh.
Then your phone dings, and he just fucking knows it’s her. His groaned protest goes unheeded as you swap your mug for the device and bring it to you.
Ran snorts, and you smooth your free hand over his hair.
“Hello—“ there are harsh but restrained mumbles but he can’t make out the words “—Linda, why on Earth would I be with a man the night he yelled at me like that?”
Because you love him, Ran thinks, but he hears garbled disappointment from the other end.
“And after how your brother and his wife acted—” more rushed excuses “—I don’t have time to go around looking for your adult baby. I have work to do and a plane to catch.” There’s obvious desperation in Linda’s tone, but you don’t care. “Goodbye.”
You let your phone drop to the rug, carding fingers through his hair before finishing with little scratches. Your nonchalance is still pure honesty. You wouldn’t waste time on him, not if you didn’t want him, and you did not let him speak to you that way for more than three sentences because you knew exactly how to shut him up.
“Vicious little bitch,” you mutter.
And…in all your perfect, honest, niceness, you called his mother a bitch—not to her face but you’ll get there, Ran’s sure.
He fucking loves you. He is really so fucking in love with you that it’s fucking gross. He’s disgusted and doesn’t fucking care.
After a big sigh, your hand finds his between your legs and moves it to cup your sex. “Where were we?”
Ransom shifts up over you at the same time as you slide beneath him on the buttery leather cushions. His wildly true and blue eyes meet yours with stern sincerity.
He’s looking at everything he ever wanted, and it’s not money. There are all sorts of things he can use to survive, loads of things he can replace, an infinite amount to take, but only one you, only one complete package. Not a thing. Not replaceable. Finite. Earned. New. Fascinating. Teasing. Messy. Sexy. A total hardass badass with a great ass.
Ran lays his hand heavier on that thin layer of silk, possession laced in the caress, and the words just flow right out.
“Marry me.”
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@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555
Oh my god, gang, I can't believe I fucking did it. Truly, this fic has been one of the craziest things I've ever attempted, and honestly, I'm so damn proud. I'm proud that I wrote it, I'm proud that it's over, and I'm proud of whatever reception it gets. I murdered my soul for this and am delighted. Thank you all so much for reading!
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