#after he fisted me of course
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depravedangelbaby · 29 days ago
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girl.. what do you mean he helped me clean half of my house + is already planning how to add some shelving so we have better storage.. my heaaaaart !!!
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shima-draws · 1 year ago
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sanguinarysanguinity · 29 days ago
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You’re actually a Sherlock Holmes character come to life, from a little seaside town and knows all the terribly fascinating and nautical goings-ons
Me and Watson have a good jaw about the sea novel he's reading, and whether or not the author got all the nautical details right.
(Watson takes the position that it doesn't MATTER if you get the details right, so long as you tell a GOOD YARN. Holmes, who is splayed out on the ground licking the caulking, snorts derisively.)
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cator99 · 4 months ago
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I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care
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merry-andrews · 2 years ago
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Boxer!Bradley AU;
Bradley fights big matches and wins big prizes. He's one of famous ones. one night at a bar he meets Jake. He's a run-away kid looking for finding a job in this big town and a new start and it's supposed to be a casual one-night stand but morning after when Jake walks around Bradley's small kitchen, wearing Bradley's shirt and sitting on Brad when he's doing his push-ups, Bradley just gets too fond of him that he suggests Jake to stay with him until he finds his own place to live.
he's set for a big match for next couple of months and his competitor is also a good boxer with good reputation too so it's a real challenge if he can beat him. Talking about moneys and bets here which he can make a whole new life someplace else (with Jake💗 Brad's planning on to purpose him) something that he doesn't know, Jake's his competitor's lover.. and all this was a plan from start to get under Bradley's skin to get to convince him losing the match without polluting his own name. So Brad finds out somehow and they break up and while Jake truly has feelings for him, but he doesn't say a word or begs him.. he just leaves..
Brad wins the prize (Jake's heart was beating so fast he was so scared, on the edge of tears whenever Brad got hit. At the end Bradley's locking eyes with Jake while they raise his hand to announce winner) and at that same night Jake comes knocking on a moping Bradley's door, tears in his eyes when Brad pulls him in a kiss, says he's in love with Bradley and he put bets on Bradley instead of his ex-lover💗
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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Anytime I think about how much Vash loves to play with kids, I go a little bit insane
And then I think about how soft Wolfwood is towards kids & how protective he is of them. And I go even more insane.
These two really go so well together...
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seithr · 10 months ago
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Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now
(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)
(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)
Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh
#(I'm emotional because I've been feeling bad about it all lately. enjoying things I make I mean—art or ocs or frivilous things.)#(So remembering that song and when it came out. That I couldn't see them in person. But i held onto it my own way. As something I loved)#(Something I still do love a lot... Parts of me saying no—you don't hate it. No. I'll help you remember more. I'm a little misty about it.)#The song is just The Killers - Run For Cover. I couldn't see them in person all those years ago—family went without me.#All my new oc rework with Zin and Hunter and Caia were like a year old or so.#It's a little silly. But the character Zin's derived from was a lightning mage so I stuck to it—I like monhun's zinogre for what its worth#So there's recurring theme and imagery. Thunder's not lightning but the sound and the feeling after the flash the flame and strike.#There's that meaningful thought—the story is the aftermath of a big tragedy. It matches what I like in monsters and other chars.#And at that time—my favourite band I missed out on puts out a really good song I download everywhere and it goes like:#He motioned me to the sky/ I heard heaven and thunder cry/ Run for cover/ Run while you can baby don't look back/ You gotta run for cover#And it goes on of course. The rest of the song's still really good. There's more that fits but point is; More evocative imagery.#So there. Why my bundle of OCs—Zinadia Hunter and Caia's story—is called Thunder 20XX. minus the 20XX. That's tongue-in-cheek#About some day I'll manage to make something tangeable or broadly shareable with them. I guarentee this century!#Thunder... oh my darling Thunder. Eight years man. More than that if I really want to count pre-rework INTO the complete original work. but#I like that it's definably 8. I like that I remembered I've always loved them a lot. Always been my thing to lean on even by name...#I need to get to sleep. Ive gotten a little more emotional over one song than I'd rather regularly be. Give it a listen maybe? Goodnight#Armour clanking#I need an oc tag#What have you gathered to report to your progenitors?🎶Are your excuses any better than your senator's🎶He held a conference#and his wife was standing by his side🎶He did her dirty but no-one died🎶#I saw Sonny Liston on the street last-night black-fisted and strong singing🎶Redemption song🎶#He motioned me to the sky🎶I heard heaven and thunder cry🎶RUN FOR COVER#What are you waiting for—a kiss or an apology?🎶You think by now you'd have an A in toxicology🎶#It's hard to pack the car when all you do is shame us🎶Even harder when the dirtbag's famous🎶#I saw my mother on the street last night all pretty and strong singin🎶The road is long🎶#I said 'Mama I know you tried!'🎶But she fell on her knees and cried🎶RUN FOR COVER#Just run for cover - you've got nothin left to lose...
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secondpersonpoetry · 2 months ago
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hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3
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OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.
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i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)
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at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)
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don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.
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and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)
narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.
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this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)
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we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)
[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]
#not me being like did i tell y'all about seeing bleachers? and then just proceeded to take it at face value like yeah i probably did#do i remember when or in what context absolutely not. maybe re: popstar jack? also very possible i was just. yapping.#anyway we're gonna put tag footnotes for other potential pairings &dynamics because otherwise this post looks frankly. unhinged. which it i#(1) because i am nothing if not a parody of myself i would like to provide an honorable mention to the death of the goon in this lyric.#when does time stop? when is it just you & your anger? who's the person you've divorced yourself from because you couldn't catch their fist#in case it was not clear this is also incredibly a trade narrative. did we pick that up? this is lovers to enemies. this is we were not goo#for each other and i don't regret that. parise suter fans rise up. the speaker in this case is the minnesota wild org.#(2) there is a note of nostalgia and longing here--when you were magic. i remember when you were a giant to me. i remember the hope#and possibilities. rip to sidney crosby the next one and golden boy of this generation but this is sung like a rookie to the vet they once#idolized. i was sold and maybe i shouldn't have bought it. maybe you tarnished over time. or in a softer light it is a comfort not a#criticism i bought tickets to the show. at your best you really were something and you made me believe i could be magic too. SORRY. dylan.#sorry. he'll come up again later. but every team has a golden boy don't they? do we know the cathal kelly bedard article where he talks abt#eating your prospects alive by building a narrative they can never live up to & promising them every year so that when they can it's a shoc#(3) three line devastation here my god. don't pretend you were kind golden boy! don't you dare tell anyone what you told me because then#they'd know too. the “coming out” narrative of it is discussed but while i don't love this it's the easiest example i have: jamie & trevor#have we heard jamie talk about trevor in a single interview? sometimes after a guy you loved gets traded you don't want the reminder.#it's even worse if he chooses to leave. claude giroux hater-era au arc where we don't talk about him. jt leaving the islanders dead to them#(4) while not a trade the other draft narrative we grew up together to enemies is of course zach and dylan. zach roaming around ann arbor#please also apply to subsequent usntdp team 100/101/102 narratives. alex turcotte i'm sorry they never speak your name you will hurt foreve#(5) to counter the rookie to the vet narrative of the golden boy this is fairly explicitly To Me a vet about his rookie who's supposed to b#the promised one the one who'll save them all. dallas is coming to mind here but not for any real reason. nail yakupov are you there.#taylor hall curse of the 1OA. pretty common also for guys to take in a kid when you're barely 26 yourself & haven't got ur shit figured out#so. dealing with a neurotic driven kid? yeah this is somebody who had a golden boy &fell out of favor. got traded. ty smith j'accuse style#(6) or in another story please don't call because i'll come right back#goodnight chicago the playoff handshake line. please don't call me. please don't call me.#HELLO BESTIE!!!! i think this is a wonderful song for Fic Purposes and could be applied well to SO many different narratives. i picked a#specific example but do feel the dynamic is very much what the song says: toxic ex and/or family/friend you don't need in your life. trades#seguin leaving boston etc etc. there IS an answer eluding me besides mcstrome though. not toxic enough. tk pat trade? OH TK PAT. or older#trade deadline tragedy
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ifyourelateimsorry · 3 months ago
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Sometimes, we hurt our friends. And even though we apologize many times, that doesn't erase that fact. We still hurt them either way, and it's not our place to choose whether they forgive us or not because the one who got hurt was them, and not us. We may not even know the full amount of pain that they felt in that moment, and that's real.
So just apologize, but don't expect forgiveness.
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s0dium · 8 months ago
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Creep
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Warnings: Creepy/stalker behavior, breeding kink, pussydrunk behavior, cumflation, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, orgasms
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You know it's wrong, so wrong to enjoy the attention of a creep.
At least, that's what people call him. But through the snickers and sidelong glances that surround him, there's something about him that intrigues you, attracts you, something you can't seem to get out of your head.
It starts off small, letting him eye you from across the room and flashing him a small smile. Then you notice he starts to get bolder, more confident in his advances. As the days pass, his presence becomes a constant in your routine. He waits for you after class, catches you alone in elevators, leans in closer during conversations, and even starts to find excuses to touch your arm or shoulder. Each interaction feels like a challenge, a test of boundaries that seems he's all too willing to push.
In the beginning, you almost listen to the unease flickering in the back of your mind, warning that maybe you are playing with fire. But as the tension builds, you find your resolve slowly melting, small touches on your arm turn grazes against your ass and the quick glances evolve into him blatantly checking you out.
So only you can be blamed for the situation you're in right now. Only you can be blamed for letting it get like this.
His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.
"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.
"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.
"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.
"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.
His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.
"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 
As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.
"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"
SHIGARAKI, YUUTA OKKATSU, L LAWLIET, SHINSO, KENMA, GYUTARO
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cumironi · 3 months ago
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I F☆CK HATE EMO BOYS s. geto & k. choso
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☆ sum. you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your body— if they d☆ck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys?
warning. college au, dōuble-penetration, manhandling, ōral ( m receiving ), fingēring, semi-public space, anāl, unprotected sēx, geto is annoying,
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you hate emo boys.
you sit cross-legged on the floor of the cramped music room, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glare daggers at the two so-called emo boys sitting on the stage with you. it’s your final project for the semester, and of course, you got stuck with them—choso and geto. you’re already mentally drained by their whole “dark and brooding” shtick, and the fact that they’re in the same art and music major only ensures you’re forced to endure it day after day.
choso is hunched over his electric guitar, strumming out a tune that sounds suspiciously similar to every other broody song he’s ever played. his face is painted with that classic distant, “nobody gets me” expression that makes you want to roll your eyes so far back they might get stuck. meanwhile, geto, who is supposed to be helping with the composition, is lounging on the stage like he owns the place, cigarette dangling from his lips, blowing smoke rings as if he’s above it all.
your patience is wearing thin.
“you know,” you say, voice laced with sarcasm, “sitting around and looking like a dark cloud doesn’t exactly count as helping.”
geto tilts his head, smirking as he blows another lazy ring of smoke, seemingly unfazed by your irritation. his long black hair falls in messy strands around his face, half-tied up in some kind of “effortlessly cool” way that, unfortunately, does suit him. but god, it’s infuriating. the urge to yank that stupid ponytail and force him to actually do something is almost unbearable.
“i am helping,” he drawls, voice dripping with boredom as he stretches out, reclining back on his elbows. “just by being here, i’m setting the mood.”
choso stifles a laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement at your irritation. you shoot him a glare that could freeze fire, and he just shrugs, clearly used to geto’s antics. “yeah,” choso chimes in, plucking a single, somber note, “besides, nobody asked you to be here either.”
“unfortunately, the professor did,” you mutter under your breath. you’re practically boiling with annoyance, fists clenching. “and we’re supposed to be collaborating, not indulging in whatever dark poet wannabe persona you’re both putting on.”
geto smirks wider, taking another drag of his cigarette as he looks you up and down. “oh, you mean you don’t appreciate my brooding, enigmatic aura? i’m just trying to channel my inner tortured artist,” he responds with mock sincerity. “we’re not all about sunshine and rainbows like you, princess. some of us have a deeper connection to music.”
choso is still snickering as he strums out another note, the two emo boys clearly enjoying your irritation. choso meets geto’s eye with a playful look, as though they’re both in on some secret joke, but you can’t decipher the silent communication between them. he grins, clearly enjoying how easy it is to rile you up. “yeah, it’s not our fault you have the musical taste of a high school pep rally.” his comment earns a snort from geto, who chuckles under his breath.
you scoff, rolling your eyes so dramatically that it’s a miracle they don’t roll right out of your head. their mocking expressions, geto’s cigarette-smoke smile, and choso’s silent snickers grate on you, pushing every button they seem to know so well.
“oh, please,” you say, voice thick with sarcasm as you fling your pen, first at geto and then at choso. it clatters harmlessly beside them, but the message is clear. “i have a deep connection with music too, you know.” your eyes lock onto geto’s, a challenge blazing in your gaze. “just because i don’t act like i’ve lived through a hundred lifetimes of despair doesn’t mean i can’t understand depth.”
geto’s smirk doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, the cigarette dangling between his fingers as he studies you with feigned curiosity. “is that so?” he drawls, looking entirely unconvinced.
you ignore him, turning to choso, who’s still grinning like he’s just heard the best joke of his life. “and by the way, my music taste is nothing like a high school pep rally. just because i don’t sit around and strum sad songs doesn’t mean i don’t know good music when i hear it.”
choso chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he casually strums another lazy chord on his guitar. “right. suuuure, princess,” he says, the endearment clearly meant to rile you up more.
you take a breath, hands curling into fists at your sides. “if anyone here is all talk, it’s the two of you. maybe if you actually spent half as much time doing the work instead of pretending to be these misunderstood, tragic geniuses, we’d actually finish this project.”
geto and choso share another amused look, enjoying how easily they can get under your skin. geto takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he smirks at your fiery response. “cute speech,” he drawls, his voice dripping with condescension. “but forgive me if i don’t quite believe it. you think you understand depth just because you listen to some shallow pop songs and think they’re deep?”
choso chuckles again, clearly enjoying the spectacle, and continues to idly play his guitar with his signature smirk.
geto lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. he leans back on one elbow, cigarette balanced between his fingers. “you’ve got us all figured out, don’t you? we’re just two dark, brooding souls living tragically deep, tortured lives. and you’re just… what? some bright ray of sunshine, here to bring us out of our musical abyss?”
choso chuckles again, still plucking at his guitar as he shares another amused glance with geto. “yeah, how lucky we are. our very own little guardian angel, here to save us from our emo ways,” he responds, clearly finding the situation amusing.
geto nods, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air. he studies you intently, his gaze almost calculating as he watches for your reaction. “your enthusiasm is endearing,” he smirks, “but let’s not pretend that you’re anything more than a naive, hopelessly optimistic girl in a class full of brooding, misunderstood artists.”
you glare at geto, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling beneath your skin as his smirk widens with every word he says. the sight of him leaning back, exhaling another plume of smoke as if he owns the world and everyone in it, makes your blood boil. that condescending drawl, that cocky look—god, you hate emo boys.
without thinking, you reach down, grab his bag, and hurl it straight at him. it smacks him square in the chest, and he blinks in surprise, momentarily caught off guard as he catches it before it hits the ground.
“you’re an asshole, suguru,” you snap, voice sharp as you stand up, glaring at both of them. “i hate you and your stupid, tortured artist act. enjoy your ‘depth’ without me.” you turn to leave, gripping your things, determined to escape this room filled with cigarette smoke and smug grins.
geto rolls his eyes, his smirk never faltering as he watches you storm toward the door, clearly amused by your outburst. with a sigh, he stands up, taking his time before following you to the door. “don’t be sooo thin-skinned, sunshine,” he drawls, reaching out to catch your hand, which is already on the doorknob.
you yank your hand back, but he’s faster, his grip firm as he gently pulls your hand away from the door. and before you even realize what’s happening, he twists the lock, the soft click filling the air.
you narrow your eyes at him, frustration flaring again as he stands behind you, his presence way too close. he still has that damn smirk, looking down at you with a mix of challenge and amusement. his hands move to rest on your upper arms, a touch that’s surprisingly gentle but keeps you in place. you tense under his grip, but he’s already nudging you backward, guiding you away from the door, back toward the center of the room where choso is still sitting, half-watching the scene unfold as he idly strums his guitar.
“you know,” geto murmurs, that hint of laughter still in his tone, “maybe you’re taking all of this a bit too personally. it’s not like we don’t appreciate your presence or anything.” he’s leaning in, close enough that his words are more of a soft murmur against your ear.
you huff, rolling your eyes. “oh, sure. you just like having me here to entertain you with my ‘shallow’ music taste, right?”
geto chuckles, his breath ghosting over your ear in a way that sends a slight shiver down your spine. but you push the feeling away, refusing to let his subtle touch affect you. “hmm, something like that,” he replies, his voice a low murmur. “and your little temper tantrums are so cute.”
you slowly turning your head over your shoulder to give him a glare that could melt steel. the audacity. you arch an eyebrow, letting out a huff. “you’re a dog, you know that, right?”
but geto’s smirk only deepens, clearly unfazed. he leans in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “woof woof,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with a mock sultriness that sends a shiver down your spine despite yourself. he’s so close that you can almost feel his smile in that smug tone, knowing full well the effect he’s having on you.
you clench your jaw, trying to ignore the strange flutter that rises in your chest. why did he have to turn everything into a game, a challenge that he somehow always managed to win? your fingers tighten around your things, grounding yourself as you try to shake off the flush threatening to rise to your cheeks.
“ugh, seriously?” you mutter, yanking yourself out of his grasp as you step away, putting some much-needed space between you. “can you be any more insufferable?”
geto just chuckles, taking pleasure in your reaction. he’s clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse, loving every moment of your frustration. and as you try to step away, his hand snatches the back of your shirt, yanking you back toward him, preventing your escape. he pulls you closer with a fluid motion, bringing you within inches of his smug face.
he leans in, his voice is low and laced with that same hint of mockery. “i can actually be significantly worse. i’m just holding back, princess. you should be grateful.”
choso snickers from his spot on the stage, watching the spectacle with a knowing smirk. he’s seen this song and dance between you and geto countless times, and yet he never gets tired of it. after all, the sight of you and geto at each other’s throats is always a thrilling one.
geto takes a minu step closer, closing the distance between you two. his grip tightens on the back of your shirt, keeping you in place. “so, what are you going to do now, sunshine? keep huffing and puffing, or are you going to give in?”
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “maybe i should start carrying a spray bottle for you two,” you snap back, though the playful edge in your voice betrays your amusement.
choso laughs outright, a sharp bark of laughter, while geto chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. “oh, a spray bottle? how original, princess,” geto teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “go ahead. i could use a good misting.” he takes another step closer, the heat of his body nearly close enough to touch yours. his grip on your shirt is still firm, but you can feel his fingers tracing small circles on the fabric, a subtle display of possessiveness.
choso chuckles as he strums out another chord on his guitar. “yeah, we’re not kittens you can just spray with water,” he remarks. “but we might respond to treats.” you roll your eyes, scoffing at choso’s words. “as if i’d give you two anything resembling a treat. you don’t do anything that deserves one,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm.
geto smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, and inches even closer, closing the already narrow space between you two. you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your hands, which you’ve instinctively placed on his chest to push him back, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give you the space you need. instead, he just leans in further, his gaze unwavering and challenging as his fingers continue to lightly trace along the hem of your shirt, a subtle, infuriating reminder that he’s got you exactly where he wants you.
choso’s smirk deepens as he lifts his hand, extending his middle and ring fingers in a subtle, teasing wiggle that makes your cheeks burn instantly. “oh, i can do plenty that deserves a treat,” he murmurs, his voice carrying just the right mix of mischief and challenge, the playful gleam in his eyes only adding to his boldness.
your face flushes as you glare at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity. “pervert,” you snap, rolling your eyes in an attempt to cover up the blush creeping up your face. geto chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction, and leans even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he adds, “oh, i think we hit a nerve there, didn’t we, sunshine?”
you turn your glare back at him, trying to shake off the heat that’s already spreading across your face. “maybe if you two idiots put half as much effort into this project as you do into annoying me, we’d actually be done by now.”
geto snickers, unfazed by your insults. “oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that?” he retorts, his voice dripping with mockery. “and honestly, annoying you might be more enjoyable than your whole music taste.”
choso chuckles from his spot on the stage, clearly enjoying the back and forth as he idly strums out a lazy chord on his guitar. “come on, admit it. you love the attention,” he teases with a knowing smirk. “how else would we keep you from fleeing the room?”
geto’s eyes glint with a devilish spark as he draws out the word, “but…” letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you tense up in anticipation. before you can even fully register his intentions, he wraps an arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet, his strength catching you off guard. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to steady yourself, a surprised gasp escaping your lips.
“if you’re so eager for us to work on this project,” he murmurs, that familiar teasing tone laced with something deeper, “then i suppose we should oblige you.”
choso watches with a smirk, setting his guitar aside and leaning back on his hands, clearly entertained. he shifts slightly as geto carries you over to him, his gaze lazily tracing the scene as though it’s all some amusing game.
before you know it, geto lays you down, your head coming to rest on choso’s thigh, his fingers instantly playing with a strand of your hair while he looks down at you with a knowing grin. geto settles between your legs, his eyes alight with mischief as he leans closer, his weight pressing against you just enough to pin you there.
your eyes widen, heart pounding as you squirm, trying to push him away and hit his shoulder. “suguru, get off!” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended, but he only chuckles, entirely unfazed.
geto’s smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your flustered attempt to escape. as you try to push him away, he effortlessly catches your wrists, pinning them above your head, his body still pressed against yours, effectively trapping you.
he leans in, his breath hot against you as he speaks, his voice a low, amused murmur. “easy, princess. we’re just working on the project, remember?” choso chuckles from above, his fingers still idly toying with your hair as he looks down at you, clearly enjoying this moment. “yeah, relax. we’re actually going to be productive for once,” he teases, a smirk on his lips.
geto’s grip tightens on your wrists as he shifts his weight, settling himself more comfortably into the space between your legs. he’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of cigarettes and something more distinctly him filling your senses. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice a low murmur. “or are you finally starting to enjoy this?”
your cheeks flush a deep red, the warmth spreading down your neck as you try to keep your composure. you look away, biting your lip as you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the sound of it almost deafening in your ears. taking a steadying breath, you clear your throat, desperately trying to suppress any hint of nervousness.
“this… this is not the project,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t pull away. instead, you muster up the courage to meet geto’s gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of defiance and something else—something you’re not quite ready to name.
geto’s smirk deepens at your whispered protest. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine. “sure it is,” he counters, his voice a low rumble, his eyes locked onto yours. “we’re getting acquainted with each other’s… skills, let’s say. it’s an essential part of the creative process.” choso snickers from above, his fingers still moving lazily through your hair. “yeah, consider it a team-building exercise,” he adds, his voice dripping with amusement.
your gaze locks onto geto’s, the challenge in your eyes unmistakable. you tilt your head slightly, defiant and intrigued all at once, a smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah?” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “and just what kind of skills are we talking about?”
geto’s smirk widens, clearly delighted by your question. he leans even closer, his lips ghosting over yours, almost but not quite touching. “well,” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing murmur that sends a shiver down your spine, “the kind of skills that… require hands-on experience.”
choso chuckles softly above you, his hand in your hair, fingers curling lightly around a strand. “you’re in good hands, don’t worry,” he teases, his tone both playful and reassuring. “we’re professionals, after all.” you roll your eyes at the both of them, your heart racing despite your best efforts to stay composed. “oh? you do?” you mutter, though the way your voice wavers slightly betrays your flustered state.
geto’s smirk turns almost devilish as he notices the slight waver in your voice, feeling your resistance beginning to crumble. he shifts his body, pressing himself even closer against you, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head.
“oh, we do,” he affirms, a note of confidence edging into his voice. “we’ve got plenty of… relevant experience.” choso chuckles softly, his fingers continuing to toy idly with your hair. “and we’re more than happy to give you a… hands-on demonstration,” he adds, his tone teasing.
a rush of heat floods your cheeks, but you don’t dare look away, meeting geto’s gaze head-on, even with your heart pounding so fiercely that he can feel the pulse beneath his fingers. you swallow, your defiance giving way to something more vulnerable, more curious.
“like what?” you whisper, barely audible, but he catches every word. the smirk on his face shifts, deepening into something darker, a spark of satisfaction flaring in his eyes at your words, the smirk on his face turns almost predatory.
choso’s hand continues to toy idly with your hair, watching the scene unfold. a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he witnesses the undeniable tension between the two of you, clearly enjoying the show.
geto leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locking onto yours as you speak. “like this.” he moves suddenly, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, possessive kiss, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to make you gasp against his mouth.
the kiss is demanding, almost possessive, like he’s staking his claim on you at that very moment. his tongue brushes lightly over your bottom lip, a silent request for entry, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his tongue pushes into your mouth, claiming it.
as geto kisses you, his lips move against yours with a mixture of rough possessiveness and subtle tenderness, the contrast making your head spin. he doesn’t give you any room to pull away, his body still pinning you firmly in place, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head. it’s dominant, overwhelming, and you find yourself melting into the kiss without even realizing it.
when he eventually breaks away for air, his eyes scan your face, taking note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. he smirks, noticing the way you’ve already lost some of your resistance.
you stare up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, struggling to steady your racing heart as you feel the lingering warmth of his lips on yours. your cheeks are flushed, and the remnants of the kiss—soft, glistening traces of shared heat—cling to your lips, a tangible reminder of the closeness that had just taken place.
geto’s smirk only widens as he takes in your expression, clearly pleased with the effect he’s had on you. he shifts, letting one of his hands trail down, grazing your cheek in a teasing, feather-light touch. “what’s the matter?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “cat got your tongue?”
you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat, leaving you speechless. all you can do is glare at him, though the intensity is softened by the dazed look in your eyes.
geto’s smirk only deepens at your lack of response, clearly enjoying the power he has over you in that moment. he leans in closer, his hand tracing a path down your neck, his touch light and tantalizing. “tsk, tsk,” he murmurs between chuckles. “no cutting remarks? no snarky comeback?”
he leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear as he murmurs, “or are you just too distracted by my… skills?”
“n-no,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the mess of emotions tumbling around inside you. your gaze flickers from geto’s amused smirk to choso’s lazy, knowing grin, and you quickly lick your lower lip, still tasting the faint remnants of geto’s kiss.
choso leans over you, a sly grin on his lips, clearly amused by how flustered you’ve become. “seems like we’ve finally managed to render her speechless,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement. you swallow, trying to regain even a fraction of your composure, but the feeling of geto’s lips lingering on yours keeps replaying in your mind, muddling every sharp retort you want to throw at him.
“i don’t—” you start, desperately trying to sound defiant, but the slight quiver in your voice gives you away. “i don’t...” the words come out weaker than you intended, and even you can feel the doubt behind them.
you hate emo boys, right?
choso chuckles, clearly amused at your feeble attempt to hold onto your usual defiant attitude. he continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently twirling strands around them as he leans back against the stage.
geto, on the other hand, takes your attempt as a challenge, his smirk widening into a sly grin. he tightens his grip on your wrists, pinning you even more firmly against his body. “oh, really?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mockery. “you don’t what, princess?”
you frown, finally managing to push geto back just enough to sit up, shaking your wrists free from his hold. “you’re so damn annoying,” you mutter, trying to sound resolute, though your heart is still racing, and your cheeks are still warm.
but before you can even think of standing, choso’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you backward with a gentle yet firm pull. you lose your balance, falling back into his lap, your back pressing against his chest as his arms settle around you, keeping you securely in place.
“now, now,” he whispers, his voice low and smooth, right next to your ear, “we haven’t finished with the hands-on learning session.” his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, and you can feel the rumble of his chuckle against your back.
geto watches with a pleased smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leans back, clearly entertained by the shift in control. “see, princess? you keep acting all tough, but you’re right where we want you,” he teases, folding his arms and tilting his head as he watches you, enjoying every flustered reaction.
your face burns, but despite the urge to throw out a sharp comeback, your mind goes blank with the feeling of choso’s closeness, his steady presence both soothing and entirely overwhelming.
your breath catches as choso’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you even closer against his chest. his touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in place, and there’s no escaping the warmth of his body pressed against yours. when his chin settles on your shoulder, you can feel the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin, a contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he whispers.
“you keep resisting,” he murmurs, his voice teasing and warm against your ear, “but maybe that’s because we haven’t given you a proper, hands-on demonstration yet.”
his other hand glides over yours, fingers lacing together as he leans in, his breath tickling the sensitive skin along your jawline before running his fingers over your clothed breast, feeling the lace material over your shirt. geto, watching your reaction with that same devilish smirk, steps in closer, his presence filling any space left, his gaze sharp and intense.
with you pinned between the two of them, there’s no escaping their touch or their relentless teasing. choso’s hand, so maddeningly close to bare skin, moves confidently over your shirt, while geto leans in even closer, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the flushed look on your face.
he reaches up, lazily trailing his fingers down your cheek, his touch sending tingles down your spine. “or maybe,” he murmurs, “you’re just not ready to admit how much you’re enjoying this.”
“shut up,“ you mumble, squirming uncomfortably under their combined gazes. your cheeks burn hotter than ever, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than the sensation of choso’s fingers dancing dangerously close and geto’s intoxicating proximity.
you try to pull away, to put some distance between yourself and the two men who seem intent on breaking down your walls, but choso only tighten his hold, making escape nearly impossible. “let me go,” you demand, your voice shaky, but whether from anger or arousal, you’re not sure.
“what fun would that be?” geto retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. his smirk doesn’t falter, and if anything, it grows more pronounced as he watches you struggle in vain against choso’s grip.
choso, meanwhile, seems content to let geto handle most of the verbal sparring, focusing instead on the task at hand. his fingers continue their tortuous path over the fabric of your shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts through the thin material. his touch is light, teasing, but the effect is undeniable.
the room may be empty, but it feels like the walls are closing in, the heat between the three of you nearly palpable. you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure as choso’s fingers brush tantalizingly close to your nipples. you bite your lip, a soft whimper escaping your throat as geto’s smirk deepens.
“we should do our project instead... instead of this,” you stammer, trying to muster some semblance of defiance, even though your body betrays you with each passing second. your heart pounds in your chest, your breaths coming quicker as the tension in the room rises.
geto scoffs, rolling his eyes at your suggestion. “who said anything about stopping?” he drawls, shifting slightly in his seat to give himself a better view of your predicament. his dark eyes sparkle with mischief, and his grin widens even further, revealing his white teeth.
choso chuckles softly, leaning in until his lips brush against your ear. “this is a part of our project, no?” he purrs, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. his fingers finally dip beneath your shirt, finding your hardened nipple through your bra and pinching it gently, eliciting a gasp from you.
geto watches, his smirking eyes never leaving yours as choso continues his torment, his own hands moving freely now that you’re effectively trapped between them. with nowhere else to turn, you grit your teeth and glare at geto, even as choso’s fingers continue their wicked exploration. “i swear,” you seethe, “if you don’t stop—”
“and what would you do?” geto interrupts, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he leans in closer, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he gets a whiff of your scent. “because i’m not seeing much resistance here.”
before you can come up with a retort, choso’s hand snakes its way around your waist, his thumb brushing against your belly button. he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “relax, princess,” he coos, his voice dropping to a low purr. “it’s just sex.”
you wince as choso’s thumb brushes against your exposed flesh, a shudder running through your body at his words. you clench your fists, biting your lip to keep from moaning aloud. “t-that’s not true!” you protest weakly, though your body tells a different story. your cheeks flush darker, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as the heat between the three of you intensifies. god, you hate emo boys so much!
geto barks out a laugh at your weak protests, shaking his head in amusement. “oh please, spare us the indignation act. we all know you’re loving every second of this.” choso hums in agreement, his fingers trailing lower, dipping teasingly below the waistband of your skirt. “your body is far more honest than your mouth,” he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe.
geto shifts closer, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. “why fight it? we both know where this is heading. might as well enjoy the ride, hmm?” his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a clear invitation. behind you, choso presses closer, the evidence of his arousal evident against your backside as his hands roam your curves possessively.
geto merely laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “denial isn’t a very attractive trait, love,” he teases, reaching out to run a finger along your arm. the sensation sends sparks shooting up your skin, and you can’t help but flinch.
choso grins devilishly, taking advantage of your reaction. he slips his hand lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping beneath the hem of your skirt. his touch is feather-light, teasing, yet filled with promise. his hand slides lower to tease the edge of your panties. his fingers ghost along the delicate fabric, making you jump in surprise. “so tense,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “let us help you relax. this is a part of the project, we promise. gonna show you how to used your fingers for guitar.”
geto chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “that’s right, princess. we’re just giving you a private lesson,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “all part of the creative process.” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “but i think we can teach you something far more... practical.”
choso hums in agreement, his fingers still teasing along the edge of your panties. “indeed. music theory is important, but sometimes...” his hand suddenly cups your mound, applying firm pressure. “...hands-on experience is necessary for real growth.”
geto smirks, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “what do you say, love? ready to expand your horizons and learn a new instrument?” his other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the side of your breast.
whimpers and squirms, you inhale sharply as choso’s hand boldly cups your most intimate area, his touch sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. your hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. a needy whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, your resolve crumbling under their relentless assault. geto’s fingers in your hair and teasing caress along your breast make it hard to think straight.
“i... i don’t...” you stammer, but your body betrays your true desires. your thighs tremble, pressing together as if seeking friction, and your nipples strain against the confines of your bra, begging for attention. “that— that’s not,” you protest weakly, even as your body betrays you, arching slightly into their touches. your face burns with humiliation and shameful arousal. “expand your horizon, my ass.”
geto’s fingers in your hair send tingles down your spine, and when he grazes the side of your breast, you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. “fuck,” you breathe, hating how weak you sound.
despite your feeble objections, you make no real effort to push them away or escape their groping hands. the heat building between your thighs grows harder to ignore with each passing second. geto grins wickedly, clearly reveling in your flustered state and half-hearted resistance.
choso chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddening exploration. he hooks a finger in the side of your panties, tugging them down just slightly. “see? nothing to worry about. just sit back and enjoy the music,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
geto leans in, his lips barely brushing against your ear. “unless you’d prefer to take the lead? show us what those talented fingers of yours can really do?” he suggests, his tone laced with challenge and desire.
choso grins wickedly, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to stroke your slick folds. “my my, someone’s already so wet,” he purrs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “and here i thought you were resisting.” geto chuckles darkly, his hand tightening slightly in your hair. “resistance is futile, princess. your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is playing catch-up.”
he leans in, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear before he nibbles on the lobe. “what was that about expanding your horizons again, princess?” he taunts, his other hand boldly cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh. “seems to me like you’re already getting a crash course in advanced techniques.”
he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing any further protests. his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as choso’s fingers begin to circle your clit with maddeningly light touches.
you moan into the kiss, your lips parting willingly as geto plunders your mouth. your tongue tangles with his, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. you find yourself kissing him back with growing fervor, your reservations melting away under the onslaught of sensation.
choso’s fingers work magic on your sensitive bud, circling and teasing until your hips are bucking shamelessly against his hand, chasing more of that delicious friction. wetness coats his digits as he easily glides through your slick folds, stroking along your entrance.
“ahh... fuck...” you gasp as geto breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dizzy with need. your head falls back against choso’s shoulder, exposing the column of your throat.
geto smirks against your lips, clearly relishing your wanton response. “that’s it, princess. let go,” he encourages huskily, his hand sliding down to join choso’s between your thighs. together, they work in tandem, geto’s fingers joining choso’s to tease and explore your most intimate places.
“feel that?” choso murmurs, his fingers curling inside you, stroking along your inner walls. “this is just like playing a string instrument. you have to be precise, know exactly where to touch...” he demonstrates by finding that special spot deep inside, rubbing firmly. at the same time, geto’s thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles.
“mmm, and you’ve got to vary your rhythm,” geto adds, his voice a sinful purr.
behind you, choso takes advantage of your exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. his fingers never cease their ministrations, now two digits sinking knuckle-deep inside your tight heat. he curls them just so, rubbing against that same special spot within you. “how about that, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a sinful rasp against your ear. “this is called the g-spot. it’s the key to creating the most beautiful melodies.”
a loud, shameless moan tears from your throat as choso hits that perfect spot inside you, his fingers curling just right. your back arches, pressing your breasts more fully into geto’s palm as he kneads the soft mounds.
“oh god— thaaat’s— shit!” you keen, your hips rolling shamelessly against their skilled hands. the dual stimulation of choso’s fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt and geto’s thumb circling your clit has you seeing stars. your inner muscles flutter and clench around the invading digits, trying to draw them deeper.
geto chuckles darkly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest pressed against your side. “listen to those pretty sounds you’re making,” he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “like a symphony of pleasure.”
“indeed,” choso agrees, his own voice thick with lust. “she’s quite the instrument.” he increases the pace of his thrusts, fingers pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy with increasing urgency. “let’s see how high she can sing.”
geto redoubles his efforts as well, his thumb working overtime on your throbbing clit while he tweaks and teases your nipples. “come on, baby girl,” he coaxes, his breath hot against your ear. “give us that sweet release. let the music move you.”
the dual assault proves too much, your climax cresting like a tidal wave. a strangled cry rips from your throat as your body seizes up, back bowing as ecstasy crashes over you. choso and geto continue to work you through it, coaxing out every last tremor and spasm.
your entire world narrows to the intense sensations coursing through your body as you come undone. waves of pleasure radiate outward from your core, leaving you quivering and gasping for air. “ahh! oh fuuuck...” you wail, your voice raw and desperate as your orgasm rips through you. your inner walls clench rhythmically around choso’s plunging fingers, milking them for all they’re worth.
choso grins wickedly, his fingers picking up speed, plunging in and out of your sopping wet cunt. “that’s it, baby. let me hear that sweet music,” he growls, his thumb coming up to rub tight circles on your clit.
through the haze of bliss, you dimly register geto’s triumphant grin against your cheek, his praise and encouragement spurring you onward. even as the aftershocks slowly ebb, choso and geto keep you suspended on that razor’s edge, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a boneless, spent mess in their arms. when the final tremors subside, you collapse against choso, panting heavily.
choso holds you close, his strong arms cradling your trembling form as you struggle to catch your breath. “exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. “a true masterpiece.”
geto, in front of you, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “not bad for a beginner lesson,” he remarks, his gaze roving over your flushed, disheveled state. he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “but we’re far from finished. there are still so many notes left to play, so many melodies yet to compose.” his hand trails down your spine, tracing the curve of your lower back before settling on your hip.
choso chuckles, his fingers still buried inside you, gently stirring your sensitive insides. “let’s see how well our little protégée handles some more...advanced techniques.” he leans in, biting and sucking at your neck, determined to leave marks of possession. his free hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you steady.
without warning, geto captures your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your desperate moans. behind you, choso scissors his fingers, stretching you wider, preparing you for something bigger. “brace yourself, princess,” geto growls against your mouth, his tongue delving deep to claim yours in a ruthless kiss. his other hand snakes around to cup your breast once again, squeezing the soft flesh roughly as he bites down on your bottom lip.
choso continues to work his fingers in and out of your stretched opening, scissoring and curling to hit all the right spots. “ready for the next piece?” he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. “we’re going to add some strings to really make her sing.”
your mind reels from the overwhelming sensations, struggling to process the torrent of pleasure coursing through your veins. the feeling of being stretched and filled by choso’s fingers is almost unbearable, your body acutely aware of every subtle shift and movement.
geto pulls back from the kiss, his chest heaving with desire. “that’s right, let’s give her a full orchestra,” he agrees, his eyes blazing with hunger. “i’m thinking a nice, thick violin for her ass...”
when geto claims your mouth in a brutal kiss, you melt into it, surrendering to the dominant passion he exudes. his hand on your breast sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making you ache for more.
you whimper against his lips, lost in the haze of lust. the thought of geto taking you from behind, filling you with his thick cock, has you squirming in anticipation. as if reading your mind, choso withdraws his fingers with a lewd pop, leaving you empty and wanting. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
they help you stand, with a shared look of carnal intent, both men begin shedding their clothing, revealing lean, muscular bodies honed from years of intense training. their cocks spring free, hard and proud, already leaking precum in anticipation.
geto lean closer, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly peels away his shirt, exposing his chiseled chest and abs. “time to put that ass of yours to good use, princess,” he purrs, his cock bobbing with each step.
choso follows suit, stripping off his garments with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving your body. “we’re going to fill you up so completely, you won’t know where one of us ends and the other begins,” he promises, his voice dripping with sensual promise. together, they guide you to the couch across the music room before peeling the clothes and skirt off your body.
on the couch, geto grips your hips firmly, guiding you onto his lap so you straddle him facing forward. your bare cunt hovers inches above his rigid cock, the head nudging your slick entrance. choso steps closer, his erection jutting out proudly from his groin, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
“let’s hear that beautiful song again,” choso purrs, reaching down to run his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. he lifts your leg, placing your foot on the armrest beside geto, further exposing your sex to him.
geto’s eyes darken with primal needs as he notches the head of his dick at your entrance. “time to ride this melody, my sweet,” he rasps, his hands gripping your thighs as he starts to push upward, sinking into your heat inch by delicious inch.
a shuddering gasp escapes your lips as geto’s thick cock slowly impales you, stretching your inner walls to accommodate his impressive size. the sensation of being filled so deeply is intoxicating, your body instinctively clenching around him.
“oh shiiit! —fuck!” you manage to stammer, your head falling back on his shoulder in ecstasy as geto bottoms out inside you. the pressure is exquisite, bordering on pain, but you crave more.
choso watches intently, his own cock twitching with anticipation. “look at her take it so beautifully,” he comments, his voice laced with awe and desire. “such a perfect fit.” geto begins to thrust and you start to rock your hips, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.
choso’s cockhead brushes against your lips insistently, smearing them with his musky essence. “open wide, princess,” he coaxes, his voice husky with need. “let’s synchronize our movements and create a truly symphonic experience.” without waiting for any response, he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his thick length past your lips. “that’s it, wrap those pretty lips around my cock,” he encourages, one hand tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “let’s see how well you multitask.”
behind you, geto’s thrusts pick up pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he hilts himself fully inside you with each powerful stroke. the dual stimulation of his thick shaft dragging along your inner walls and choso’s hardness prodding your mouth has you dizzy with lust.
“fuuuck, she feels incredible,” geto groans, one hand sliding up your torso to palm your breast roughly. he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging through your nerves.
overwhelmed by the dual assault on your senses, you moan wantonly around choso’s cock, the vibrations adding an extra layer of sensation. your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you bob your head, taking him deeper into your throat with each pass.
geto’s relentless thrusts are hitting that special spot inside you dead-on, stoking the fire building in your core. the combination of his cock pounding your g-spot and choso’s member filling your mouth has you teetering on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.
your nails dig into choso’s thighs as you grind back against him, meeting geto’s thrusts with equal fervor. the obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, mingling with your muffled moans and the creaking of the couch beneath you.
choso grunts in pleasure as your throat constricts around him, your enthusiasm evident in the way you take him so eagerly. “that’s it, just like that,” he praises breathlessly, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to shallowly fuck your face. “such an obedient little instrument, playing our tune perfectly.”
behind you, geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. one hand moves from your breast to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
geto leans in close, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he pants hotly against your skin. “listen to those slutty sounds you’re making,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust that has your vision whiting out momentarily. “you are doing a good, sunshine, pretty sure we will get an A+ for this project.”
the dual stimulation proves too much to bear. with a keening cry muffled by choso’s cock, “gonna cum. . . hng! cum—”, your body trembles and quakes as the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, poised to snap at any moment. geto’s skilled fingers on your clit combined with his relentless thrusts prove too much to bear.
with a strangled cry, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles clamp down on geto’s pistoning shaft, rippling along his length as you come undone. the force of your climax has you seeing stars for the second time, your entire being consumed by white-hot ecstasy.
choso groans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest as he feels your throat flutter around him. “fuck yes, milk my cock just like that,” he demands, his hips stuttering as he nears his own peak.
as your body convulses in the throes of your intense orgasm, geto hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm around him, grinding against your cervix as he rides out your intense orgasm. “shiiit—” he snarls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.
choso buries himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his breaking point. with a guttural moan, he starts to unload, thick ropes of cum shooting directly down your gullet. “swallow every drop, princess,” he commands breathlessly, his hips rocking shallowly as he empties himself in your mouth.
geto continues to grind against you, drawing out your climax as long as possible. once choso pulls out, they switch position with now you sit on choso’s lap while geto kneeling on the couch behind you, ass slight in the air and back arched towards choso. “now, now, your ass need an instrument too, no?” he remarks, the tip of his cock kissing the puckered lips of your ass.
choso smirks at geto’s suggestion, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust. “mm, i like the way you think,” he purrs, reaching around to spread your ass cheeks wider, exposing your tight rosebud to geto’s hungry gaze. “let’s give our little muse here a full symphony, shall we?”
he leans in, trailing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder as his hands roam your curves possessively. “just relax, baby,” choso murmurs against your skin, nipping lightly. “we’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
geto positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips possessively. the blunt head of his cock pressing insistently against your virgin hole, coated in your mixed fluids. he spits crudely into his palm, using it to slick up his shaft before rubbing the spit-slicked tip around your rim teasingly. “relax, sunshine,“ he murmurs, his thumb massaging small circles on the soft skin of your hips. “let me in nice and easy.”
with a gentle but persistent pressure, geto starts to sink into your tight heat, his girth stretching you deliciously. choso bucks up slightly, his still-harden cock sliding between your cunt as if seeking friction.
“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans low in his throat as he slowly sinks deeper into your tight heat, savoring the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him inch by delicious inch. “holy shit, you’re like a vice around my cock,” he grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you with a final, powerful thrust.
choso watches the erotic sight with hooded eyes, his own arousal growing as he feels geto’s cock slide against his through the thin barrier of your pussy wall. he rocks up against you, creating delicious friction. “goddamn, i can feel every twitch of your greedy little holes," he purrs, his voice rough with desire.
a sharp gasp escapes your lips as you feel geto’s thick length slowly sink into your virgin hole, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. the initial burn quickly gives way to intense, toe-curling pleasure as your body adjusts to the new intrusion.
“oh god, oh fuck,” you moan brokenly, your head falling back against choso’s shoulder as he peppers your neck with hot kisses and bites. your hands scrabble for purchase on his muscular arms, nails digging into the firm flesh.
the dual sensation of choso’s hard cock rubbing against your sensitive walls and geto’s thick shaft buried deep in your ass is almost too much to handle. every movement sends shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your oversensitized body.
geto sets a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he fucks into your tight heat with increasing intensity. the lewd squelch of lube and your natural lubrication fills the room, mixing with your wanton moans and the creak of the couch beneath you.
choso takes advantage of your distracted state, his hands moving to roughly palm your breasts, tweaking and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he grinds up against you harder.
“that’s it, take it just like that,” geto growls, one hand took a fistful of your hair as he pounds into you from behind while the other pushing the hard wall, looking for a balance. the added stimulation has your walls clamping down on both their cocks like a silken fist.
lost in a haze of overwhelming pleasure, your body moves on pure instinct, rocking back to meet geto’s powerful thrusts while grinding down onto choso’s hardness. incoherent moans and pleas spill from your lips, swallowed by choso’s demanding kisses, arms wrapped around his neck.
the intense dual stimulation has your mind short-circuiting, all thoughts dissolving into a sea of blissful sensation. your inner walls ripple and squeeze around the two hard shafts stretching you so deliciously, as if trying to pull them even deeper.
“just— fucking gooood!” you manage to gasp out between kisses, too far gone to care how desperate you sound. “want... want to feel you everywhere...“ your hands clutch at choso’s shoulders, nails raking down his sweat-slicked skin.
choso breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “look at you, so beautiful when you’re fucked silly, completely lost in pleasure,” he rasps, his voice dripping with seduction. “keep taking what you need, baby girl.” he rolls his hips, grinding his cock against your clit with deliberate intent, sending jolts of electricity through your overstimulated nerves.
geto increases his pace, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room as he slams into your ass with abandon. the couch creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts, but neither of them seems to care about the potential damage.
the combination of geto’s brutal pace and choso’s calculated stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.
“fuck, your ass was made for my cock,” geto grunts, his grip on your hip tightening. “so damn tight and perfect.” he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “i’m going to fill you up so good, sunshine.”
geto’s words send a shiver down your spine, your entire body tensing as the coil of pleasure within you winds tighter and tighter. choso senses your impending climax, his hands roaming your curves with renewed urgency as he kneads and squeezes, coaxing you higher.
“come on, princess,” choso coaxes, his voice a low, sultry purr. “give us what we want. let go and soak us with your sweet cream.” he nibbles at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his own release. “shit, shit, shiiit, i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained with effort.
overwhelmed by the relentless assault on your senses, you teeter precariously on the brink of orgasm, every nerve ending alight with electrifying pleasure. geto’s guttural warnings only heighten your anticipation, knowing that his impending climax will trigger your own.
“please,” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the ragged sounds of your own panting. “want to come... need to...” choso’s skilled touch and the tantalizing drag of his cock against your sensitive clit prove to be the final push, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. your inner walls clamp down like your life depends around both cocks, milking them for all they’re worth as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you.
geto lets out a hoarse roar as your tight ass squeezes him mercilessly, your spasming walls trigger his own release. his own climax barreling down on him like a freight train. with a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside you, he floods your ass with jet after jet of hot cum. “oh, shit— fuck, naughty girl,” he bellows, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself deep inside you.
choso follows suit moments later, his own orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tidal wave. “’m coming!” he snarls, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grinds against you with desperate urgency. his cock twitches and spurts, painting your insides with his scorching seed.
the three of you collapse together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, the aftermath of your shared climax leaving you boneless and sated.
as the aftershocks of your orgasms fade, geto carefully pulls out of your ass, a small amount of cum leaking out and trailing down your thigh. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “well, that was a hell of a private lesson,” he says, giving your plump rear a gentle pat before rising to his feet.
choso, still nestled against you, lazily strokes your side, his touch warm and comforting. “we’ve definitely got a special grade now,” he muses, a note of possessiveness creeping into his tone. geto chuckles, moving to sit beside you both on the couch. “definitely,” he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tender gesture that belies his earlier roughness.
after everything, reality hits you. you’ve always sworn up and down that you hate emo boys, yet here you are, caught in an intimate moment with the two of them. now, you’re on the other side of the music room, hurriedly putting your clothes back on, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. you refuse to meet their eyes, sulking as you keep your back to them, still stealing a glare over your shoulder every now and then.
geto and choso just exchange an amused look, clearly unbothered by your attempt to distance yourself. they’re still lazily getting dressed, each of them watching you with a smirk, fully aware of the effect they’ve had on you.
geto smirks deepen as he continues watches you from across the room, clearly amused by the icy glares you’re shooting his way. he leans casually sits on the couch armrest— arms crossed, the smug look on his face telling you he’s entirely unbothered by your attempt to ignore them. beside him, choso chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he pulls his shirt back on, clearly sharing in the satisfaction of riling you up.
“oh, come on, princess,” geto drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of it.”
choso grins, tilting his head as he watches you adjust your shirt, still refusing to look at them. “yeah, don’t be such a sore loser,” he teases, his tone light but with that familiar hint of mischief. “you’re the one who kept us in check, remember? it’s not our fault you had fun.”
you shoot them both a final glare, cheeks still hot as you mutter, “i hate emo boys,” as if trying to convince yourself more than them. but they can see through it, both of them chuckling at your attempt to regain control.
geto and choso exchange another amused glance, knowing all too well that your muttered remark was more for your own benefit than theirs. they’re amused by your stubbornness, your desperate attempts to cling to control, even after they’ve seen the flushed look in your eyes, the way your body responds to their touch.
choso tugs his shirt fully on, his eyes roving over you as he takes in your disheveled state. “sure, princess,” he teases, his voice dripping with irony. “we totally believe you.”
geto pushes himself off the armrest, sauntering closer to you with a slow, confident swagger. he comes to a stop in front of you, his smirk widening as he looks down at you in mock sympathy. “oh, you poor thing. you must be so flustered and confused.”
he reaches out, lightly tracing a finger along the edge of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft but mocking. “it’s normal to have conflicting emotions.”
you slap his hand away, a scowl firmly set on your face. “fuck off,” you snap, voice dripping with annoyance. geto just chuckles, clearly unphased, his smirk only widening as he steps back with that same infuriating calm.
“such hostility,” he teases, mockingly clutching his chest as if wounded. “and here i thought we were bonding.” you roll your eyes and turn your back to him, muttering under your breath about how annoying he is. meanwhile, choso, still lounging nearby, watches with a grin, clearly amused by the banter.
geto’s smirk only grows wider at your scowl and sharp retort. he steps back, arms raised in a gesture of mock surrender, though his eyes are still filled with that same mocking glee. “oh, princess, you really are so spirited.”
he glances over to choso, who’s still watching with undisguised amusement. “you really do know how to pick ‘em,” he mutters, chuckling. choso grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “yep,” he agrees. “she’s definitely a handful. but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”
you gasp in mock offense, turning to face geto fully. your backhand thumps against his chest, a playful but firm push, and your eyes narrow with feigned indignation. “pick me? what am i, a stray?” you ask, your voice teasing, lips curled into a pout as you look up at him with exaggerated shock.
geto simply rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, unfazed. he bends down, grabbing his bag from the floor with a lazy motion, effortlessly slinging it over one shoulder. his eyes gleam with amusement as he drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, his body warmth pressing against yours. “let’s go get you some ice cream,” he says, his voice smooth, dripping with playful sarcasm. his smirk only deepens as he adds, “maybe it’ll cool those anger issues of yours.”
you feel the weight of his arm around you, the proximity of his body stirring something familiar in you, but you don't let it show. choso, who’s been silently watching this little exchange with his usual mischievous grin, lets out a low chuckle. “yeah, ice cream’s on him for calling you a stray,” he teases, his voice light and playful as he steps up beside you, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.
as you start walking, you feel the tension of the earlier moments dissipate, replaced by the lighthearted banter between the three of you. despite your irritation, there’s a sense of warmth that settles in, and you can’t help but feel an odd mix of affection and frustration toward the two of them.
maybe, these emo boys aren’t as terrible as you thought.
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tojipie · 1 month ago
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content: suguru x fem reader, smut, filming sex
having the world’s most insatiable perv as a boyfriend meant satisfying his needs in the craziest ways
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“Oh my god that’s perfect,” Suguru whines, admiring your glistening body through his phone’s camera lense. The cold breeze of the living room fan contrasts with the glossy layer of oil he’d rubbed all over you earlier, goosebumps erupting up your thighs and back.
Your monthly photo shoots with your boyfriend seemed to be the least perverted thing Suguru had convinced you to do over the course of your relationship. Every bikini, every set of panties, and every tiny little skirt you brought home deserved got one— his sick little way of christening your wardrobe.
A simple black bikini had set him off this time, something simple you’d bought at the mall last week. You had tried so hard not to roll your eyes after he’d waltzed into your shared bedroom with the dangling from his fist, tempting you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.
“Please?” He whined, reaching for your hands to pull you up and out of bed. “For me?”
“..Fine,” you say sternly, knowing there was absolutely zero way he’d let you buy something skimpy without taking a couple pictures for his spank bank. You swear you spy him jumping up and down in your peripheral as you strip out of your pajamas.
And that’s —for better or for worse— how you’d ended up on the living room carpet with your boyfriend standing over you, covered in a thin sheen of body oil he’d tenderly massaged into your skin and staring right into the twin cameras on back of his cellphone.
“Fuck— stay like that,” Suguru marvels, adjusting his obvious hard-on through the fabric of his lounge pants.
“What? Like this?” You giggle, pulling at the middle of your bikini top to show more cleavage. The breathy noise it earns you is nothing short of adorable. Suguru shakes like a leaf as he snaps a few more photos, holding onto his sanity by a thread while all the blood in his body drains right into his dick.
You shade your eyes from the camera flash, blowing him a kiss from where you kneel on the carpet. Suguru kneels behind you, a wave of warmth radiating off of him as he reaches to move your hair across one shoulder.
A calloused palm on your back coaxes you face down onto the carpet, back arched with your thong-clad ass in the air.
“Shit…” he marvels. The tiny piece of fabric leaves so little to the imagination, settling in the rift between your lips perfectly.
You wiggle your ass back and forth in invitation, giggling as his thumb pulls the sticky thong to the side and rubs over your heat.
“Take a video, no?” you tease, feeling a thick finger slide into you as the man behind you groans in earnest. Suguru slips his thumb out of you slowly, bringing his hand to your mouth to have you suck his finger for the camera.
“I’m never deleting this— never— fuck,” Suguru groans, dragging the pad of his thumb across your tongue. You hear him save the video before whipping his phone onto the couch, using his free hand to pull his cock out and slowly push into you from behind.
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hellokittyish · 2 months ago
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part one here.
★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?
but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.
“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”
“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.
“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”
“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.
“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”
shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.
“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”
and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.
so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"
and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.
"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.
and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.
and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.
and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…
“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”
taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47
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classyrbf · 3 months ago
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SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO
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SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity
INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.
He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.
And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.
Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.
Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.
Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.
“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.
He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.
“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.
“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.
“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.
He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”
His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.
And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.
“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.
“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.
“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.
“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.
The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.
You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.
Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.
“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.
Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.
“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.
His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”
As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.
“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.
“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.
“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.
“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”
You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.
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entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago
Text
Tradition.
Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader
Summary: the reader and Cregan go to King's Landing to support her nephew, Luke's, Velaryon claim. She goes into early labor away from the North.
Warnings: Aegon is his own warning, body shaming, talks of brothels and stuff, labor, blood, death, fighting, all that stuff.
A/n: Based on an ask! I'll proofread later 😭
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Cregan held out his hand to help his very pregnant wife out of the carriage. 
He absolutely hated riding by carriage. It seemed pointless when you could ride a horse instead. But when summoned to King's Landing by King Viserys with his Targaryen wife to join the rest of her family, he had to guarantee her safety on the travel by any means necessary.
Alicent's face lit up at the sight of her daughter, practically running over Cregan to get to her. She embraced the pregnant woman tightly, "Oh, my love! How you've changed!" 
Y/n hugged her mother back just as firmly with a smile, "I've missed you, mother."
Alicent pulled away and admired her grown girl, "King's Landing is better with you here." Only then did Alicent notice Cregan, "Oh. Lord Stark."
Cregan bowed his head politely, "My queen."
"Cregan has been eager to see King's Landing again," Y/n chirped in, "He has only been a few times."
Alicent's brows lifted, "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."
He nodded, "I could've been patient enough to wait until after the birth, but alas, when the King calls, you answer."
Alicent gave a forced smile, "Right. Of course. The birth." She looked to her daughter, "How far along are you, my dear?"
"Nearing eight moons now," she said nervously with a hand on her swollen stomach.
Alicent didn't miss the equally nervous and protective look in Cregan's eyes.
Dinner that night was beyond tense. 
What was joy for Viserys was misery for everyone else.
Watching the king decay at the table and the rest of them squabble over trivial matters that seemed of great importance.
"A toast to the young princes and their betrothed."
Aegon leaned over to his nephew Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."
A glare was sent his way by Jace and Baela.
Y/n caught on and quickly looked to Aemond, who sipped his wine with no reaction.
"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon continued. "At least, in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"
Jace's jaw clenched, "You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."
"Aegon." Y/n hissed through her teeth across the table.
His head immediately snapped to his sister in annoyance, "What?"
"Let it alone."
He scoffed lightly, "What do you mean? I'm only asking." He gained a grin, "It's not like I have to ask Lord Stark that. Look at the state of you!" He gestured to her swollen belly.
Cregan's grip on his fork tightened, turning his knuckles white. 
She placed a hand over her stomach and grimaced, "At least I was able to find a husband that wanted me. Mother had to force you to marry the only girl around, and that was Helaena."
Aegon gave an incredible glare, one that his sibling shot back.
Aemond became amused.
"Let us not fight at the table," Alicent reprimanded lightly.
Y/n looked to Jace, who gave a small nod of gratitude.
Silence filled the room until the King's long monologue of the need for peace in the house. 
Rhaenyra and Alicent gave small and seemingly back-handed toasts but Y/n was too set on the continuous mischievous look in her brother's eye.
And she called it right when he stood and moved to whisper in Baela's ear.
It was clear that it was muttered with the intention of riling up Jace, which it did quite well.
He stood up in anger, slamming his fist on the table.
Cregan, who had remained entirely silent thus far, instinctually moved a hand across his wife as if shielding her and the child.
The tense toasts only got worse from there.
Luckily, the music seemed to drown out the intensity, as well as Jace's good gesture of faith in dancing with Helaena. 
Y/n leaned over to Aemond, "Brother."
His brow raised as his eye traveled to look at her.
"It has been… long since I've seen you. I see you've faired quite well."
He hummed lightly, "I see you've… managed."
She could feel Cregan's intense gaze from behind her, "Wh…what do you mean?"
Aemond smirked and leaned in to where only the two Starks could hear him, "Inpregnanted by a brute-"
Cregan's jaw clenched so hard he feared for his teeth. His voice was a hushed whisper, but still held furiously to it, "Watch your words."
Y/n held Cregan's shoulder, "Let us not do this here."
Aemond smirked with Cregan sighed and leaned back in his chair.
When Viserys was escorted from the room due to his pain, Y/n decided to leave as well, and Cregan behind her.
They claimed a pregnancy illness and Rhaenyra smirked, knowing she'd used the same card many times.
Cregan helped her into bed, "I don't understand their need to crawl under everyone's skin like beetles."
She sighed, "They've never known life outside of a castle, Cregan. They've never been told no, and they never will. It's best to let it go."
"They mock us both. My name has been through dirt, blood, and tears, and I do not care, but yours?" He scoffed, "I will not stand by the next time you are mocked."
"It is only for a little while longer," she rebutted.
"Know that I do this for you, and only you, my love."
She smiled, "That's all I ask."
"The north has done a number on you, really," Aegon said as he appeared at her side.
She tilted her head, "I don't know what you mean."
He shrugged, "You're…" he then gestured his arms widely. "I dunno… well indulged?"
She pushed down the tears that welled up in her eyes, "Why do you care?"
He scoffed and leaned in towards her, "You know how many friends of mine asked for whores that looked like you? Many."
"And?"
"And?" He asked mockingly. "And? Who wants to fuck a whore that looks like you now?"
Her jaw went slack for a moment, completely shocked by his words. 
Finally, with now watery eyes, she spoke. "You're the worst kind of man, Aegon."
"Oh? And what kind is that?"
A sudden punch came from nowhere, landing on Aegon's jaw and sending him to the ground. 
Cregan stood over the man's body, a predatory look in his eyes and a murderous tone in his voice, "One that can't defend his fucking words."
Y/n pulled Cregan back, "Stop!"
He wanted to fight against her, but he knew better. His shoulders rolled back and he stood tall. 
She cursed under her breath as she took in exactly what had unfolded, "They could have your head for this, Cregan."
"Only if your brother wishes to defend his words against me again," Cregan scoffs as he looks down at the man.
Aegon sits up and huffs, wiping his nose that begins to leak blood. "Northern brute-"
"-Aegon!" She reprimands. 
Cregan glared at Aegon for a while, then scoffed and walked off a few steps to calm himself.
Aegon stands on shaky legs as he glares at his sister, "I liked you better when you lacked a guard dog."
Cregan immediately turned back to the man with a look that said he was ready to murder him. As he stepped forward, Aegon stepped back as he began to regret his words.
"Take me to our chambers, Cregan," she lightly pleaded. 
The wolf of the north only stared for a while before nodding, "Lead the way."
She sighed as she gave a final look to her brother. "Clean yourself up. You look like shit."
Standing behind Rhaenyra, Y/n and Cregan whispered idly to Daemon when someone would comment something out of hand. 
Luke's legitimacy was coming into question, and though the Starks knew the truth, they would not dare pry the inheritance from the boy's hands. That was not their place. So next to Daemon they stood as petitions were made to and against him.
Daemon leaned in to speak to Y/n, "how far along did you say you were?"
"Eight moons now," she whispered back.
Daemon let out a surprised grunt. "You're to have the child here then? That seems unlike you."
"Uncle, my father insisted I come, and I have. Whether the child is born in the North or the South, it is a Targaryen and Stark all the same."
He smiled lightly, "I suppose you're right. If you wish for someone to accompany Lord Stark to the dragon pit to choose a proper egg for the child, only say the word."
Cregan, who had been listening quietly, now leaned in, "I am to choose an egg?"
"It is tradition," she explained. "It can be before, during, or after the birth, but the father chooses the egg. If… If you would wish to continue that tradition."
He grinned, "I'd be delighted to try."
When Vaemond Valaryon stepped up forward to speak his mind, the Starks quieted. 
He spoke in anger, trying to take Luke's right. 
Y/n looked past him to her mother and siblings. 
Aegon looked like he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't care the outcome of this ordeal. Aemond watched intensely with his one eye, taking in every detail. And Helaena… sweet Helaena. 
She needed to visit her and the children soon.
"And her children are…" Vaemond paused.
The room stilled.
"Say it," Daemon whispered under his breath.
"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed.
Y/n jumped back in surprise as Cregan's steady hands caught her waist.
"And she. Is. a. Whore." Vaemond finished.
The air in the room stilled and became stuffy as the tension reached an all time high.
Viserys stood on unstable legs as he unsheathed his dagger, "I will have… your tongue for this."
A sudden slice moved through the air, and half of Vaemond's head was gone.
Blood splattered across the ones' nearest, meaning the Starks. Cregan let out an annoyed grunt.
"He can keep his tongue," Daemon said proudly as he lowered his sword.
Y/n rested a hand over her swollen stomach with a shaky hand, trying to ignore the blood that began to seep into her clothes. 
Cregan leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you alright?"
"I… I want to go," she shuddered back.
He nodded, looking around as the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. He held a hand firmly against her back as she became to let out an uncomfortable whine.
"Cregan, please," she whispered.
"Alright. Alright, let's go, my love," he said as he tried to move her through the crowd.
But her legs faltered as she let out a pained noise.
He caught her in panic, "Are you in pain?"
"The babe…"
No longer caring for proper manners, Cregan stood tall and looked over the crowd. "MOVE!" He yelled out.
The people quieted and moved as Cregan helped his wife through the room and out of the doors.
Alicent only saw a brief glimpse of her daughter's silver hair go through the doors, and she was on edge. She ran through the crowd to follow behind them.
He held onto his wife's arm with one hand and held her waist with the other, trying to support her as they moved to their chambers.
Y/n let out a gasp, and her water broke.
Alicent caught up to them and grabbed her daughter's other arm. "It's alright. You're alright." She turned to a servant and ordered him to get the maester. 
Sweat began to break out of the poor woman's forehead as the weight of what is happening began to settle. 
Once on her bed, Cregan refused to move from her side, Alicent as well. Alicent rubbed soothingly across her daughter's forehead as Cregan paced at the foot of the bed.
The maester and midwives came quickly, immediately moving to the woman in labor.
"My lord, it is best if you remain outside," one of them said.
Cregan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Out… Outside?"
Alicent chipped in, "It is tradition. The husband waits outside of the doors."
He stared at Y/n in thought. Tradition. How that word weighed on them like boulders. 
"Alright."
He tried to ignore the sounds of her cries as he stood in the corridor. 
Nothing could ease his worries. 
In the North, it was not uncommon to be by their wife's side. 
This was unusual to him.
"My lord," a midwife questioned as she poked her head from the room.
His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"
"The child is… having trouble, my lord."
That was Cregan's greatest fear. The maester in Winterfell had spent endless hours with Cregan to determine a plan for if such a thing were to occur. Now he was without a plan entirely.
"Alright?" He finally breathed.
"What do you wish for us to do?"
"What options do I have?" He spoke barely above a whisper.
The midwife gave him an empathetic look. "We can cut the child out-"
"-No." He was quick with his answer, the very thought of taking a blade to her seeming the greatest sin he could commit.
"Um… it will be painful, but we can help her force the child out."
"Is that safe for her?"
The midwife shrugged lightly, "More than any other option I can give you."
He nodded.
She gave a weak smile and moved back into the room, but Cregan caught the door before it closed and forced his way in.
At the sight of his wife, he felt as if a blade went into his own stomach.
She was crying in pain, the midwives forcing her hips down as she tried to move away from the pain, as if that was possible.
At the sight of him, her entire face relaxed, "Cregan…"
He moved to her side, "I'm here. How can I help?"
Alicent glared slightly at him. 
"They won't… I can't…" Y/n whimpered out.
"They won't what?" He looked up to Alicent, "What are they doing?"
"She wishes to get up. We cannot have her standing," she explained.
Cregan was thrown off by that. "She cannot? W… Why ever not?" When in labor with him, Cregan's mother was said to have walked the length of Winterfell 3x over. 
"It hurts… please, Cregan…" 
He nodded as his expression hardened. "Let her stand."
The maester shook his head, "She is nearing the labor. She should not-"
"-She wishes to stand. She will stand."
Alicent spoke up. "Lord Stark-"
"-This is my wife and child. If she wishes to walk, then she will," he barked. 
A fire lit behind the queen's eyes. "She will not."
The midwives watched the tension grow.
Finally, Cregan calmly reached down and began to help his wife sit up.
Alicent cursed under her breath and grabbed Cregan's wrist in an effort to stop him.
Cregan's eyes slowly moved up to Alicent's face as anger began to overcome him. 
But she was first to speak. "You are no longer in the North. You abide by our traditions when you are here."
He'd heard enough of that word for a lifetime. 
His words came out sharper than he intended, but he cared little to soften them. "Your family is made of vipers and cutthroats. When I take my wife and child back to Winterfell, it will truly be a miracle if you ever see them again, for I will not let her sit and be neglected and tormented. I am a brute, but I am not without heart. Now, Let. Go."
Alicent reluctantly let go.
Cregan helped Y/n sit, and she immediately felt relief. "I want to walk," she panted.
He nodded, practically holding her up as she stood. "We will walk the corridor and return." His voice had no room for argument.
Once they paced the corridor a few times, she was returned to the bed, only to find that Alicent had left. Cregan only cared about it when he noticed the tinge of sadness that moved over his laboring wife.
But he was quick to fill the gap. As she moved back to the bed, Cregan sat behind her and held her against his chest, messaging anywhere that began to ache.
The labor came soon after that. Cregan held her close as she screamed in pain and gripped his wrists. She surely left bruises.
"The babe is crowning, princess," the midwife exclaimed. "Keep pushing."
The pain came in waves that made her see white. 
Cregan began to panic when the midwives gave one another a look. "What?"
"She is not pushing hard enough."
Y/n began to cry in frustration.
"She is pushing," Cregan sighed. "What else is there to do?"
One of them reached up and began to push on her stomach, prompting the princess to cry harder as the pain multiplied. 
"Allow me," Cregan shifted her in his hold and carefully placed his hands where the midwife had, slowly applying pressure to the same place.
As Y/n screamed and cried, Cregan placed assuring kisses against her neck and cheek and whispered calming words to her. "You're doing well."
If the pain had not been so bad, she may have blushed.
Cregan held the baby close to his chest as his wife slept.
"My lord," a servant finally entered and interrupted the silence. "The queen has requested to see the child."
An annoyed feeling washed over the man. Of course, she wished to. 
The servant took note of his changed demeanor, "I can take-"
"-No," he countered. "I will go myself. Should my wife awaken in my absence, give her anything she desires."
His heavy feet stormed from the room and he walked to the queen's chambers.
Alicent turned and shock overcame her. "Lord Stark. I did not expect you to-"
"-Neither did I."
The two stared at one another for a moment before Alicent's eyes wandered to the bundle in the large lord's arms. "Healthy?"
"The very picture."
She nodded, unsure of what to say next.
"A boy," Cregan stated.
"A boy?" Alicent whispered. Any thoughts of annoyance were past to her, and she walked to the lord and eagerly looked at the child.
The baby was indeed the picture of health. Bright purple eyes looked up at the two. Dark hair sat atop his head.
"He's quite northern," she stated.
"Indeed." Cregan was sure she meant it as an insult, but he could care less. The thought of such a gift as a northern boy filled him with pride. 
"Congratulations, Lord Stark."
He nodded. "Your daughter is fine as well."
Alicent moved away from Cregan and sat down. "That is a blessing. To all of us. She will be a perfect mother."
"Aye, she will."
The tension between the two was evident, but they wouldn't let it dull the excitement of the newest addition to the line.
"I should return to my wife."
"Please, do."
Cregan moved to the door.
"Lord Stark?" She asked.
"Yes?"
Alicent stared at him and then the babe. "Thank you. For caring for her. And now him. You are a better man than most."
Cregan sighed. It wasn't a compliment, but it was something. "Thank you, my queen. She will want for nothing until my dying breath."
"This is all I wished for her."
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seumyo · 7 months ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48
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Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.
You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).
But this was Bakugou, after all.
And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.
Not a good sign.
“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.
Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.
He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.
“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”
“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”
Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.
He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.
“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”
“Absolutely not.” 
Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material. 
It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.
You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.
“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.
“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”
“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features. 
“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”
Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.
“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.
“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”
Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.
He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.
“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”
Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.
He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.
“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.
“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment. 
“Formula first before adding 1.3.”
He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.
“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”
“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”
He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.
“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”
“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.
Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.
His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”
“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.
Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.
He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.
With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.
It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe. 
Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.
He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”
“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”
Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.
“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.
“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”
Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another. 
“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”
He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.
“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents. 
Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.
“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”
His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.
“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.
Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”
“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.
Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.
His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.
His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.
Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.
Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come. 
“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.
Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“
“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”
By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”
“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.
“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”
“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“
“Delete that.”
“Hey— wai— no way!”
It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.
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