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felinecyan · 7 months ago

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Reality of Realizations

[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.

WC: 3559

Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto

This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶

『••✎••』

In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.

Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.

For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.

And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.

When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.

As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.

You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.

Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:

An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.

But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.

And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.

You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.

That guilt settled in.

He was a horrible person.

He had to make up for it.

And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.

The question was, how?

He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?

How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?

He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.

Surely, it would help.

After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.

Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.

He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.

Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.

He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.

Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.

He wanted to be your friend.

He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.

You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.

Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.

But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.

Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.

Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.

He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.

Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.

"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."

But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.

"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"

You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.

"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.

"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."

Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?

The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.

Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.

So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?

He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.

But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.

He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.

And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.

His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.

His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.

His mind continued to wander.

Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.

None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.

His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.

Birds.

Why does that remind him of something?

What do birds have to do with a gift?

He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.

And then, a memory flashed.

It was a rainy day, and you were late.

You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.

You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.

Luckily, it wasn't too far away.

Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.

And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.

You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.

When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.

You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.

A hairclip, to be specific.

You lost a hairclip.

It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.

He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.

You really cared.

You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.

And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.

If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.

Until now.

In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.

He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.

It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.

He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?

Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.

It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.

He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.

The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.

And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.

Oh, right, the apology.

He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.

But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?

Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.

He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.

Okay, how would he start?

Hi? No, that was too casual.

Hello? No, it's not formal enough.

Greetings?

No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.

He needed something more genuine, more real.

Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.

He cleared his throat again.

"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.

He started over.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."

This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.

"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."

He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.

"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."

Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.

He sighed.

Hopefully.

The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.

But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.

Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.

This is it, he thought—all or nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Here goes.

"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.

You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.

Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.

"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"

The question made him snap back into reality.

He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.

You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.

"What's this?"

"It's a gift."

Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.

"For... me?"

Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!

He shook his head.

"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."

You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?

You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.

"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.

"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.

So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.

"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."

When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.

And that smile. Oh, that smile.

He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.

"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.

You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.

"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."

Wait, was that a yes?

Was that a yes?!

Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.

"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."

You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.

"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."

You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.

"I can… um, help you with that if you want."

The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.

It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.

It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.

"You look nice," he told you.

"Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."

The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.

"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."

Mission make up with you: success.

The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.

Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.

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johnbrand · 6 months ago

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The Resort

It was another Friday afternoon at an exclusive, private resort. The only way to get to the property was by the resort’s own transportation, the bus filled with 40 or so gay men arriving promptly as always. They were typically chatty, the usual friendly-flirty with each other before they would begin bragging about their lifestyles and work. Bear or twink, hairy or hairless, lots of boasting and a few not-so-subtle hints that their relationships would be non-existent for the weekend.

I made sure to greet each of them as they entered the main building, handing them their room keys and identification badges. All of them were assigned separate rooms, although most joked they would not be using them over the weekend. I always withheld a chuckle at those remarks, knowing better than their catty ways. Each of them had been preselected, carefully selected from a database of all LGBTQ+ individuals in the city. When the invitation had been sent out, they had no idea that only gay men were invited to the resort.

Soon, it was time for the party to begin. Within the booming house music played my special audio track, humming pleasantly beneath the sexual chaos on the dancefloor. I always kept my eye on a particular guest over the course of their stay; I enjoyed watching an intimate progression throughout our time together. For this weekend I had chosen Nicki: a small, meek college student who found himself more often in a library than a club. The young boy was one of my favorite types to watch.

The shift itself is clear, if one knows what to look for. Some guys stood a little straighter, correcting the hip that had previously popped unconditionally. Shorts grew longer, and maybe a few stretched out into plain, baggy pants to display little effort in fashion. Abs tightened up, pecs twitched, and biceps pumped all around the party. But the men just assumed it was the lights and sweat playing tricks on their eyes. Had they always been able to so easily define each other’s muscles?

Slowly, things would begin to shift physically as the men would drift apart from each other. They had started the night playfully rubbing up against the other attractive, sexually-like minded creatures, but now they found themselves a bit more distanced, creating space out of respect and something else. Being so close to a man had sort of become…a bit nauseating.

Instead of playing with each other, they would eventually begin to play with themselves, whether they realized it or not. Hand crammed down their shorts, either softly pawing or stretching seams. Some were soon even grunting or mumbling slurs to themselves right in the middle of the dancefloor. The virility of such an act in public was becoming indifferent to them, they were being told it was simply a natural thing to do.

Most men were easily converted to more heterosexual destinies, but a few were often drug out of the spell accidentally. Take Nicki for example, who I spied as he backed away from the party. His pre-conceived caution had made him aware of the changes happening around him, although he had yet to realize he had been affected already too. Nicki had gained a few inches, and his shirt had magically evaporated to reveal two dense pillows above a rippling set of abdominals.

Nicki left the dancefloor as quietly as possible, assuming he could escape. But he could have never known the special audio had not been playing from the speakers, but instead the identification badge that had been handed to him upon arrival. It would be repeating the special audio as long as I wanted it too, brainwashing up until the moment they left to cause permanent results. The physical changes would be long finished by then, but the mental modifications took the full stay to hold.

After giving him a head start, I exited out an employee door to find our lost Nicki. About 30 minutes later I caught up to him, frantically rubbing his body down, hoping to somehow clean his acts. His muscles had grown even larger during our time apart, and an impressive funk was now registerable from my position a few feet away. During our time apart, Nicki had ejaculated to the thought of a woman. He did not realize that each future interaction with his thickening cock would reconnect that pleasure with the imagery in the female body. My programming instructed them that it felt good to adjust, give in to what was natural.

By the time the identification badges were collected, the 40 or so men who reloaded onto the bus were completely changed. Over the course of the weekend, the once rowdy gays of all ages had been converted into God-fearing, fag-jeering, chick-leering men. Although he would never know it, I possessed a fatherly pride watching Nick (the “i” at the end had disappeared as fast as submissive demeanor) ascend onto the bus. I waved as my newest group of guests were sent back to the city before instructing my employees to get to work. After all, we had our next batch arriving at the end of the week.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #dumbification #jock tf #unintended results

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ambrosiagoldfish · 1 year ago

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HI! Can I request Vox, husk or anyone else with a s/o who has an addiction problem?

Yes I know my Grammar and punctuation is out of line 🙏🏽

Hazbin Hotel x Addict!Reader

(Vox, Husk, and Angel Dust)

Viewer Discretion is Advised!

Warning: Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Gn!Reader, Reader being defensive, happy-ish endings.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1170

A/n: Hi! Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing both Vox and Husk so I had to do some research (and by research, I mean reading 2+ hours of how other write them) to get an idea of their main characterization.

I really enjoyed writing this as I personally have my own experiences with addicts and how it’s affected me as a person. So this was also a little bit of a vent post if anything. I also added Angel cause I think it fits the theme but also he’s one of my comfort characters and writing for him made me happy.

Hope you enjoy <3

Proofread like once so sorry for any mistakes!

Vox

He’s used to being friends/knowing addicts. I mean one of his closest allies (And TOTES not previous hook-up buddy) Valentino, is also an addict who also employs many as well. So he’s not a stranger to it.

So mostly he’s indifferent to it, almsot desensitized to it. He doesn’t really see a danger to it, I mean we’re in hell and you can’t exactly OD and die

But of course, death isn’t the only thing that can happen when you're an addict. The breakdown of you as a person often happens, as well as you being reckless with money. And this is where Vox starts to have a problem.

If you’re in a relationship with Vox, then clearly you mean a lot to him, he may not be the most expressive about it but he does. So to see the partner that he has opened up to and grown attached to deteriorate slowly in front of him is something he refuses to accept.

So one day he cancels a meeting with his staff and calls you to his office so you two will be alone. When you get there he gives you a cup of coffee and you catch up a bit. How was your day? Have you ate yet? Those kinds of things.

Until finally he decides to just break open the floodgates with one simple statement.

“Darling… I think you should get clean”

You were caught off guard at first

“It’s fine, What’s the problem? we’re in hell”

He then comes out with his honest opinion

“*Sigh* I know it’s hell and you can’t die… but surely you can see how it would make me a bit… worried for you.”

He paused

“I mean even last week you spent all the allowance I gave you on it and you would have starved if I didn’t buy you food, surely you can see why it’s a fucking problem!”

Eventually after talking and depending on how it goes you either agree to go clean or it ends with an argument and he’ll just try again later.

If you agree, he’ll make sure he’s with you ever step of your sobriety. Considering he’s one of the top rising Overlords and owns VoxTech he’s got money so He’ll higher the best people to help you go clean(Do therapist exist in hell?)

“Thank you dear, you have no idea how much this means to me”

Husk

Similar to Vox in a lot of ways but also really different. He himself is an addict with alcohol so he clearly understands the struggles of it.

He has lots of walls up but for someone who “lost the ability to love” he sure does care a lot for you. I don’t think he would try a get you to go clean, at least not right away (or even at the beginning of the relationship) simply cause he thinks he doesn’t have a right to judge. So in all honesty he might just let you be.

That is until he realizes that you do it to forget things and ignore your problems/past. He knew first hand that drowning your sorrows away with your choice of addictive vice did nothing but harm you.

Then when you two are alone at his bar he’ll talk to you about it in a similar way he did with Angel. Perhaps a bit more softer than he did with Angel but even then “softer” is a bit of an overstatement.

“Look, I know you got a lot of shit that you don’t want to think about… but doing this *sigh* it’s not going to work, at least not in the long term.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. I mean, you were right. He was single handedly the worst person to be judging you. But surely you can understand his point of view, right?

Either way though, he leaves it alone again. Occasionally bringing it up when you’re both alone. He expresses the same sentiment about it each time hoping that eventually, hopefully…you’ll come to see from his perspective.

When you do finally see that he’s worried for you and understand why, you agree to go clean. Which, for once in a long while, made his supposedly cold dead heart melt.

“Glad you finally came to your senses… Seriously, I’m glad…”

Angel

He is THE addict of the show, so obviously he knows what you are going through and THEN some. Now,. Here’s the thing, how he handles it depends HEAVILY on when exactly you got with him/when you started having you addiction problem.

If you started dating him when you already were an addict he most definitely wouldn’t question anything about it. Hell, chances are you both might have taken part in it together. And it’s only when he starts making progress in the hotel (post EP4) is when he starts realizing how bad of an influence you both were on each other.

If you started sometime AFTER you both started dating then this boy would honestly feel terrible about it, ESPECIALLY after EP4 when he actually started being sober more often. He’d feel like he was a bad influence on you and that it was his fault you turned to your addiction.

Either way though, he will eventually realize that he doesn’t want you to be/continue to be on the same path he was. He’d talk to Charlie about arranging you to stay in the hotel, either in your own room or you guys could share one (he would honestly prefer the latter) and then after the preparations are made he would finally ask you too

Angel wasn’t expecting it to be easy, he gets what it’s like to suddenly be asked to go clean. And he knows how addicts act when they don’t get there vices, how he acts. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst first before asking you to come over and talk.

“Uh… Y/n can I talk to you about somethin’?”

You nod your head

“I’ve been thinking and… I think you should crash here at the hotel with me… and’ go clean.”

You only laugh “Angie I’m glad this hotel thing is workin’ for ya but that’s not really my style. No- I mean, I’m fine!”

Angel knows he put you on the spot, so he lightens off a bit but continues pressing on. He explains how he feels and how he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, to end up where he is. The poor boy starts crying honestly with how much he’s worried. He rarely opens up to people so this was a big step for him.

Seeing how much he cared and worried about you really put into perspective how important this was to him. So you agreed after some thinking.

“*sniff* thank you Baby, I’ll be there with you every step of the way… I love ya’ you know.”

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omisubi · 6 months ago

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𓂅 SIDELINES — M. OSAMU

plot : You’re a model in Tokyo’s limelight that is crushing on your best friend’s brother. Except, your usual charm doesn’t work on the impassive cook.

contains: fluff, comedy, reader lacking flirting skills, osamu playing hard to get, atsumu being atsumu, 1.3k words.

Cameras seem to love you.

It’s what Osamu thinks when he sees you on the cover of yet another magazine that piles on top of many others. He turns on the restaurant’s TV and then there you are again on Japan’s Entertainment News. And there’s his brother right next to you.

You and Atsumu were notorious best friends. There were numerous photographs of the both of you at exclusive parties, always dressed to the nines, promoting whatever popular brand.

Of course, just like everyone, Osamu thought you were pretty. Gorgeous. Whatever. He believes you are most definitely annoying. Because who hangs out with Atsumu that much? He did it for eighteen years and he barely made it out alive and you’re voluntarily doing it? You’re insane for sure.

He’s made an effort to know more about your relationship with his brother. Dropping subtle asks to Atsumu like so I’ve seen you on the news with that model. New girlfriend? but oddly enough, Atsumu talks about you like a friend. A good one, at that. To Osamu’s surprise, Atsumu has said the words she’s like my sister.

So, there it was. His opinion of you: indifferent. Yet, there he was, finding himself freezing up when you walked into his store with a million dollar smile as you end your conversation with someone on the phone.

He tells himself its just shock so his calm demeanor comes back when you reach the counter.

When he looks up at you, you’re freezing up. He’s really.... handsome. Of course, he has the same face as Atsumu, but it’s different? Osamu’s confidence is calmly exuded, in contrast to Atsumu’s. His dark hair frames his face nicely under the cap. Wow, is all you’re thinking. His biceps flex as he reaches the tablet at the cashier. That black fitted shirt makes you wonder if half the customers come in just for him, just to stay for both the man and his good food.

“Miss?” The girl at the cashier is looking at you with a concerned expression. You realize you should be speaking, rather than ogling.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I—“

“Hana, could you take the trash out before you leave? I’ll make the order and close.”

“Sure.” She smiles at him, before eyeing you.

“What would ya like?” He asks you. And he almost sounds annoyed. Maybe because it’s a little late. Atsumu did warn you to not come this late, but your shoot just finished and you were starving.

You muster up the courage and with your most charming smile, you say, “Your number.” When it comes out of your mouth, you realize you might just be spending too much time with Atsumu, accidentally picking up his lack of flirting skills. Osamu stares at you. Confused. Unimpressed. So, you abruptly add, “3.” Cough. “Your number 3.. and a cup of green tea, please.”

He gives a nod before registering your cash in and you stand there to dwell on your humiliation.

As Osamu prepares your order he finds himself feeling a little smug because— Wow, you really have no game for someone with a face like that. It could be fun teasing you.

So, he does just that. Every time you come, he gets to play hard-to-get. He finds himself looking forward to Thursday nights. It’s the one day a week you consistently come. He gets to sees why you and Atsumu are friends. You both are somewhat the same, in most aspects. But first, you both are competent in everything but flirting. He gets to see that you’re pretty cute, blushing in front of him like he’s the celebrity.

You, on the other hand, are not having fun. Getting rejected was taking a toll on you. So this is what it’s like to pursue men? Your ego was deflating. Not only do you think Osamu doesn’t like you, you think Hana doesn’t either. Neither of them seemed to enjoy packing your three large orders of onigiri for your management team. They just seemed bothered and inconvenienced for the most part.

You grow sick of it, and it’s evident at your next shoot.

“Are ya sad he rejected you?” Atsumu asks, mocking your evident gloom. You’ve both just finished an athletic gear ad. “Buy tickets to my game. It’ll make ya feel better.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice pitch. But, no. I’m actually feeling rather ill,” you tell him.

It’s Atsumu’s turn to roll his eyes. “Get rejected once and suddenly you’re ill?”

You huff. “Heartbreak is a very serious thing.”

He chuckles. “Sure.”

His amusement doesn’t last long, because he realizes when another model comes in to take your place at the next shoot, that you really might have gone down with something. As an apology for brushing your health off (he realizes how important it is from being with Sakusa all the time), he sends the person he trusts most to you. The person just so happens to be the best at making great soup, too.

Osamu shows up to your apartment, awkward and nervous. He doesn’t know why he agreed too eagerly, even Atsumu had caught it. He could hear the smugness through the phone. But the truth is he missed you. Missed seeing your overly cheery self. Missed seeing you blush every time you two made eye contact in silence.

“Oh!” You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. Yeah, he missed seeing that smile too.“Hi.”

“Hey.” He puts a hand up to your forehead. “You’re burning up. I made you some soup.”

He watches the way your eyes light up, gasping as you look into the bag.

“Really?” When you peer into the plastic bag, you realize there’s two sets of everything. There is more than just soup. You look up to see him looking down, nervously shifting his feet.

“Can I… come in?”

You watch as Osamu heats up his fresh food and uses whatever scraps you have in your kitchen to prepare a proper meal.

“Are you going to feed me too?” You ask once you both are seated, utensils he took the liberty to set, amused to tease him. Before he can sputter out a retort, “Just kidding. Thank you. Really. And I’m sorry about bothering you the past few weeks. Your food is really good.”

Osamu raises a brow. Bother? You?

“You’re not—“

The microwave beeps.

“It’s done!” You say, excited to get some freshly made, hot food into your system.

The both of you spend the evening together, at your kitchen island. It’s terribly domestic, Osamu realizes, but he doesn’t mind. You both share stories. He learns that you’re not only a great friend to Atsumu, you’re a great person too. He respects the way you explain your career; that it’s not just about the serotonin from seeing your face on billboards and walls, it’s also about traveling and connecting with people. He likes the way you laugh, leaning into him like you’re sharing an intimate moment. He thinks you can make anyone feel at home, just being near you. He understands the draw of it all. Even on photo… he gets it; your allure. It’s the moneymaker all on its own.

“Thank you again.” You say as you walk him to the door.

“It was no problem.” I want to see you again. “See ya Thursday?”

You laugh. “Actually, you’ll be finally catch a break from me. I’m going out of town for a job soon.”

Osamu stops, turning to you. “Oh?”

You nod. “Yeah, for a week or two…”

He steps closer to you, causing you to slow your thinking. He puts a hand to your forehead. The cool of his skin making contact with yours sends you into a frenzy. “Sorry. My mom used to check again after we’d eat.”

You smile at the admission. “Why?”

He shrugs, murmuring, “I guess she wanted to see if her food cured us.”

Your heart swells.

“Well, I feel nothing short of the picture of perfect health.”

Osamu laughs. You feel like a teen again, blushing at the fact that there is a very hot guy in your apartment.

“Listen…” he plays with his sleeve. “When ya get back, can I take you out? I’d really like you bothering me.”

a/n: finally got this out of my drafts! maybe more of this couple in drabbles

#osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #osamu fluff

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andre-and-cal · 18 days ago

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Some sociopathic traits Cal Gabriel has,,

I don’t believe he was a sociopath. But I do believe he exhibited some shared tendencies to them.

When Cal was younger, he didn’t enjoy people very much.

The previously chubby-cheeked, little white blond boy began to display this distant look in his eyes as he slowly aged, which had started to show when he was around 2 to 3-years-old.

His reserved behavior was more prevalent when he was a kid. His parents remained unquestioning, though. Treating their son like any other normal boy. But could you really blame them?

Because not even Cal’s family members could read what was going on in his mind.

Birthday parties weren’t very fun either. Calvin felt overwhelmed by everyone standing around him, trying to get him to smile while singing him happy birthday, shoving presents toward his sour face. Fuck, the people his parents invited and who attended were so insufferable and nauseatingly energetic. He didn’t even want to do anything for his 18th birthday a few months before Zero Day. He just wanted to spend time with Andre— the bastard who mostly sees him for who he is. Around his teenage years, that was when the lingering anger began to sprout deep within him. And when he and Andre met, they clicked partially for this reason.

Calvin does get crushed by the invisible weight of his depression and experiences negative and positive feelings as well, though they’re less prominent and not necessarily how most people would typically assume. He experiences these feelings toward himself and toward Andre and his friends. And most of the time he doesn’t feel much toward other classmates— not unless it relates to his burrowed sadism, aggravation, disinterest, and contempt.

He likes Rachel, even though he grows defensive when she tries to nudge her nose into him and Andre’s business. Cal always plays it off as a joke, but there’s a subtle sense of sobriety in his eyes�� especially when he essentially told her to “leave town”.

He isn’t friends with very many people except for a few— those few including Andre. He’s known for being in the school band, and from being Rachel’s friend, but that’s really it.

With Andre, he does feel a sense of fondness and longing when he’s out of his grasp. He treats the brunet teenager unlike how most people would treat their companion. He sees him as this figure he needs to latch onto, who latches onto Cal in contrasting yet related ways— Calvin feels alive when he’s around him, less like a walking zombie. Calvin gets restless and the closest thing to sad when he’s not around. Lonely, even. He needs his attention. They share a bond that nobody should be able to have but them… the Army of Two.

Cal expresses this amorous sentiment toward his comrade in relatively traditional manners, having learned from seeing other couples at school… mainly with physical touch. He really isn’t opposed to physical touch when with Andre at all. Though, Cal’s indifference when he and Andre argue is as apparent as finding a glowing scarecrow in a corn field. And while he does react in blatantly flippant manners toward the various serious problems Andre has with him in that moment, he doesn’t truly want Andre to stay angry at him. So he tries to deescalate the situation without outwardly confronting the problem. Think of the scene where Andre got angry at Cal over the poem he read aloud, and how Cal made him smile a minute later.

In addition, Cal is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The sheep wool sitting over his head like some veil of purity is the awkward, yet casual facade he wears to get people to think differently of him. To think he’s nice, to think he isn’t capable of committing such a horrific thing such as Zero Day. Even now, even before Zero Day; he’s still got his parents and peers fooled— excluding Andre.

That wolf is what Andre sees when Cal’s pissed off and bothered, and what everyone saw on Zero Day, during Cal and Andre’s final moments after they murdered a dozen students. Cal realized how he was destined to fade out with the boy who understood him; the boy he made an effort to understand, too.

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syndrossi · 5 months ago

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And now for a continuation of what I'm calling the Rescue AU aka "what if Ser Thoren successfully extracted the boys from the Gates of the Moon?" Part 1 and premise can be found here. It ended pretty abruptly, and so we pick up pretty abruptly! This one has a more proper "end" to it, though it's not finished.

x~x~x

“May we go to the market on River Row?” Rhaegar asked. He seemed to pick up on Daemon’s surprise at the request, adding, “Laenor mentioned it before. He said they have all manner of wares from within the realm, and even from across the Narrow Sea.”

“We may,” Daemon said, warmed by the pleased smile he received in response. “Do you seek anything in particular?”

He had presented them with gifts for three of their name days thus far, but that still left five. And some of his other planned gifts would not be ready for months. Any insight into what his children enjoyed was sorely welcome. They spent so little time at play, too serious about their studies.

“Princess Rhaenyra said that your name day is in less than three moons,” Rhaegar said, smile turning stern. “So you must not look if we choose something for you.”

Daemon had not celebrated his name day in nearly a decade, other than alone with Caraxes and one of the few barrels of good wine that made it on occasion to the Stepstones by way of Driftmark. His last true celebration had been a pleasant supper with Viserys, Aemma, and Rhaenyra, followed by a drunken night of debauchery in Flea Bottom that had earned his brother’s disapproval in the morning upon hearing of it.

It had been only two moons after Viserys had quietly taken him aside and “suggested” that he take Lord Beesbury as an advisor in his yet-new position of master of coin. Daemon had known the true source of the suggestion: Otto Hightower. Daemon had been only three moons in the office and still learning its scope; bringing in the former master of coin to all but do his job for him had been clearly intended to undermine him by implying he could not manage on his own.

That was the one office Daemon had resigned from before his brother could directly dismiss him, as he made a habit of. That had been before he’d realized just how short his leash would be for any office while Otto Hightower whispered in his ear simultaneously of Daemon’s immaturity and ambition.

A hand squeezed his, jolting him from his thoughts. “Father?” It was Rhaegar’s voice, gentle with concern, rather than stilted as it could sometimes be when addressing him.

Daemon smoothed wisps of light hair from his son’s forehead, then rested his hands on either cheek, heart a jumbled mess between the sentiment and the barest trace of wariness that lurked in his eyes whenever Daemon behaved in a way he did not expect. He kissed his brow, vowing that one day Rhaegar would come to expect only love at the hands of family, rather than the cold indifference—or worse—he had suffered under the Royce household.

“You can give me no greater gift than your company that day,” he said, transferring a hand to Jon’s cheek as well.

Jon gave a solemn nod. “But if I wrap Rhaegar to leave outside your door, who will wrap me?”

Daemon nearly choked on his laugh, the humor entirely unexpected. His eldest was quite sneaky in that regard, though both had a similarly clever wit. He feared for whoever might earn their wrath once they reached adolescence.

“Would you like a small purse apiece for the market, then?” he asked. “So that you are spared solving such a riddle?”

“There is no need,” Rhaegar said, revealing a bulging purse beneath his jacket. “Uncle Viserys gave us an allowance for it.”

“That was very generous of him,” Daemon said, smiling to mask a sudden flood of resentment at the reminder that nothing that he had to offer them was his own. It was all through Viserys and the royal treasury. He had no holding of his own to build an income, nor would he.

Curious stares followed them through the streets, news of the strange circumstances of his sons’ birth having traveled beyond the court. Laenor had informed him with great enthusiasm that a troupe of mummers were at work on a new play with a working title of “The Hidden Princes and the Witch of Runestone.”

If his sons were uneasy with the attention, they did not show it, more fascinated by the sights and sounds of the city. I should have taken them out sooner, Daemon thought fondly. There was a minstrel at one corner, playing the lute outside of a tavern to lure travelers in, and Rhaegar’s head tilted a moment, listening, before his eyes brightened. He hurried over, Daemon and Jon a few steps behind, and joined the minstrel in his song, his higher pitch shifting into an effortless harmony.

The minstrel looked startled by the sudden accompaniment, and even perhaps dismayed to find himself outperformed by a small child, but his eyes took in Daemon as he approached, and the princely attire his sons were wearing—as well as the growing crowd, drawn by the unusual spectacle as well as the sweetness of the song—and the man seemed to then accept the situation as one of good fortune.

Daemon smiled as he watched Rhaegar, enjoying his son’s obvious joy at an excuse to sing. The song was familiar to him, one of a wandering hedge knight in search of a maiden he had spied bathing in the moonlight and fallen in love with, but rendered nearly haunting with the addition of Rhaegar’s voice, which made it into a duet of man and maiden.

At the final verse, the minstrel made as though to bow, only for Rhaegar to continue on alone for another four, and the tale went from one of happy reunion to bittersweet loss as the maiden revealed the true reason she had evaded the hedge knight’s pursuit: the waters had told her that when she found love at last, they would have but a year before death claimed them.

There were very few dry eyes in the crowd at the song’s conclusion, and there was a light ache in his own throat, but the ending seemed to upset Jon in particular, so Daemon wrapped him up in his arms. “It is only a song.”

“If he had not gone after her, they both would have lived,” Jon said into his abdomen.

“Perhaps so,” Daemon murmured, stroking fingers through his hair as he pondered why the song had touched him so. Elys and Corwyn had died two years after the twins’ birth, and his sons had thought them their parents most of their lives. Rhea’s death was still fresh for them as well, he supposed. “But the life of a hedge knight is not without peril. Perhaps he would have found death another way.”

Jon frowned, not liking that response, and Daemon sighed, releasing him. “Come, let us collect your brother from his admirers.”

The minstrel was splitting his attention between collecting the shower of coin that had fallen at the song’s conclusion and interrogating his son on where he had heard the additional verses.

“From a harpist who wandered through the Gates of the Moon,” Rhaegar said, beginning to look uncomfortable.

Daemon quickly moved into the man’s view, fixing him with a look that halted further questioning.

“My prince,” the minstrel said, bowing with a flourish. “What an honor to have the privilege of sharing a song with your son.”

“Indeed,” Daemon said, beckoning Rhaegar back to his side. “I suggest you content yourself with your good fortune.”

“I am sorry,” Rhaegar said once they were away from the gathered crowd, flicking anxious glances in Daemon’s direction. “I did not mean to—”

“Nonsense,” Daemon said firmly. “You may sing whenever you like. You upstaged that minstrel and he knew it.”

Rhaegar moved to walk at Jon’s side, whispering something quiet to him—another apology, perhaps? Jon shrugged, the motion stiff, but he summoned a small smile in response. Fortunately, the distraction of River Row seemed to take their minds off the matter. The street stank of fish, and was awash in colorful stalls loudly peddling their goods.

They were not even at the market square yet, and he had to corral them back within reach several times with stern warnings of pickpockets and unsavory characters who grew in number as Aegon’s Hill grew more distant.

The chaos was nigh unmanageable by the time they reached the market. They still drew glances, Daemon’s hair and attire—and Dark Sister at his side—making his identity plain. But the people in the market were here for one of two purposes: to sell or be sold to. They kept their gawking to sideways glances for the most part, aside from one very bold hand that curiously reached for his hair before being swatted aside.

The strong scent of cooked meat and vegetables from the side of the market that served tempting dishes that could be held in one’s hand to eat while walking covered up the worst of the encroaching smell of raw fish and nearby sewage. There were sweeter fares as well, including a stall that spun sugar into elaborate shapes to cool and be sold.

The peddlers’ calls grew particularly loud whenever they were noticed, to the point where Jon was beginning to look overwhelmed. Daemon was not without his own tension. Every voice that carried an accent from the Free Cities, and especially the occasional spoken Valyrian, transported him back to the crush and throng of the Stepstones.

They eventually reached a portion of the market that was less frantic, where he was no longer touching four different bodies at once, and Daemon slowly relaxed. The boys went from stall to stall with Daemon looking on a few steps back, moving with them. Occasionally they would lean in for hushed discussion, dark hair against light, then turn to him in unison with appraising eyes before resuming their conversation.

Daemon had no idea what they would decide upon for gifts, but he was greatly looking forward to finding out what they had deemed worthy. They had found something at the present stall, which seemed to be an assortment of leather goods ranging from cow’s hide to more exotic sources.

Jon looked back toward him. “Turn around,” he ordered. “She has to finish making it and then wrapping it.”

Daemon gamely turned away. “Tell me when it is safe to look.”

He contented himself with scanning the rest of the current extension of the market, occasionally meeting the quickly averted gaze of an onlooker startled to be caught. That was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to when walking about openly, though years ago in Flea Bottom, the denizens had come to view his frequent presence among them as something to be expected. When he truly wished to walk about without fuss, he went cloaked and hooded.

A startled cry rang out back toward the portion of the market they had just left, and Daemon glanced that way to see that one of the food stalls had caught flame. He could make out the shouts for water, and a few nearby peddlers flapped with cloth at the fire, seeking to smother it. It seemed to only inflame it somehow, the fire almost dancing from one stall to another, which then caught.

Daemon recognized in the louder murmurs of the crowd the sound of unease yielding to panic, his own alarm growing with it. Panic was unpredictable, and the crowd would seek whatever outlet they thought offered safety, willing to trample whoever got in their way.

He turned back to the stall, ready to sweep his children up and leave before the chaos reached them, only to find the stall empty and his sons nowhere in view. His mind blanked with incomprehension for a moment, breath catching in his throat, and he closed the distance to the stall in an instant, looking around wildly. His sons were nowhere to be seen, but there was a woman’s body in rapidly pooling blood slumped at the other side of the stall.

No. Daemon’s hand closed around Dark Sister’s hilt, an icy fear flooding his veins. He took a deep breath to call for them, only to freeze at the sudden prick of something sharp and metal against his back.

“Quiet,” a voice said behind him, soft and unaccented. “Do you wish to see your sons?”

“Where are they?” Daemon asked, holding perfectly still. He might be quick enough to move before the man behind him sunk his blade in, but he did not know if there were more. There must be, to have taken his sons away. “What do you want?”

“If you do as I say, I shall take you to them. Fight, and you will never see them again.” The man waited, as though to see if he intended to put up a struggle. “Remove your hand from your blade.”

Daemon stared forward, paralyzed by indecision. He could mean to kill me anyway. This may be intended to buy time so that they may take the boys further out of reach.

But what could he—or they—even want? If it was ransom they sought, then the more captives, the better. If it was revenge, they would have killed his sons, and Daemon after.

“That dragon blood of yours is worth a great deal,” the voice said with a hint of impatience. “But only balanced against the trouble you might cause. Remove your hand.”

Ransom, then. Daemon clutched that hope to his chest and released his grip on Dark Sister. His hand was grabbed and twisted behind his back, firmly but not painfully so, and he was guided between stalls, out of view. Then, something smooth and rounded was pressed into his hand.

“Drink this.”

The shouts in the market square had grown louder, and the wind was beginning to blow smoke in their direction. Daemon had spotted the occasional gold cloak earlier, but there were none to be seen now, the men likely moving to seek control of the fire or the crowd. There were far more pressing things for the people milling about the market to pay attention to than a prince tucked just out of view, a blade to his back.

“What is it?” Daemon asked, though he could guess. If it was not poison, then it was something intended to dull the senses and render him easy to move without struggle.

“Drink,” the man repeated. “Or I spill that royal blood onto the cobblestone, which would be a shameful waste.”

Daemon brought the bottle into view, its milky glass obscuring its contents save for a faintly darker line where the liquid within sloshed. A tiny cork served as a stopper.

I cannot see them again if I am sliced open in River Row.

Ransom could be paid. Daemon knew that Viserys would not hesitate on his behalf or his sons’, whatever objections Otto might raise.

He brought the cork to his teeth, and pulled it loose, then tipped the liquid back. He held it in his mouth for a few seconds, debating whether he could feign swallowing, but a hand closed over his lips and pinched his nostrils shut until he swallowed, at which point it moved to grip his right arm again. The man made no move to lead him anywhere, seeming content to wait for the potion to take its effect.

“You have not hurt them?” Daemon asked, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.

“They are not harmed,” the man said with a hint of amusement. “Though I cannot say the same for some of the others. I did warn them about Jon.”

A dizziness rolled over Daemon, followed by a heaviness that came in waves that settled deeper each time. At last he was prodded forward, and it took all his concentration to put one foot ahead of the other. Then another. Then—

#resonant 'verse rescue au #resonant concept writing #aka writing 2.5K of concept stuff instead of resonant like i should be

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 11 months ago

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To Be A Good Slut Girl (Mean MDoms!Sukuna & Choso x Black fsub!Reader x msub!Itadori 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Choso x Itadori Yuji x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend’s older brothers decide that they don’t like how you’re treating their kid brother (who is too oblivious and in love to realize that you’re using him for his money and his d*ck) and decide to teach you some lessons.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); R*pe; Noncon; Bitchy!Reader; Black-Coded!Reader; Mean!MDoms Sukuna & Choso; msub!Itadori; fsub!Reader; Implied Incest (The brothers don't have sex with each other! Only with the reader!); Foursome; Physical Assault; Spit Play; Daddy Kink; Boot Grinding; Collaring; Pet Play; BDSM; Handcuffs; Panty Gag; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Forced Deepthroat; Forced Orgasms; Voyeurism; Orgasm Denial; Sex Toys; Mating Press; Doggystyle; Cum Play; Facial; Some Aftercare

*IMPORTANT: This work contains depicted acts of r*pe and noncon. PLEASE beware and tread lightly while reading. I personally do not condone any of the acts written in this one shot. It is ONLY a fantasy.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Enjoy & go touch some fucking grass! Luv y’all! -Jazz 💋💋💋

**********

“Yuji, baby, can I borrow $50 to get my nails done, pleeeease?” you mock-sweetly plea.

“Oh, God, kill me,” Sukuna groans. Choso smirks at the stove, stirring a big pot of ramen broth.

“Sure thing, sweetheart!” Yuji, their sweet, gullible, "golden retriever" ass little brother chirps from the living room. “Anything for my pretty, pretty princess!”

“Please, Choso, just fuckin’ do it,” Sukuna begs, pointing a butter knife to his thick, veiny neck.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Choso chuckles, taking the knife out of his brother's hand. “That’s his girl. He can do what he wants.” From the living room, he can hear you kissing Yuji down, your lip gloss wetly smacking.

“Yeah, but why do it in our faces?" Sukuna huffs, leaning against the counter with his tatted arms crossed. "Every time they talk, it’s about him buying her this and taking her there!” He huffs, rolling his crimson eyes. “It’s like he’s a fuckin’ bank and personal dildo to her.”

“Don't let your twin hear you talkin' 'bout her like that, Choso chastizes him, wagging a wooden spoon in his face. "This is the first real girlfriend he's ever had. Not everyone can hit it and quit it like you."

Sukuna sniffs indifferently at Choso, yanking on one of his black, spiked ponytails. Choso is the oldest of the sibling trio, acting as the dad of the two pink-haired twins. Sukuna is older than Yuji by ten minutes and is different than his little bro in every possible way: he's grumpy, sarcastic, unsociable, and goes through girls like a smoker would a pack of cigs.

Yuji, on the other hand, is sweet and liked by everyone he meets with his fluffy, pink hair, energetic personality, and dumb antics that they're damn near adorable. He trusts everybody...which includes you: his bitchy, manipulative, gold-digging girlfriend.

"Believe me, I don’t like it either," Choso tells a sulking Sukuna, "but we can’t just tell him to stop dating her. Yuji is down bad for this girl.”

Sukuna tsks, looking into the living room at you sitting on Yuji's lap in your tight little top and short, plaid school skirt where he can just see a sliver of thigh. "Unfortunately," he sighs.

It's no secret (except to Yuji) that Choso and Sukuna don't like you. They know what you're up to and they don't like it. You use their brother up until there is nothing left. Anytime you call, it's always to ask Yuji to take you to a new nightclub or buy you a new Fendi bag.

Yuji has a good job, but he's also in college. He doesn't have the funds to keep funding your mani-pedis and get you some new shoes. Not enough to keep running to the bank or the mall. But Yuji does it because he's insane over you. Five months after dating, the man is head over heels, carrying your bags behind you during shopping sprees and practically kissing your feet.

And you don't do a thing. Choso and Sukuna have yet to see you show their brother genuine love and affection. You only kiss him up and coo sweet nothings to him when he says yes to buying you something or giving you money. It boils their blood, but there isn't much they can do if Yuji likes you so damn much.

“Hey, guys!” Yuji says, suddenly skipping into the kitchen. “You guys mind keeping Y/N company? I’m gonna head out and get her some lemon pepper wings.” He gives his older brothers a gigawatt grin despite their confused scowls.

“But I’m fixin’ us ramen,” Choso states, confused. “Why are you pickin' her up food if I’m cooking for her?” He swears he doesn't mean to mention you so harshly, but he can't help it.

“Oh, she doesn’t eat Japanese food,” Yuji laughs. “And it’s no big deal! I bought stuff for me too, so I’ll just pick it up when I get her meal." He gives them a wink before heading out of the kitchen, his car keys in his pocket.

“Hold up, Yuji,” Choso says, turning to face his brother. Yuji turns around, curious and naive. Choso and Sukuna share a look, both knowing that they can't stay silent about this anymore. “So," Choso starts, clearing his throat, "you’ve been with Y/N for a long time, right?”

Yuji practically gets heart eyes at the mention of you. “Yeah,” he dreamily sighs. “Five months of bliss. She’s the best and the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!"

Choso inhales deeply, mentally preparing to crush his brother's heart. “Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but….Sukuna and I have noticed some weird things about her.” Yuji blankly blinks at him, confused. “Like what?”

“Like how she’s a gold-digging, fake ass bitch,” Sukuna snaps. Choso harshly nudges him in the side. “What?! I’m just being real!”

Yuji's eyes narrow at his brothers, alarmed at such words being hurled at his pretty, pretty princess. “What do you mean?” he scoffs. “Y/N isn’t at all like that! Sure, she asks me to buy her things and CashApp her money for shoes and makes me hold my orgasms, but that’s all part of being a good boyfriend and—“

“Wait, you said she does what?” Choso asks, gobsmacked.

“Has me buy her shoes?" Yuji questions, blinking cluelessly at them.

“No, no, the last part," Sukuna replies, just as alarmed. "She makes you hold your cum? Like….as a kink thing?” Yuji's cheeks grow pink and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean...everyone has their thing, I guess. She likes seeing me squirm, she says. Says I look cute when I’m desperate.”

Choso and Sukuna once again share a look that Yuji doesn't pay attention to. “But then she makes you cum afterward, right?” Choso pushes. Yuji suddenly grows shy, his face going beat red. “Uh…”

Sukuna rolls his crimson eyes. “C’mon, Yuji, we’re your brothers. We found your fleshlight in the dryer before, remember? You've caught us havin' sex plenty of times!”

Though still nervous, Yuji knows his brother is right and decides to be honest. “Most of the time, no. She’s usually the one that cums when we have sex.” He must realize how this sounds because he quickly tries to sugarcoat it. “B-But I don’t mind! I love pleasing my princess. She deserves everything.”

He pulls a dreamy, pussy-whipped face that has his brothers worrying even more. Just how bad do you have this boy in your hands?

“Yuji!" you call, strutting into the kitchen with your fresh bundles and Jimmy Choo sandals. Your smile fades when you see Choso and Sukuna looking pissed. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Yuji whirls around, looking like a happy dog wagging its tail. “No, my love! What do you need?”

You wave your phone at him. “I got a notification saying that the food is ready. When you get back, can you stop and pick me up some of that strawberry cheesecake carriages for my E-pen?” You snuggle up to him, pressing your tits against his arm.

“Sure, baby girl!" he eagerly replies. "Anything you want!” You happily squeal, pecking him on the lips. “Thank you, baby,” you coo. Your phone dings then, signaling a call. “Oh, that’s my friend! I’ve gotta take this.”

You stroke Yuji's cheek for a brief moment before strutting off, your ass bouncing and swaying enticingly so in your skirt. “Isn’t she so hot?” Yuji sighs to his bros. The two don't answer, instead waving him out the door and telling him they'll save him a bowl.

Once he's out the door, Choso puts the broth on simmer and looks at an equally simmering Sukuna. "Corner the bitch?" he asks.

"Fuck yes," Choso growls. "Hurry, before Yuji gets home." But as they creep upstairs to confront you about how shitty of a girlfriend you are, Choso hears your laughs coming from Yuji's cracked bedroom and coaxes Sukuna to stay quiet as they peek into the room.

You face away from them, twirling your locks around your long nails and chatting away on the phone, unaware that you're being watched.

"Yuji's fine," you say indifferently. "He went to get me some wings. He's such a munch, girl, I swear!" You giggle at the insult to give Yuji and then scoff at whatever your friend says. "Well, yeeeah, technically, we're dating, but I'm not with him for the romance. I'm with him because he gets me whatever I want."

Choso and Sukuna give each other a wide-eyed look. This bitch!

"I'm serious!" you say to your friend. "This boy is so sprung from me and my pussy that he doesn't even care that I'm using him. He's bought me a pink Switch, paid for my makeup and nails, and gives me money for rent all because I ask him...and 'cause I give him such good head."

You giggle again, cocky. "And not only does he do that," you boast. "He's got a mouth and a dick on him! He will eat me out for days and let me ride him till I cum...and I haven't made him cum once." You toss your head back and laugh, the sound irritating Yuji's bros.

"He's my personal black card and dildo!" you laugh. "Such a dumb boy, but so, so cute!"

Choso and Sukuna can't hear anymore so they slink away from the door and back downstairs. "That bitch!" Sukuna growls, seething. "Who the fuck she think she is? I'm goin' back up there to–"

"Wait!" Choso whispers, putting a hand on his bro's chest to stop him. "I have a better idea of how to handle this." Sukuna narrows his red eyes at him. "Instead of puttin' this slut out on the street where she belongs?" he scoffs.

"You know that Yuji will never forgive us if we do that," Choso reasons. "So I have another way on how we can confront her." Sukuna blinks at him, confused yet intrigued.

"We wait till Yuji comes home and then we give her some lessons on how to be a good girlfriend for our brother." A malevolent smirk grows on Choso's lips. "We'll make it so she'll regret ever using him."

Like a lightbulb flickering on, Sukuna catches Choso's drift and returns his evil smirk. "If this idea is what I think it is, I love it already," he cackles. "That bitch won't know what hit her."

And you don't. It all happens so fast: Yuji comes home with the food and your E-pen cartridges; you take him into his bedroom to "reward"; you're on your knees with his pants down when Choso and Sukuna suddenly walk in.

You gasp and jump behind Yuji's bed. "What the fuck?!" you shriek. "Do y'all know how to knock?!" Choso smirks while Sukuna gives you a glare that could kill millions. "Oh, we do," he replies. "But sluts don't deserve privacy. 'Specially gold-digging ones like you."

You glare at Yuji's twin, angered. "Excuse me?" you hiss. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Yuji's very angry twin," Sukuna growls. "And the younger brother to our even angrier older bro." He nods at Choso who shuts the door behind him before crossing his tatted arms over his buff chest. "Yuji!" you snap, yanking at your boy toy's pant leg. "Don't let them talk to me like that!"

But Yuji just stands there, unmoving and silent. "Yuji!" you hiss, yanking on him again. "What's wrong with you?! What are you, a pussy?"

You gasp when Sukuna suddenly grabs a lockful of your hair, wrenching your head back. You didn't even notice him walking up to you from the door. "Hey, now," he tsks, "that ain't no way to talk to our kid brother. You should apologize to him."

"Yuji, go sit over there," Choso demands, nodding at the chair across the room. Yuji does so, leaving you with his two older brothers who have begun to corner you. You shake and shiver under Sukuna's fist still curled in your hair, begging Yuji for help.

"Aw, look, Choso!" Sukuna cackles. "She's scared! She should be. Fuckin' little slut." Just for fun, he yanks your hair back, emitting a pained gasp from you.

Choso kneels down in front of you, his aura intimidating and his eyes firm. "You wanna know why you're here?" he asks and you nod, tears prickling your eyes. "We overheard your little convo with your bestie, talkin' 'bout how our brother is nothin' but a personal dildo for you. How you're only usin' him for his money and his dick."

Your eyes tick to Yuji who sits sulkingly in front of the door, looking like a kicked puppy. You are then roughly snatched back by Choso, his hand gripping your chin. "Don't you fuckin' look away from me," he demands. "And don't lie either. We heard everything you said and we told Yuji too."

"And all this time he was thinkin' about how he can be a better boyfriend to your triflin' ass," Sukuna sighs. "Tragic. He should've dumped your slutty ass months ago, but nooo, he was so concerned that his pretty princess get those shoes or bag she so desperately wanted."

"That kind of behavior don't fly with us, baby," Choso adds. "So we're gonna give you some lessons on how to be a good girl for our little bro. When you walk outta here tonight, all you're gonna be thinkin' about is how you can be a good girlfriend."

"And how much we ruined you," Sukuna laughs. "And Yuji's gonna watch! After all, he needs to be taught how to put you in your place."

He wrenches your hair back hard, making your scalp sting, and bends down so he's an inch away from your face. "And if you even think about tryna escape, you won't like what happens next," he growls.

"You're gonna do everything we say if you wanna leave here tonight," Choso demands. "Do you understand?" You nod despite Sukuna's hold on your hair, but a slap to the face makes you realize your mistake. "Words," Choso growls. "Gimme words, brat."

"Y-Yes!" you whimper.

"Yes, who?" Choso prompts, still in your grill. Swallowing harshly, your brain scrambles for an answer. "Yes...Daddies," you answer, your voice wavering with fear. That must be the golden answer because Sukuna and Choso finally release you, but they still tower over you while Yuji blocks the door.

You've never been so scared in your life than now, stuck in this room and forced to face the consequences of your actions. You don’t know what they’ll do to you if you refuse.

So when Sukuna demands that you take off your top and bra, you do. The skirt and heels stay on.

When Choso orders you to put your hands behind your back, you do it.

You begin to sob when he clips on some handcuffs and Sukuna snaps a collar with a leash around your neck. You feel so much like a pet. A tool to be used.

Tears stain your pretty face and ruin your makeup, much to the brothers’ liking. “Stop fuckin’ cryin’,” Choso cooly says, his voice like ice. “You did this to yourself. You’ve got nobody to blame but you.”

Sukuna laughs, wrapping his fist around the leather strap connected to your collar. “She’s cryin’?” he cackles. “Damn, it only took this to make you break, huh, slut? Mmm, you look so cute with ruined makeup, y’know. Can’t wait to see my cum on this mug.”

He forces your chin up, getting a good look at your wet face. “Now let’s get you stretched out,” he chuckles. Your glassy eyes widen in fear. What does he mean by that? You get your answer when Choso presents you with a bottle of strawberry-flavored lube and a butt plug: small, silver, and shaped like a bedazzled heart.

The two smirk down at you, unfeeling and menacing. It’s enough to make you pee yourself. You don’t fight them when they force you onto your knees, your wrists cuffed behind your back. You bend over in your little skirt, presenting your ass to the brother trio, your thong stuck between your asscheeks.

“Look at this,” Choso sharply exhales, giving your ass a harsh smack. The sound ricochets against the walls, making Yuji squirm in his seat.

“Oh, a thong, huh?” Sukuna tsks. “Such a fuckin’ whore. Prancin’ around in public like this on my kid brother’s arm? I bet you were hopin’ for someone like us to bend you over and ruin you.” He then yanks down your panties and rips them off of your legs, the sound of fabric ripping making you flinch. “You won’t be needin’ that shit no more,” he chuckles.

Your body trembles and shakes like a leaf in autumn when Choso squirts some lube on his fingers and begins tracing your asshole, gently probing the little hole. At the same time, Sukuna spits on his fingers and plays with your pussy. “This is as gentle as I’m gonna be with you, so enjoy it, slut,” he whispers in your ear.

You moan and whimper like a pathetic little whore against Sukuna’s skillful, black-painted fingers, little electric shocks of pleasure coursing through you. It causes your pussy to drip and your asshole to eventually stretch around Choso’s finger. “Damn, you’re tight here,” he hisses. “I bet that cunt is even tighter.”

“Oh, it is,” Sukuna comments, his middle finger sinking into your pussy. “Little bitch is just so hungry to be fucked by anything at this point.” While he continues to finger you and nudge your clit, Choso then pushes the butt plug into your asshole, making your jaw go slack and a whine escape your lips. You can feel it stretching you out, making your toes curl and muscles tense.

“Relax, mama,” Choso whispers. “Just relax.” You manage to do so, inhaling and exhaling until your body unclenches and the plug sinks all the way home inside. “Show your boyfriend that little hole, pet,” Sukuna demands, smacking your ass. “Ain’t she look cute, Yuji? Like a proper slut.”

Yuji has now unzipped his pants and has his hard dick in his hands, stroking away at the sight of you. To you see you look so slutty and submissive on your knees with your handcuffed and the bedazzled heart nestled snuggly between your soft, jiggly asscheeks under your skirt is enough to make him bust.

You hear his soft moans and look back at your boyfriend to see him jerking off at the sight of you, a blush as pink as his hair on his cheeks and his hand gripping his long, fat cock. You’re horrified. How is he getting off to this?!

“How’s that feel, baby?” Choso asks. “You feelin’ full?” You nod, feeling like you’re stuffed to the brim.

“You ain’t felt nothin’ yet,” he chuckles. “But first thing’s first…” Choso tugs on your leash, forcing you to sit up on your knees. Looking down at you like you’re nothing more than a bug, he nods down at his shoe. “You wanna use somethin’ to get yourself off, use this,” he says. “C’mon, show your boo how good of a bitch you can be for his brothers.”

You stare down at his shoe, confused. You then feel a sharp pain in your scalp as Sukuna yanks your hair back, nearly taking a track out. “What, you deaf?” he growls. “Did you fuckin’ hear what my brother said?” His hand comes down onto your ass hard, leaving a horrible sting in its wake. “Ow!” you whine. “P-Please stop!”

“Then get that pussy on Choso’s boot or the next one is markin’ up that pretty face of yours.” You do as they both say, shimmying yourself onto the toe of Choso’s shoe. You begin to roll your hips as you grind your pussy down onto the solid surface of his shoe, feeling humiliated yet blinded by the pleasure.

“Watch her, Yuji,” Sukuna sniggers. “Watch your bitch get off like the slut she is. This is how she should be treated for runnin’ through your pockets, don’t you agree?”

Yuji doesn’t deny or admit to it, but he doesn’t have to. He continues to pump at his thick, leaking cock, his hand a blur as he strokes it fast. “Fuck,” he whispers. He can’t believe you–a woman who has treated him as a servant for so many months–is on her knees getting treated as a toy. And it’s so, so hot to see!

“Ain’t that right, baby doll?” Sukuna asks you. “Shouldn’t you be treated like this for bein’ such a money-hungry slut?” You know better than to say no. “Y-Yes, Daddy,” you whimper. “I’m sorry.”

Zzzzip. Sukuna and Choso’s zippers come down and suddenly, you’re looking at two big, thick cocks that hang in your face. Sukuna’s is much girthier and has an angry, red tip while Choso’s has a hook in it and a silver stud jutting out of his dickhead.

“Oh, you will be soon,” Sukuna says, smirking down at you. “Now open that mouth up, bitch.” You obediently do so, leading Choso and Sukuna to spit in your mouth. The sight of it makes Yuji groan.

“You wanna use that mouth so much then you can use it somewhere else,” his twin spits. He takes a handful of his cock, stroking it while Choso makes his bob hypnotizingly, smirking at the look on your face. “Spit that shit back on our cocks, baby doll,” he orders you.

“You don’t get a choice in this either,” Sukuna grunts. “You’re gonna take this shit and like it.” You obediently spit their saliva back onto their cocks, a string of spit connected from Choso’s dick to your bottom lip. So he goes first. They both fuck your mouth at the same fast, rough, merciless tempo, but they are still vastly different in the way they do it.

As the first one to have your throat all to himself, Choso uses your mouth as his own personal fuck toy, yes, but he keeps a light hand on your leash and sweet talks you, showering you with praise AND degradation as he watches you forcefully swallow his dick while Sukuna fucks your hand. “Such a big girl, takin’ two big dicks at the same time, baby,” Choso coos. “I bet you like it like this, hm? Bet you love gettin’ that slutty throat used up like it should be.”

He pulls away somewhat to slide his dick out of your mouth, giving you a chance to breathe and lick on the tip where his piercing is. The sounds of moans and filthy words fill the air, making you grind down on Choso and Sukuna’s shoes to relieve the throb of your cunt.

Meanwhile, Sukuna is rough. Hard. Brutal. He puts your ass through the wringer with the way he grips your leash and fucks your throat, filling it up at a breakneck pace. The copious amounts of saliva that drip from your mouth and chin only make your mouth sloppier and easier to fuck. The pink-haired twin grunts and groans as he pumps in and out of your throat, using you, breaking you.

“Look at your bitch, Yuji,” he cackles through his moans. “Look at all of that spit while she takes my cock. Does she do it like this for you?” He smacks your cheek, giving it a short sting as he fills your mouth to the brim with his cock. “You got the nerve to not make my brother cum?” he growls. “We’ll see how you like it. Keep grindin’ on my boot, but don’t you dare cum.” You do so, whimpering at the ache of your jaw and the tingling of your clit.

Choso is loving the view as he fucks your hand, endeared by the way your nails look wrapped around his thick cock. “C’mon, baby girl, show me those eyes,” he coos. You do so though all you see is a blurry version of his face because your eyes have begun tearing up. At some point, Sukuna goes too deep and you begin to gag around his cock.

With a groan, he releases you, allowing you to swallow down some air. “Please!” you gasp. “I can’t breathe!” Sukuna barely acknowledges this and plunges himself back into your sobbing, wet mouth. “Shut yo’ ass up,” he snarls. “Breathing is only for good girls. You ain’t earn that yet, slut. Now shut that mouth and keep suckin’ these dicks.”

And you do. You don’t have a choice. The brothers keep switching turns, each one using your mouth up until spit is dripping down your naked chest and your mind is going blank. Yujii is about at his limit. He lets out the sluttiest moans as he jerks his dick to the sight of his brothers ruining you, his release quickly peaking. “S-Shit,” he whines. “Guys, I-I’m close!”

“Ah-ah, little bro,” Sukuna laughs. “Nooot yeeet. We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” He pulls his dick out of your mouth with a moan and roughly yanks on your leash. “On your back, bitch. Legs spread.”

Though your makeup is fucked, your jaw is burning, and you haven’t cum yet, they don’t care. They only care about one thing. So you get on your back and spread your legs wide, exposing your dripping, wet pussy to Yuji. He groans almost in anguish at the sight of your glistening, brown lips and throbbing clit.

“Look at how wet she is!” Sukuna guffaws. “Dumb, horny little bitch can’t help herself! Why don’t you give her what she wants, bro?” He smirks at Choso who is looking at you like you’re a platter he wants to devour for himself.

“Watch closely, Yuji,” he says, looking back at Yuji with a smirk. “This is how you fuck a slut.” He pulls his pants down farther and takes off his top to reveal his toned body, pierced nipples, and tatted skin. Then he’s mounting you and tossing your legs over his shoulders.

“W-Wait!” you protest, but he is already sliding himself home inside of your tight, wet, gushing pussy. Him pushing himself inside of you somehow makes your asshole clench around the butt plug still nestled between your cheeks. A loud moan escapes your quivering lips as your eyes roll back.

Choso pistons inside of you immediately, slamming his cock inside of your gushing cunt. “Nice, hard, and deep,” he gasps, each word punctuated by a thrust. “Hold her down. Make her take it.” He instructs this by holding you down by your throat as he fucks you into the floor, causing lewd, sloshing sounds of his cock repeatedly plunging into your sloppy cunt over and over and over again.

Yuji watches his older brother spread you out and fuck you silly, his hand moving rapidly against his hard dick. “Oh, God,” he moans. “She looks so fuckin’ good.” His cock throbs and strains to feel one your holes squeezing around him and stroking him dry.

Sukuna looks back at him, standing over you as he watches Choso fuck you. “Yeah?” he laughs. “You’ll get her soon, little bro. We’re just makin’ sure you know the basics.” He suddenly taps Choso’s shoulder and with a resistant groan, the oldest brother slides out of you despite your pussy clamping down to stop him.

“Lemme get her this time,” Sukuna growls. Like a basketball player who has been sitting on the sidelines for too long, he gets and turns the game out…the “game” being your pussy. He settles between your legs and tosses one over his shoulder before shoving his cock inside of you and fucking you silly. His hips slap against yours, the sound mingling with your breathless moans and his guttural grunts of pleasure.

You’ve never been fucked like this before: so hard; so rough; so animalistic. His fingers dig into the meaty flesh of your ass and thighs, using them as leverage to fuck himself even deeper inside of you. Your pussy flutters like a butterfly’s wings around his dick, ready to burst…but then he stops.

And then it’s Choso’s turn again. He scoops you up and places you into his lap with him underneath you. With his thighs spread, his cock bobs impatiently beneath you which he slides you onto like you’re no more than a sex doll. Your mouth goes slack as he stretches you out even more in this position.

“C’mon, Choso,” Sukuna urges, pumping his cock in your face. “I wanna see that bitch bounce. Fuck her up.”

And so Choso does. He grabs your hips with an iron grip and proceeds to fuck up into you as fast as a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your clit. “F-Fuck!” you scream. “T-Too much! Please, please slow down!”

Sukuna rolls his crimson eyes at your constant, annoying screeching. “You talk way too much,” he sighs. “Guess it can’t be helped for a bratty bitch like you.” Next thing you know, his cock is in your mouth while Choso greedily fucks your pussy off of its hinges.

“How’s this, hm?” Sukuna laughs. “You like gettin’ both these slutty holes fucked? I bet you ain’t never had it like this.” And you haven’t. You’ve never been so filled like this before! It’s so overwhelming. So humiliating. So degrading.

And yet so good.

“Take it, mama,” Choso huffs into your ear, slamming himself up into you again and again. “You can’t run from this shit, so you’d better take all of me.” Like you have a choice! You’re forced to take his cock that you can feel throbbing and swelling inside of you, beating up your pussy to the point where you can feel your end coming…or cumming.

Sukuna’s cock slips out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe and warn Choso of your peak. “Gonna cum!” you whine, near tears. “I’m close!” Sukuna sighs, looking disappointed. “You’re still talking?” he grumbles.

But Choso is enjoying it, red in the face and quickly losing composure. “I-I thinks she’s close, Sukuna,” he grunts. “God, she’s squeezin’ that pussy around me so tight!”

Sukuna squeezes your cheeks together, mushing your lips in the shape of a fish’s. He gets close to you, stopping an inch away from your nose. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare cum,” he demands. “You don’t have permission yet. You better hold that shit if you know what’s good for you.”

You whine in protest, tears dripping down your face coated in ruined makeup. Luckily, you don’t have to wait for too long because Choso is about ready to bust, loud, slutty moans leaving his lips. “I’m gonna cum!” he warns. “Gonna fill you up! Take my cum, baby girl!” And with one groan in your ear, his warm cum shoots inside of you, triggering your own orgasm.

He holds you down as you both cum together, your sounds of release mingling into one as he fills you up with him. You feel warm and wet, much of his nut dripping down your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sight of the twins watching you. “Wow,” Yui gasps, in awe. “There’s so much leaking out of her!”

“And there’s gonna be more in a minute,” Sukuna huffs. Choso pulls his softened dick out of you while Sukuna grips you up by your hair. With a squeal of pain, you’re tossed to the ground onto your knees and he points at Choso’s cum-covered cock. “Clean his cock up, you messy slut. You don’t get to get away with makin’ a mess like that.”

Weakly, you do so, licking and lapping up Choso’s nut mixed with your cum. You lick from his balls to his shaft to the tip, earning soft moans and headstrokes in return. Finally, you finish, the taste of him heavy on your tongue. “Nicely done,” he sighs, giving you a tired smile. “But you’ve still got another dick to take.”

And unlike Choso, Sukuna doesn’t give you any sort of tenderness. He takes what he wants and doesn’t let you off without getting it.

He puts you on your knees–face down, ass up–and rails you into the floor. You feel his cock pump in and out of you, never once pausing or breaking that fast pace that makes you feel space behind your eyelids.

“Yeah, bitch? Ya like that?” he asks, his words breathless and punctuated by grunts. You can’t even speak, your mouth filled with cotton

Someone is wailing and it takes you a moment after brief deliriousness to realize that it’s you. “Damn, you can’t be quiet, can you?” he huffs. “Choso, shut this slut up so she doesn’t bust my eardrums before I can bust my nut.”

Choso kneels before you, your panties dangling from his hand. He smirks at your horrified reaction. “Open up, mama,” he says and pushes your thong into your mouth. Sukuna groans as he drills your shit harder, turned on by the panty gag. “God, that shit is so fuckin’ hot,” he growls. “Makes me wanna fill this tight little pussy up.”

“M-Me too,” Yuji whines from his spot in the corner. “I can’t hold back anymore, guys! I need to cum soon!” His entire body twitches and his back arches as he fucks his fist faster, wishing it was you.

“Yeah, little Yuji?” Sukuna teasingly asks. “You wanna cum all over this whore, dontcha?” His twin eagerly nods, still pumping away at his cock dribbling in precum. With a groan, Sukuna pulls his thick cock out of you, slapping you on the ass with it. “I’ve got the perfect idea then on how we can really make our time with this cumslut count.”

He and Choso coax Yuji over closer to you. He does so, bringing his chair and his aching cock with him. Sukuna then forces you higher up into your knees so your head is in Yuji’s lap.

Choso kneels at your side, stroking your hair away from your mouth of ruined lipgloss, spit, and cum. “Now you wanna be a good girl for our Yuji, right, baby girl?” he asks. “You wanna show that you’re so sorry for the way you treated him?”

You stare up at Yuji and into his desperate eyes, suddenly flooded with guilt for your previous behavior towards him before all of this. “Y-Yes, Daddy,” you weakly answer his oldest brother. Choso then takes a fistful of your hair and shives your mouth down into his kid brother’s cock. “Then open that throat and suck on his cock ‘cause we’re gonna fuckin’ cover you.”

As soon as your hot, wet mouth wraps around Yuji’s cock, he begins fucking it, grabbing your face to use it as a cock sleeve. Sukuna slides inside of you and resumes fucking you, nudging you closer to Yuji which causes him to sink deeper down your throat. “C’mon, Yuji, fuck her up,” he encouragingly grunts as he fucks you from behind. “Make her sorry that she ever treated you so bad.”

And Yuji does. Letting out the sluttiest moans you’ve ever heard out of him, he fucks your throat until you’re gagging and slobbering all over his dick, all of your senses filled with him. “God, you’re such a good little slut!” he moans. “Gonna make me cum so hard!”

Choso moans in agreement from beside you, his cock just inches away from your cheek as he fucks his fist at the sight of you. “Mmm, me too,” he sighs. “Just watchin’ her holes get fucked like that is doin’ all kinds of shit to me.”

You can feel yourself about to burst too. As your pussy squeezes around Sukuna’s cock, your body aches, your knees and wrists burn, and your jaw feels as if it’s about to fall off. “Oooh, someone’s tightenin’ up,” he chuckles. He yanks on your leash, restricting your breath for a moment. “You wanna cum too, sweetness? Does that poor pussy wanna cream around this cock, hm?”

“Mmm-hmm!” you pathetically whine around Yuji’s dick. Sukuna nods, pleased with this eager response. “Then I think you’ve got somethin’ you need to tell our brother here. And you’d better mean it if you wanna cum.” He and Choso nod at Yuji and the youngest brother lets his cock slip out of your mouth.

You use every ounce of your breath to babble apologies as Sukuna nails your shit harder and harder: “Sorry!” you gasp. “I-I’m so, so sorry, Yuji! I’m such a bad girlfriend! I was such a bitch and I’m sorry!”

A twinkle appears in Yuji’s widening eyes, his cheeks flushed pink. “Ya mean it?” he asks. “You’re never gonna ask me for shit again? Or ask me to send you money? Or fuck me and not make me cum?”

“No!” you practically scream. “No, I’ll never do that to you again, Yuji, I promise!”

The sibling trio smiles at each other. They finally broke you. “Good girl,” all three siblings say in unison.

“Now take all of this cum,” Choso demands. “You deserve this. This is what you get.”

In a snap, Yuji sinks his cock back into your mouth and with a whine of your name, cums deep down your throat. Choso explodes all over your tits while Sukuna cums deep inside of you, sinking his nails into your asscheeks as he fills you up. The sound of their moans of release triggers your own orgasm. With a wordless moan that turns into a broken scream, you clench your pussy around Sukuna and cum your brains out, your orgasm nearly knocking you unconscious with its strength.

“That’s it, slutty girl,” Sukuna laughs, tugging on your leash. “Cum for us. Cum all over that dick.” You keep cumming until your body twitches and bucks as the aftershocks hit you. But as soon as they come, they fade, and the siblings commence to freeing you.

Sukuna slowly pulls out of you and takes off your collar while Choso unlocks your handcuffs. Yuji holds you up before you fall, placing your head in his lap. You are completely covered from head to toe in cum: on your ass and titties; on your pussy where Sukuna’s drips out of you and down your thighs; on your face where your tears have ruined your makeup.

“Now that’s a pretty ass sight,” Sukuna breathlessly laughs. “Now, you gonna be a good girl for our little brother now?” Weakly, you look up at the two older siblings and nod. But they make a disapproving face

“Don’t tell us,” Choso orders. “Tell him.”

Yuji looks down at you, fixing your ruined hair for you. “You gonna be my good girl from now on, princess?” he asks, using his thumb to caress your bottom lip. Swallowing harshly, you slowly nod. “Yes, Daddy,” you croak. “I promise.”

Sukuna and Choso smile proudly at their work, happy to see your change. “Our work here is done then,” Choso sighs with satisfaction. “Now let’s eat.”

THE END.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #my fic shit #my one shots #black writers #black coded reader #choso x black!reader #sukuna x black reader #itadori x black!reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #bimbo reader #gold digger

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spellwell · 1 year ago

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only mine || Druig

human!Druig x fem!reader

summary: Druig was never the best boyfriend, leaving you to feel indifferent to the idea of staying with him. When you've finally had enough and try and leave your toxic relationship, Druig will do anything to make you stay.

trigger warning: angst, slightly manipulative Druig, cheating, smut, penetration, oral (f receiving), toxic relationship, praise, alcohol consumption.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I hope you enjoy, just a lil one-shot for an idea I had. Sorry if grammar is not perfect I wrote this quickly. interact for more fics :)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

A tear ran down your cheek as you watched your boyfriend rest his hand on the small of the anonymous woman's back. The lights of the club lit up around you, but you didn't feel bright at all. Your heart was breaking as the sight unfolded in front of you.

This wasn't a new sight to behold, neither was the sting. You and Druig had been together since high school, now in your second year of college, it's felt like forever. When you two had first met, it was like you were floating. He treated you like you were the only girl in the world. Everyone wanted to either fuck him or be him, except for you. That's what you believe drew him to you.

Druig was always known as a partier and a charmer. All of those traits grew with time, only making it harder. It started with subtle flirting with girls in the high school halls, growing to grabs and winks at parties when he got too drunk. Not only was he a flirty drunk, but a bit of a hot head as well. You knew Druig would never lay a hand on you, but his venom laced barks he called words were unbearable.

"God Y/N, it's seriously not that big of a deal. I was jus' talking to her!" Like you totally didn't see his hand brush her ass.

"Would you quit looming over me! I'm not even that drunk, you're bein' way too much right now! God you're so annoying." If you hadn't been there he would have fallen and cracked his head.

You on the other hand always tried to do your best by Druig. You loved him so much, you forgave and over-looked so many things for him. Not everything was so bad after all, he was your first kiss, first lover, even your first date and he meant everything to you.

So here you were as usual, standing off to the side of this club watching your boyfriend who comes over every 30 minutes to kiss you on the cheek. You didn't even know why tears still spilled when you'd see it.

Your eyes finally trailed off from the pair, giving you a moment to breathe, knowing that if you went over there he'd just holler, he was hammered.

When your eyes reluctantly returned, your face went beat red, the tears now pouring out in pairs. He was kissing her, on the lips, nearly falling over her, grabbing at any flesh he could. Your legs practically carried you out of the door of the club, thumping against your lovers shoulder as you left.

"Y/N... Y/N wait!" Was all you heard over the music as Druig whipped around, discarding the woman he was playing with. He knew it was you from the smell of the perfume he loved so much and the soft sob that left your lips.

Any plea or apology that came out of his mouth went in one ear and out the other. "Fuck!" His voice was booming and distressed, realizing he wasn't going to get a word.

He had followed you for a while before giving up, accepting that nothing he could shout after you would make you budge. The tears continued to burn her now raw cheeks as the approached the street her apartment was on. Pain was the only thing you felt as defeat and heartbreak over came you. That was the last straw and even though it would hurt, no body deserves to be treated like this.

Some time passed, allowing you to calm down and gather your thoughts that still felt so jumbled. It didn't take long before the dreaded knock came thundering on your door. "Baby... babe please... Baby, i'm begging you, open the door, just talk to me please." You knew it was him before he even spoke. With every word he said your heart tugged some more. Words could not form on your tongue and the palms of your hands began to sweat. "Y/N!" he boomed out in sobs, continuing to abuse your apartment door. "I can't take this darlin', don't you leave me!"

The same sobs and words he always spoke, almost like he didn't actually think you'd do it. Annoyance began to stir inside of you, setting aside your sadness. With a huff, you stood up towards the door.

As the door flew open, you were met with a very disheveled Druig, still tispy but much more coherent. Your mouth hung open to speak but all that came out was a choked out sob. "My love..." His voice came out soft, almost pathetically.

"No Druig!" Your voice cut him off before anything else could be said. "You can't take this? I can't take this!" Your voice broke through hard sobs, fists balling to your sides. Your eyes fell to the floor below you, "I... I won't do this anymore Dru..." Your eyes now lifting and meeting his concerned gaze. "I just can't be with you anymore..."

The words sat in the atmosphere for a moment, vibrating off the walls of the tension.

All you wanted to do was shut the door in his face and hide, afraid that you'd fold to the man you love at any minute. Eye contact was avoided as your hand came to shut the door.

The sound boomed as his hand caught the wooden door, quick steps making their way behind you. Your feet couldn't have moved faster as you reached for the door knob of your bedroom. "Y/N.. baby... no" he spoke sternly yet softly as his hand grasped for yours, a little less softly.

You attempted to pull away, weak from the mental breakdown you felt like having. "hey..." he trailed off, now pulling you forward in a more gentle nature, towards him. "Don't say that.. don't-don't do that my love you're mine."

His voice had a tension to it but he continued to speak with laces of honey. "Say somethin'.." Your chest was now flush to his, his hand moving up to rub your wrist, up to your arm.

"Dru...I can't...I-" Another sob broke your words in two. The tears flew down your face, cheeks red and lips puffy. The grasp he had on your arm released, moving around your hips. He held you close, burying his face in your hair like it was the last time he'd feel it on his cheeks. Your arms wrapped around him in return, wanting comfort from the one you love even if it was his fault your eyes poured.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry..." Soft kisses left his lips, planting themselves on your head. "I'll change, all for you, you're everythin' to me. She was nothin', absolutely nothin'..." His head hooked down, continuing to whisper sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down

You never understood why but the manipulation of your feelings came so easily to Druig. He always knew how to touch you and what to say to calm your nerves even when they were towards him. Your breathe evened, fully beginning to submit to the man before you, like you had done so many times.

His hands now trailed up and down the small of your back, gripping slightly at the tops of your hips. "You have to be mine, I don't want anyone else touchin' my girl.." His tone darkened, staying at your ear. His breathe fanned gently against your neck, making your knees weak and stomach bunch. His fingers tugged and felt at the end of the tight shirt you wore. You wore all black, just for him, knowing he loved it.

"Did you wear my favorite shirt just for me darlin'?" A small chuckle left his lips making goose bumps appear on the nape of your neck. His face now moved to press his forehead against yours, your heartbeat and breathe now quickening due to your arousal and nerves. "Yes..." It came as barley a whisper, still feeling the desire to please your man.

His teeth bit softly at his lip, a small smirk apparent. "Good." His voice stern yet sweet, eyes now locked with yours. His hands made it's way to cup your face in hand, gently rubbing at the tear stains on your cheeks. "No need to cry beautiful... I'll always be all yours." The words themselves almost threatened to make tears bud as you became completely immersed in Druig once again.

His lips fell onto yours gently at first, passion growing by the second. "And you will always be mine. Have you seen the way men look at you gorgeous? They can't have you." A small whine left your lips as he broke the kiss, pushing your bedroom door open. He backed you up slowly and softly towards your bed as another deep kiss filled your senses.

You took a soft fall to the bed as he pushed you towards it, now looming over you as if you were some kind of prey. "Oh darlin', your not leaving me, I haven't had my way with you yet." A comfortable burn and tingle entered your core at his words. His arms come up to pull the leather jacket he was wearing to be discarded on the floor. His shirt was tight against his body, showing every inch of him that you loved.

"Dru..." Your voice just above a whisper, coming out as a breathless moan. His shirt came off next, to join his jacket. Your eyes scanned his torso, making you bite the inside of your lip. "Sit up." His voice coming out demanding. As you sat up he dropped to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. He licked his lips before running his hands up your thighs and up to the hem of your shirt.

You watched him closely as you followed his silent direction to pull off the shirt, even if it was his favorite. His hands moved up your now exposed sides as he leaned up and in closer to your chest, giving each breast a soft kiss. Your eyes felt trained to stay on his, his hands running now up your back, skillfully unclasping your bra.

With the last layer from your torso gone, his hands moved up to kneed at your mounds before taking a bud in between his lips and giving it a teasing suckle. A breathe escaped your lungs faster than you were prepared for as your eyes fluttered. He didn't forget to give the other bud attention, leaving marks on his way, before dipping back down where you wanted him most.

He started to grow impatient, pulling your shorts and panties off in one go. Suddenly his patience returned, parting your legs slightly, nipping at the most sensitive part of your thigh. You jolted, him pulling you farther into his face, now inches away from your core.

"Is this what you want?" He said, almost chuckling at your desperation, your hips rocking, gradually trying to reach his lips. He hummed, leaving a quick stripe of his tongue against your folds, making you shutter and whine. He decided you deserve good girl treatment and pressed his face against your pussy that he knew all too well, smiling against your clit. Gasps left your mouth as he began to work at your favorite spot, his hands running up and down the tops of your thighs.

Druig loved seeing you like this, all fucked out and anxious to have something, anything. One of his hands dipped in between your now wet folds from his spit and your arousal, teasing your entrance. "Please... I'll be good." The most clear thing he's heard you say all night. He chuckled against your clit, doing you the honor of entering a finger in you. You continued to beg, moaning at the new feeling. You knew the more you begged the more he liked it and the more he gave you.

Your body began to shake and the knot in your stomach started to unfold as you gripped the base of his brown locks. Your body fell back into the bed making him groan and stop all motion. A whine left your lips, feeling overstimulated from the denial of your orgasm. Your mouth opened but nothing but sounds could escape.

"I like to watch you fall apart." He said lustfully but sternly. He gave your now puffy clit a few hard taps before pulling your torso back up, now looking into your eyes. "You keep your eyes open and look at me, understood?" You nodded quickly begging for release. That didn't seem to be enough, his face still cold staring you down. "Yes! Yes, I understand." This made his expression change to delight, his head dipping back down and finally giving you what you needed.

His name fell from your lips as his fingers worked perfectly, re-building your orgasm quickly. Druig grinned, listening to his name being chanted like a prayer as your walls squeezed and convulsed around his digits. Keeping your promise you held onto his arms to hold you up, never breaking eye contact.

Once he helped ride out your orgasm, he leaned up, placing his lips on yours making you taste yourself. Moans fell into his mouth from yours as he pushed you back down gently onto the bed, now biting at your neck.

Watching you fall apart made him eager to make you fall apart again. He made quick work of his pants and boxers, tossing them aside before coming back down to your level. He brought you into a passionate kiss, running his hands against the slick of your wet folds, collecting some and pumping his cock with it. "I love you, I love you" He chanted a few times in her ear, running his length in between your folds. Pleas and whines left your lips as you felt the familiar feeling of him sinking into you. Your head fell back, a soft groan leaving Druig's lips as he bottomed out inside of you.

He began to rut in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping together increased as his speed did. He kept it hard but passionate, claiming but also loving you. Your bodies close, sticking together from sweat as desperate sounds left both your lips. "No body feels as good as you do." He groaned out, lips brushing each other, foreheads touching. His arms captured you close, legs and arms wrapped around him, hands exploring his broad shoulders. Your bodies moved together like they belonged, hitting every spot inside of you.

You felt his movements becoming more erratic, knowing he was close. Your own release crawling it's way down your body. You couldn't even find the words before you started to have your second orgasm. Usually degrading names and dirty words would escape Druig as you came but his lips captured yours, moaning your name into your mouth as he came inside of you.

He rode out both of your orgasms as he muttered pussy drunk words to you breathlessly. Instead of falling next to you, he pulled you close now soft inside of you, wanting to be as close as possible. He made a soft hum against your neck, peppering small kisses. He reluctantly moved away to look into your eyes, adoring your scent. His voice loving but stern he spoke:

"You're only for me to have. Do you understand me my dove?"

"yes Druig."

"I love you darlin'"

"I love you too."

the end.

longing4decay

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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✶ Bliss ✶

✶ Pairing: model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: Weeks of being caught between your two lovers, sitting idly by as your heart battles your head, must come to an end. You have to decide once and for all which door to leave open and which to close forever.

✶ Word Count: 2k-ish

✶ Warnings: a lil possessiveness, reader's getting over some insecurities, heartbreak, oral sex (f receiving), some strong language

✶ A/N: This is the last of a three-part series. You can find 🖤 part one here 🖤 It took me a bit to finish this because life was doing its thing but I'm happy with how it turned out so I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is...

As he lulls you down from your high with gentle kisses along your neck, you await the intoxicating afterglow you’re accustomed to. Only there is no glow in the "after". It's dark and empty, Hyunjin’s words echoing through your mind on a loop.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

It was such a rush the first time you realized how badly Hyunjin wanted you. He’d confessed to you front row at a fashion show. To anyone watching there was nothing notable about the quick whisper in your ear or the brushing of his hand across your knee. They couldn't fathom the way such small gestures had turned your world upside down.

You felt so special. Special enough to let him see you in secret with promises that one day you’d go public. Make things official. Be a real couple. Finally have the love story you dreamt of.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

The undertone of toxic possessiveness sours the nostalgia sweetening this reunion, bringing you to a realization that has somehow eluded you up to this point. In his eyes, you’ll always be a thing. A precious thing, his absolute favorite thing, but always you belonging to him and never him to you. This is not your fairytale and he is not your prince.

“This can’t happen again” you sigh, pressing your hands to his chest to create distance between you. Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes at the foolishness of such a statement, “Will you say that next time too?” You could go back and forth with him, exchanging verbal jabs until he beats you into submission, but it’d be for nothing.

“Take care of yourself, Hyunjin.” You smooth out your dress and throw your jacket back on, pushing past him with an indifference no one’s ever shown him before. Give him your love. Give him your hate. He can find a way to work with either one. Your indifference, on the other hand, is alien to him. It’s a savagely forged blade to his gut, slicing him open and leaving him to bleed out in the halls of his own exhibit.

“So you love him more? Is that it?” he calls out, catching you before you disappear forever. You pause, searching for the most honest answer that you can offer. “I love me more,” you say, shocked by your own words, “at least I want to love me more, and I need someone who makes that easy for me.”

“And he does?”

“Yes, actually, very much.”

Thoughts of Minho wrap around you like a warm, fuzzy blanket making you crave his presence. Wherever he is, doing business in Seoul or on a shoot in LA, you want to be there. “Hyunjin, honey, people are pulling up!” his manager, a sharply dressed older woman in designer glasses, announces strutting through the doors. You peek outside to see how right she is. His adoring public is already arriving, ready to file in and shower him with enough affection to last a lifetime.

Not that any of it will ever be enough. Not when the only one who matters is about to walk out of his life. His manager looks you up and down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here. “I didn’t know we were opening early” she quips, cutting her eyes at you. “I’m leaving, actually.” “Oh, what a shame.” Hyunjin interrupts, nearly knocking into his manager to get to you, “See you around sometime?” “I'm sure you will.”

Waving goodbye to his manager before she sets you on fire with her mind, you throw yourself back out into the cold autumn night. As the door of the gallery shuts behind you, so does the door leading back to what you shared with Hyunjin. You know without question where your heart is. It’s not with him anymore and it never will be again.

“You want me to go hiking?” you ask, smiling politely at the waiter setting your plate down in front of you. “Thank you” Minho nods to the departing waiter before turning his attention back to you, “Yes, you. We can spend the whole weekend hiking and camping. It’ll be nice to get away, don’t you think?” You’ve never seen Minho this excited about anything. He may not show it on the outside but that little twinkle in his eye gives away how passionate he is about the trip and how much it'd mean to him if you came along.

Next week will be the first time in a while that you'll both be free of your hectic schedules and all he wants is to be with you. Of course, you want the same thing, even if you run the risk of being eaten alive by bugs in the process. “I think it’ll be wonderful” you agree, twirling food onto your fork, “Let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to wrestle a bear.” Minho nearly spits his drink out laughing, “Who said you had to wrestle a bear?” You grab a napkin, reaching across the table to wipe the wine from his chin.

“That’s what you do when you go camping right? Forage for food. Wrestle bears. Challenge mountain lions to a foot race. Survival show stuff.” Minho can’t find the words to explain how completely wrong that is, he’s too busy trying to keep it together in front of the other diners. Osteria Francescana is one of those restaurants that's impossible to get a reservation at unless you know someone. They won’t even put you in their book if you don’t meet the standards for their elite clientele.

It’s always made Minho uncomfortable to be in places like this. As gorgeous as it is, with its fancy menu and candlelit dining room, it’s not really his scene but tonight it has to be. He wants to ask you something. Something that has him nervous enough that he couldn’t touch his food if he wanted to. He thought that getting dressed up and taking you out on a romantic date might give him the courage to say it but he's quickly learned that it makes no difference. You scare the hell out of him all the same.

“Have you thought about us?” he asks, forcing himself to get it over with. You sense that something’s off. Not knowing what, you proceed with caution. “Thought about us as in...” Minho clears his throat, fidgeting with his rings. “Being together. Just me and you. I know that Hyunjin—” “Hyunjin isn’t anything to me,” you say, refusing to let him go any further. You knew that this would come up eventually. Minho never pressed you about your history with Hyunjin. He never asked if you still saw him or forced you to open up about your feelings but he was bound to get curious. It's only natural.

Maybe he’s been avoiding it, too afraid of what the truth might be, but there’s nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest. You lock eyes with him, taking his hand, “I love you, Minho. You’re the only one I want. I've known that for a while. I just didn’t wanna rush you.” Correction, talking about the camping trip isn’t the most excited you’ve ever seen him. This is. His ears are turning red and he can’t stop himself from smiling no matter how hard he tries.

“Rush me? No. I love you too. I always wanted—I do want—will you be my girlfriend?” “I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You rub your cheeks to chase away the tingly feeling coming over them. He asked you, he really asked you. Instead of stringing you along with only the hope of something serious, he went for it. It heals your wounded heart, wipes away some deep seated pain, to know that he loves you the way that you love him.

“We should do something to celebrate. What do you think?” “Hmm,” you muse, one of your high heels skimming the inside of his leg. Minho tilts his head to the side, glancing under the table and back up at you with a mischievous look on his face. “I wasn’t talking about that.” you scold, realizing too late what you’ve started, "Get your mind out of the gutter. No!"

Teetering on the edge of the black marble sink, you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making noise. Sneaking away from your table had been easier than you thought. No one seemed to notice you walking off to the bathroom or Minho slipping in behind you a few minutes later. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You shouldn’t be doing this and that’s precisely why it feels so damn good to do it.

Any worries you have about getting caught disappear when you feel the warmth of Minho’s mouth pressed against your core. He catches himself humming at the taste of you as he licks up one side and down the other. Repeating it until your clit’s stiff and twitching, begging for his attention. He flicks his tongue against your clit just enough to get a reaction out of you. You run your fingers through the soft strands of his chestnut hair, tugging at it to signal that you want more.

Kissing the plush of your inner thighs, he spreads you wider to admire the beauty of you being so drenched and needy when he's barely done anything to you at all. Slowly, he dips the tip of his tongue into you, swirling it in circles just beyond your entrance. “Please” you whine, melodic and low. Minho grins at how adorable you are. “So cute.” You grab onto the sides of the sink, fighting for control of your trembling body. “Shit, why do you taste so good? Hmm?” he pants, diving back in for more.

A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure too intense to contain. You shove your fingers into your mouth, a desperate attempt at blocking the next one but it only works for a short time. Before you know it you’re drooling around your fingers, moaning between rapid, shallow breaths. Knowing that he needs to work quickly to avoid suspicion, he devours you with the hunger he should've had for his dinner. But you're so much tastier than anything this restaurant could offer him.

The wilder he laps at you, the wetter you are, and the more of you he needs. Nothing has to be said for him to know when you're close to your peak. Your body gives you away every time. Minho takes your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, steadying you as the tension snaps, leaving you clenching around his tongue. A sensation of pure bliss radiates through your body as he holds his pace, stopping only when you're too overstimulated to take anymore.

Standing up, he brings you into his arms and rests his head on your shoulder. He holds you lovingly, not expecting a thing. To him, you’re the most precious woman, his absolute favorite, and at last, you belong to each other. It means everything to bask in this moment—in any moment—with you. You close your eyes, kissing him on the forehead, bathing in the ethereal glow of the “after”.

This is your fairytale and he is your prince.

#stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader #stray kids x chubby reader

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chuusei-matsu · 1 year ago

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Would the osomatsu-san crew let you peg them?

Heads up! Below is gonna be some nsfw stuff if you couldn't tell by the title, if that's not your vibe, skip this! Read some of my other stuff! Maybe even suggest me something to write about!

Osomatsu would be up to it iiiiif you made a bet with him or offered him something. After all, it's "fucking gay to be pegged" as he would say but 50 bucks is 50 bucks. However he would become an absolute bottom bitch for 50 bucks, not realizing that he actually really likes it until it happens.

Your boy Karamatsu would let it happen, he would let you peg him but you'd have to get him like the flashiest but also most "manly" strap on ever. He actually is a little indifferent to it, it doesn't feel bad to him, but it's not necessarily something he prefers though. But if it's something you like, then he'll do it to make you happy... Also it does end up feeling good after a little.

Choromatsu is absolutely against it, he will absolutely dump you if you even try to peg him. Now the big reason why he doesn't want you to peg him is because it's "unmanly", but the real reason why is because he doesn't really want to become a butt-slut, but it's obvious that he's already a butt-slut.

Ichimatsu refuses to even consider the idea. He is open minded to all things, but he's had a fear of things in his ass ever since ESP kitty. Maybe some day in the distant future if you really comfort him, he might let you finger him, but pegging is just too big of an ask for him. He wouldn't enjoy it either, it's just not for him.

Jyushimatsu would be open to it! It's not his first choice but he wouldn't completely turn you down either. He ends up liking it way more than expected and will often hint at doing it with you, it's become basically a way to motivate him. He does something good, he can get pegged if that's what he wants, it also just gets you guys closer and can be intimate.

Todomatsu is the one who BEGS you to peg him when you guys are alone. He's always been into the idea but you're the only person he trusts with that knowledge. Obviously he loves it and begs often, but you didn't expect how badly he would like it until you basically had him begging and screaming for you to fuck his brains out.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu-san headcanons #choromatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #popular #osomatsu matsuno #ososan #mr. osomatsu #jyushimatsu #jyushimatsu matsuno #ichimatsu #choromatsu #karamatsu matsuno #Karamatsu #osomatsu x reader #Osomatsu-san smut #todomatsu matsuno #todomatsu #men gets pegged

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ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

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Traditions (Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

Summary: It might be your first Hanukkah with your boyfriend Flip Zimmerman, but you're determined to make it one you both remember.

Words: 4794 Warnings: PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Sex on Hanukkah. Sex on the kitchen floor.

When you awaken that winter morning, you find that Flip has already left for work. If you're being honest, you’re glad he’s on the early shift, it gives you more time to prepare. You smile to yourself, excited for the surprises you have planned for tonight… The first night of Hanukkah. You’re sure that Flip doesn’t even realize the date, but it doesn’t matter cause you’re doing all of this for him.

After going undercover to infiltrate the KKK, he’s been more drawn to his heritage, though he hasn’t allowed himself to fully dive in. You know it’s because he feels unworthy… After a lifetime of feeling indifferent about being Jewish, he feels like he’s intruding on something that should have been close to his heart from the start. What right did he have to his Jewish roots when others had sacrificed, bled, and stood proudly for them? But to you, there’s no right or wrong way for one to experience their religion. Just because Flip hadn’t grown up going to temple or having a bar mitzvah didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to the Jewish religion now. That’s why you’d done research at the library and the local temple, reading up and asking a rabbi for advice on properly celebrating Hanukkah. You wanted to give Flip this, wanted him to feel comfortable to explore this part of himself. Especially with you. And perhaps, if tonight went well, it would lead to the two of you celebrating Hanukkah again next year. You had done everything in your power to ensure that nothing would get in the way of that. Starting off with ensuring that Flip wouldn’t get stuck working late. A quick call to the chief informing him that not allowing one of his detectives to observe a religious holiday would probably sound really bad to a union representative had sealed that deal. The chief had claimed to enjoy your “spunk” in calling him behind Flip’s back, but either way, he promised to send “your lover boy” home at a decent time. Now came the fun part…decorating and cooking. You hop out of bed and quickly wash up to prepare for the day before heading downstairs. There’s a lot to get done and you’re a mix of nervous and excited. Excited to see his reaction, but nervous to screw things up. You’ve never cooked these recipes before. What if they turn out horrible? You try to shake off your nerves. They won’t stop you now. You would do your best for him and that was it. The first thing you work on is making the dough for the challah bread since it has to rise multiple times before it can be braided and then baked. At least…that’s what the recipe book said. You say a silent prayer before setting the dough to the side to rise, and then you get to work on a less nerve-wracking task—decorating the house. You hang long white fairy lights along some of the walls, drape blue tinsel over the fireplace mantel, and lay out Hanukkah-themed table runners along the coffee and kitchen tables. But you don’t stop there. Multiple candy bowls filled with chocolate gelt and dreidels are placed around the living room, knowing that Flip has a secret sweet tooth. You still aren’t fully clear on the rules of spinning dreidels but you’re certain the both of you could figure it out. That or just enjoy munching on chocolate. Either way, that isn’t the most important part of tonight. After your conversation with the rabbi, you learned that menorahs are usually passed down through families and generations. Knowing that wasn’t an option, you had searched every antique shop in town until you found something perfect—a beautiful brass menorah with the Star of David under the middle candle. You polish it until it shined and place it in the center of the coffee table with white candles. With the rabbi’s help, you had written out the prayer that is traditionally read while lighting a candle each night. Alongside the prayer is a yarmulke, in case Flip wants to wear it.

With the decorating done, you head back into the kitchen to start on dinner. Following along with the cookbook you borrowed from the library, you fry potato pancakes, otherwise known as latkes, roast potatoes, prep the brisket for the oven, and braid the challah dough. It isn’t long until the entire downstairs is filled with the most wondrous smells. You’re more excited now, certain that the smells are a good sign that the food will be equally delicious. Knowing you don’t have much longer before Flip gets home, you head upstairs to change. You want to look good but not overly fancy, so you decide on a simple black knee-length skirt with a soft, white cashmere sweater, and black, heeled boots. Pleased with how you look, you head back downstairs to finish everything up. You end up cooking until the very last minute, barely having time to plate all of the food before the sound of Flip’s car turning into the driveway. “Shit!” you curse and hurry to put everything out on the kitchen table along with the good china plates and a bottle of wine. The front door opens and you freeze in your spot, wanting him to find the surprise on his own. You listen to the sounds of him making his way inside, taking off his boots and jacket before setting them aside in the hallway closet. He calls your name… Tells you he’s home… Comments on how amazing dinner smells… Then his breath catches in his throat and all goes silent. Flip stands in the entryway of the living room, taking in the scene before him. The room is basked in a romantic, and yet inviting, glow, from the lights to the menorah and the other decorations. He stands there, jaw slack and too stunned to speak. What a lucky bastard he is. “Sweetheart? Get in ‘ere!” You do as you're told without hesitation, but the minute he sees you, he wraps you in his arms. “Babygirl, did you really do this all for me?” You smile up at him and nod. “Happy Hanukkah!” If you wanted to say more, it’s cut off by his kiss. It’s passionate, fiery, and all the things you love about him. “Wait, Flip! Wait!” you protest against his mouth in between giggles. “I have more to show you!” He chuckles in amusement and releases you from his hold but instead takes your hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” “Good! Now, come on.” You take him into the kitchen and show him all the food you’ve made. “I followed the Jewish cookbook I got from the library exactly, so hopefully everything tastes good!” Flip cocks a brow in surprise. “They actually make Jewish cookbooks?”

“Uh-huh.” You blush, biting your bottom lip to try and stop the word vomit that’s building in your throat. Maybe you had misread the situation or done something offensive. “When…I spoke to the rabbi, he told me that menorahs are usually passed down from generation to generation, but…I know you didn’t have one.” You swallow hard, trying to gauge his reaction but still, you can’t seem to shut the hell up. “The one on the coffee table is an antique. Now you’ll have one forever, to pass on to your children.” You realize what you said a second too late and internally die a little. “That is…if um…you want to.” But Flip isn’t listening, because suddenly, he’s picturing the future. One where a four-year-old sits on his lap to help him light the next candle on the menorah while you watch with your belly filled with a second child. You squeeze his hand, he still seems to be in shock but you can’t be sure. “Is…Is this all okay? Did I…do alright?”

It’s the uneasiness in your tone that snaps him from his daydreams. He turns to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

He wants to reassure you, but he finds himself overcome with emotion. “I…don’t even know what to say. How did I get so damn lucky?” He tries to laugh to stop the tears that threaten to prickle his eyes. “Thank you…for doing all of this. Thank you for loving me enough to do all of this.” Your lips find one another again, but this time softer than before. His hands hold your face steady as you lovingly kiss. Your arms wrap around his middle, feeling more and more like melted butter by the second. “I love you, Flip Zimmerman. I just wanted you to feel accepted and safe to start your own traditions here with me.” “I do, Babygirl, I do.” He talks in between kisses as if it’s too painful to stop, “God I love you.” The kisses continue until the sound of his stomach growling pulls you apart. “Uh, Darlin’? Can we eat now? All I had was black coffee and cigarettes for lunch.” “Flip!” you scold and lightly smack his upper arm. He shrinks back, pretending to be wounded and holding his hands up in surrender, but all the while, he laughs. You glare at him with your hands on your hips. As wonderful of a boyfriend as he is, he’s still crap at taking care of himself. “Can you wait a few more minutes? We’re supposed to light the candles before we eat.” His laughter dies down, “Wow…you really weren’t kidding about researching this stuff.” His bewilderment and sincerity touch you, causing your hands to drop from your hips. “I had to make sure everything was perfect for your first Hanukkah.”

“You’re the one that’s perfect,” he states firmly before interlocking your fingers together. “Let’s go light our very first menorah.” Your heart swells at his words and the two of you walk back into the living room. The two of you sit in front of the coffee table where the menorah is set up. You hand him a yarmulke and a piece of paper with a prayer written on it. “The rabbi said this is the prayer to read while you light the candle.” Flip hesitates, not sure if he feels deserving of the honor. He hadn’t been the one who did all this work, you had. As if you can read his mind, you speak up. “If you aren’t comfortable, then we don’t have to. I know there’s a lot of new information here, but we can take it slow and make our own traditions. Don’t let the fact that I became a little overzealous with my research intimidate you. If you want to try this, then I’m right here with you.” Hearing you mention creating traditions together warms him. He leans forward and places a hand on your cheek. “You did more than I could possibly ask for. And yes…I want to try this. Just…don’t make too much fun of me mispronouncing the words in this prayer.” “I wouldn’t be able to tell if you did.” You chuckle and leave a kiss along the inside of his wrist. Taking a breath, he places the yarmulke on his head and does his best to recite the prayers. He stumbles over a handful of Hebrew words. It makes him feel self-conscious but you just smile reassuringly, nodding at him to encourage him to continue. With the prayer read and the candle lit, Flip takes your hand in his. You sit in silence together, watching the way the flame dances, causing the light to bounce along the walls. His gaze falls on you, his eyes sparkle with happiness at how peaceful you look basked in the candlelight. “I’m guessing tomorrow night, we light the second candle?” You nod before looking back at him. “Should we go eat now?” His back straightens fully at the mention of food. “I thought you’d never ask. My stomach’s been aching for a taste since I walked through the door.”

You playfully roll your eyes and stand. “Well then, we better go and get you some food. I can’t let my man go hungry.” You take him into the kitchen and tell him to make himself comfortable while you make him a plate filled with latkes, roasted potatoes, and brisket before making your own plate and sitting down. ‘Now, before we eat, you have to–” You hand him another piece of paper with two other prayers. “Read these. The first prayer is meant to be said before we cut the challah and the second before drinking the wine.” Flip reads both, doing so with a bit more confidence than before. A sense of pride fills him at repeating these words that have been said by countless generations of Jews. “That was wonderful,” you praise and then you both begin to eat. You watch him carefully, wanting to gauge his reaction to tasting the food. “Please be honest if something doesn’t taste good and I’ll practice to get better at it.” But the man sitting across from you is too busy moaning blissfully at the flavors filling his mouth. “Shit, babygirl, you’ve really outdone yourself.” You nearly dance in your seat from happiness. “I’m so glad! I was worried it wouldn’t taste good enough.” Flip extends his hand across the table and squeezes yours. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky in finding you, but I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you just how much you mean to me.” Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, beyond the point of euphoria. “Shhh, come on now, no tears. This is meant to be a happy occasion. Hanukkah is about keeping faith and miracles.” You raise a curious brow and he sheepishly chuckles. “You’re not the only one who’s been secretly reading up on the holiday.” The rest of the meal flows effortlessly, the both of you enjoying the food and one another’s company until he sits back in his chair with a contented sigh. It pleases you that you’ve made him so happy, but you have one more surprise for him. From your skirt pocket, you pull out a small black box and slide it over to his side of the table. “Flip?” The sound of his name catches his attention and he looks back to find the gift box. “Little One? What’s this?” “Open it and find out,” you reply in a sing-song voice that has him chuckling. He opens the box and finds a simple gold chain with the Star of David hanging from it. A small gasp of surprise leaves his full lips. He gapes at you, unsure of what to say. “I know you mentioned that you misplaced your old one while you were undercover because you had to take it on and off so much. I hope you like it.” He doesn’t have the words to express his gratitude as a swell of emotion starts to overcome him, so instead, he kisses you—hard. The kiss steals your breath away. So much so that you’re left dizzy. “Thank you, my love,” he whispers hotly against your mouth before sitting back down. Still dazed, you giggle slightly. “You’re welcome. Let me start cleaning up so we can spend the rest of our night relaxing.” Not waiting for a reply, you stand and carry a stack of dirty dishes to the sink.

Flip watches, slipping the yarmulke from his head and putting his gift around his neck before following you over to the kitchen sink. “Can I do anything to help you clean?”

You brighten at his offer, thankful for the help. “That would be great!” You hand him a dish towel with a cock of your hip. “I wash, you dry?” He agrees and the two of you get to work. Every once in a while, Flip playfully splashes you with sudsy water, laughing every time you huff in irritation. You’re adorable and he just can’t help himself. With the dishes done, you move on to wrapping up the leftovers and even pack some for his lunch tomorrow. “I’m going to be the envy of every guy in the squad room. They're all going to be wishing they had the chance to taste your cooking.” “I can pack you extra to share!” His hands find your hips, lovingly gripping them in his large hands before pulling you forcefully against him so your ass is pressed to his crotch. “Not a chance, Little One. It’s all mine…and so are you.” Without warning, he spins you around and crashes his mouth onto yours. You aren’t sure what’s got him so worked up, but truthfully? You don’t care. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in for more. Which he gladly gives by slipping his tongue into your mouth. A tiny moan leaves you from the sensation. Flip grins at the sound. You want more but he breaks the kiss. “Does my girl want more?” You nod, your pupils blown wide as you search his. “Please, Flip.” Your plea is enough for him, so he drops down to his knees before you. Grabbing your skirt, he bunches it up at your waist, pleased to see the damp spot that’s already started to form at the front of your panties. He runs the tip of his finger over it but avoids your clit. “Seems like you have something else for me to eat.” You whimper, now realizing what he means to do. “Hold your skirt up for me. I need my hands free.” You do as you're told but it feels so taboo to be standing here in the middle of the kitchen, exposing yourself to him. But you don’t have much time to think about it because he starts ripping off your shoes and panties. He looks up at you, looking incredibly smug, which only makes your cunt drip more. The moment you're bare, he pushes his nose to the cleft of your cunt, breathing in deep. His groans, eyelids fluttering as his cock jumps within the confines of his jeans. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet but rough, “You’ve done so much for me today. Now, you deserve to be worshiped.” He brings his hands to your ass, gripping it tight and pulling you close so he can drag his tongue through the folds of your cunt. The flat of his tongue makes you whine, your hand reaches for the counter ledge that’s just behind his head while the other keeps ahold of your skirt. “D-Don’t stop. Feels good. Y-Your tongue feels so good!” You're grinding into his mouth now, chasing more pleasure for yourself. Watching you sends shockwaves down his body. His cock throbs in his dark denim, aching for release. He reaches down to unzip his pants, moaning into your cunt as he frees himself. Precum drips from the tip of his cock down onto the floor. His fingers find their way to your slit, slowly pushing one…and then two fingers inside. You cry out, head tilting back as you moan into the ceiling at being stretched out by his thick digits. The legs holding you up begin to shake, but luckily, his other hand holds you at the base of your spine. You look down at him and catch sight of his hard cock, jutting up from the front of his jeans. “Oh. Oh fuck, Let me take care of you, Flip. Let me take care of your cock.”

But he only growls and picks up the pace of his fingers. He doesn’t want to hear your words, he only wants you to cum. The mixture of his tongue flicking at your clit and his fingers filling you up has you forgetting everything else. Your peak steadily starts to roll through you. “Right there! S-So close! I’m so close!” You can barely finish speaking before you’re cumming. The hand that had been holding your skirt shoots out to take hold of the counter, needing it for balance as your orgasm rocks through you. Your skirt falls over Flip’s head, but he doesn’t stop the movements of his tongue and fingers until your body starts to relax. He moans low in his belly at the taste of you, only removing his fingers and sitting back on his heels so he can check on you. Pushing your skirt off his head, he holds your gaze while fucking his fingers clean. Your cheeks burn with color and Flip chuckles with a grin. You just came all over his face while standing in the kitchen and you still have the decency to blush. You’re just too adorable and perfect. He pushes himself off the floor and grabs your face to claim your mouth again. You cling to his shoulders, body molding against his so you can feel his cock pushing against you. You start unbuttoning his plaid shirt, tugging at it aggressively to get him naked. “Take me? Right now. Right here.” “Naughty girl wants to be fucked on our kitchen floor that badly, huh?” You whine at his teasing but go quiet when you realize he’s guiding you both to the floor. He settles between the apex of your thighs, aligning his cock with your sopping hole. You wiggle against him in anticipation. “So needy for it. Here then—take it.” And with that, he plunges inside, groaning at the way your walls hug him tight. He gives you a moment to adjust, your toes curling at how deep even his first thrust is, but that moment doesn’t last forever, and soon he’s picking up his pace. You cry out and Flip revels in the sound. Gripping your hips, he slams into you until he’s certain he’s hitting your g-spot. Your back arches off the tile floor and you screw your eyes shut against the overwhelming pleasure. Usually Flip took his time to work you up to the point of total abandon. Sometimes even edging you so you’d beg, but not tonight. Tonight, he fucks you hard and fast like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the privilege of watching you cum. Your moans are drowned out by wet skin slapping together. Your cunt is so wet that you’ve managed to drip onto his balls and inner thighs. “Look at me,” he commands, using his authoritative ‘cop voice’. You do so and find his eyes blown black with lust and his face flushed with sweat. The sight takes your breath away. He looks positively feral. “I want to watch you fall apart. Want to see your soul leave your body just so it can come crashing back while you scream my fucking name.”

Your cunt clenches around him at his words. You love it when he talks like this. Filthy and possessive. His nostrils flare as he huffs hot breath across your skin. How he’s able to keep his stamina up is a mystery, but still, his thrusts are unrelenting. You can’t deny how much you love him laying claim to your body. “Yes! Fuck, Flip, yes!” you continue to moan a string of curses and pleas as you wrap your legs around his waist so you grind into his thrusts. With the change in the position of your legs, he too rearranges himself. He places his palms flat on the floor on either side of your head, completely leaning over you and driving his cock even deeper into your aching cunt. You didn’t think he could fill you up any more, but leave it to Flip Zimmerman to find a way. A pressure builds in your lower belly, tightening and threatening to crack open. However, your gift dangling from around his neck comes very close to hitting you in the face. He immediately notices and makes a move to pull back but you’re faster. Your hand reaches and presses the Star of David to Flip’s chest…directly over his heart. “I love you,” you breathe out, holding eye contact with him. “I want this forever. With you.” You swear he whimpers, emotion softening his features but all the while bucking harder into you.

“I want this too. Every Hanukkah. Every year together with you.”

A smile breaks out across your face and you use the chain around his neck to tug him to your mouth.

You both moan into the kiss, movements becoming sloppy.

He stumbles over your name before telling you how close he is. You echo his words back to him, knowing you’re moments away from being driven over the edge.

But that’s not good enough for Flip when he wants you to crash and burn beneath him. He brings one of his arms between your bodies to find your clit and strokes it just right.

Your body starts to shake.

You leave rational thought behind and all that is left is the primal need flowing through your limbs.

“That’s it. Come on baby, cum for me!”

You wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself even if you had wanted to. Your inner walls close in around him as you cum, holding him in place and hugging him tight.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” he grunts repeatedly until he’s tossing his head back in a howl and filling you with his cum.

You both rock against one another as you come down from your highs. Eventually, Flip slumps down to rest in the crook of your neck. The kitchen falls quiet except for the panting you’re both doing in an attempt to catch your breath.

He recovers before you and lifts his head to kiss your forehead before meeting your gaze. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You respond with a dreamy ‘uh-huh’, earning you a chuckle from the man still on top of you.

Carefully, he detangles himself from your legs and the heat of your cunt so he can lay beside you on the cool tile floor.

“Mind if we lay here for a bit? You wore me the hell out.” He chuckles and extends his arm so you can rest your head on his bicep.

“Wore YOU out? I’m the one who’s lying on the kitchen floor feeling like jelly.” You only mean to tease but his other arm finds its way around your middle.

With a playful growl, he hauls you to him, smashing your back into his chest. His large hand sprawls across your stomach, tickling you. You squirm, giggling, and look over your shoulder to kiss him.

The kiss halts his movements and instead has him humming against your lips. When the kiss is broken, he turns his attention to the junction of your neck. Pleased that he seems too preoccupied to continue tickling you, you finally rest your head on his bicep and close your eyes.

You relax within his embrace, enjoying the feel of his lips and facial hair as he leaves soft kisses along your flesh.

He whispers your name, causing your eyes to flutter open. You look over your shoulder at him again.

“I want to say thank you for everything you did for me tonight. You could have simply said ‘Happy Hanukkah’ to me and I would have been over the moon…but the fact that you did all this just for me blows me away.”

You can feel tears watering up behind your eyes but you hold them in so you can continue listening to what he has to say.

“And I…meant what I said before about wanting to spend every Hanukkah with you. Well…any holiday really. I want to spend them all together and make our own traditions, like you said.”

You can’t hold back for a moment longer. Twisting in his grasp, you turn over so you’re facing him and throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, Flip, nothing would make me happier!”

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him, and whispers that he loves you.

Another calm silence falls between you. To an onlooker, the scene would look peaceful if it wasn’t for the fact you were both half naked, lying on the hard kitchen floor.

But the two of you are too content to care about anything other than snuggling.

Time passes, and within the quiet, a devilish question comes to your mind.

“Flip?”

“Hm?” he responds.

“If we’re going to create our own traditions, does this mean you’ll fuck me on the kitchen floor at the end of every Hanukah meal?”

His back straightens as he looks at you in alarm until laughter emanates through his entire frame. “Naughty little slut,” he teases, giving your ass a swift smack.

You squeal and try to wriggle away, but he easily pins you down and tickles you until you’re breathlessly begging for mercy.

Eventually, he relents, but still keeps you pinned down to kiss you one last time. “Happy Hanukkah, babygirl.”

#lady in writing #adcu community #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu smut

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slasher-dasher · 1 year ago

Note

Halllooooo

Of you are comfortable can you write headcanons for

Brahms, Billy, Stu, Bubba, OG!Micheal myers, and Jason Voorhees reaction to seeing their s/o with fresh or old SH marks/Scars?

Comfort headcanons with them would be *mwah!* cheifs kiss

(Anon I'm so sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy!!)

Slashers Reactions to Seeing S/O's Scars

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Brahms:

Hard to hide them (if you are) since his eyes are constantly on you. If you're not, he stares at them before asking questions, (He's very blunt, the only scars he knows about are burn scars for... obvious reasons-)

Speaking of, since he has his burn scars, so he knows how to care for yours, and he is so so careful about cleaning and wrapping them. The last thing you need is a worried Brahms and an infection

Rubs them sometimes, usually when you're asleep or if you two are cuddling. It's always absentmindedly, and once he realizes he's doing it, he stops and hugs you

He wears his mask less around you, generally because he trusts you and partially because he knows you won't push him away. The support goes both ways in this house!!

Wraps you in his cardigan for comfort, especially if he sees fresh marks

Very very mindful about where he clings to you, he doesn't want to hurt you

Billy Loomis:

It takes him a bit to process, but once he does he's looking up as much as possible, but ends up getting frustrated at all the information and just asks what he can do to support you

His biggest tactic on a bad day is distraction, usually by asking to take a walk or watching a movie. If that doesn't work, he gets you a cold water and sits with you. He's much more of a listener than a talker

Will punch anyone who upsets you because of them (and in general). Don't expect to see that person again

If he sees fresh marks, he won't comment on them but he will look at them every once in a while to make sure they're healing properly

Overdramatic kisses, like he's saying "mmmwah" on every scar to make you giggle. He's trying to make sure you feel safe and comfortable around him by knowing he'll never judge you

Stu Macher:

Harm-reduction master. He knows all the techniques and figures out what works best for you

Also helps you figure out any triggers you may have and how to navigate them when he is and isn't home! He wants to make sure you'll be safe either way

Wraps you in a blanket and comforts you on a bad day. Makes you tea, gets your favorite snacks, sets up the TV for your favorite movies/shows, and plays with your hair on the couch all while showering you in support

Tries his best not to look worried but is internally screaming whenever you're hurt, he's a very emotional guy when it comes to you

He trusts you though, and does his best to make sure you know he's always available if you need him

Bubba:

Texas heat means he likely sees them from day one. At first he thinks they were caused by others, but if/when he sees fresh marks he puts the pieces together

He doesn't want you to have a heatstroke while working, but he also wants to make sure you're comfortable, so he'll send his brothers away and stay close to you around the farm

He does technically know how to clean and dress wounds, but he does get a bit panicked because it's you he's helping, not just one of his brothers who got unlucky while chasing a tourist

Makes sure his brothers don't joke about them or use them against you. Drayton made a comment once and he lost his mind.

Happily and regularly checks up on you, he sees it as part of his routine to ask you how you are just in case you need him but don't know how to approach him

OG!Michael Myers:

He's indifferent about them for the most part

On one hand, he's lived around people who had scars practically his whole life, so he's used to seeing them in general. On the other, he wasn't used to seeing them on you, and he took a little longer than usual to process the first time he saw them

Has many of his own, and isn't shy about showing you them if it would help you feel more comfortable around him.

Knows how to tend to his own wounds, so he doesn't mind tending to yours

Support headpats. They're his "I love you/I'm here for you"

Sticks around you more than usual for a while, just to make sure you're alright, you might even get a hug if he's feeling brave. He'll even get in bed and cuddle if you've had a really bad day

Will kill anyone who comments on them in any way that makes you upset.

Jason Voorhees:

Doesn't quite understand them, which makes him very curious.

Always taps your shoulder to get your attention if he wants to see them, and nods and kisses your forehead if you say no

He truly does mean well though, he wants to know how to help you if you're in distress (and in general)

Makes sure to bring you a gift every day! Most of the time it's flowers he found around camp, but he will settle for a nice leaf as well

Tells you you're beautiful/handsome all the time (through sign and body language too). He did this before knowing too, but the guy loves giving you words of affirmation, even if he can't speak them

Kisses them often, his mom always used to do that when he got hurt, and it helped him, so he figures it'll help you a little bit too

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lizzychanstuffss · 4 months ago

Text

Remembrance: Love and Deepspace AU 2

Au premise: So, what if mc actually remembered everytime she's reincarnated, and what if she regrets the choices she's made in every single reincarnation and is finally using this timeline to try and fix it once she realizes this might be her only chance. But she is entirely unsure if the boys remember their past lives with her, so she must navigate all these feelings along with judging if they remember too. AN: Tee hee Xavier time! I was actually a Xavier girlie before Sylus took me. Anyways nothing all that special to note here enjoy! Also this wasn't proofread either!

Chapter 2: Xavier Prologue

Your hunter's watch beeped, taking a peak at the glowing screen you took in the candidates and nodded to yourself as you stood. Making your way out along with a few other hunters. The location was nearby, you got on your bike and kicked it into high gear trying to beat the wanderers before they could cause any major damage to the surrounding area or cause any casualties. It was late spring and the winds were starting to change.

Once had arrived all the other hunters had already gone off before to try and gather intel about the current situation. Doing the same you headed off in a direction you didn't see anyone go, it seemed to lead to a warehouse. The place was abandoned, the vines and broken windows and broken off door gave that away.

Shrugging you headed inside the building figuring there might be a wondered hiding somewhere inside. Leading with your gun you headed inside ready to attack if needed. Your breath was steady nothing about this call was unusual so you were rather calm, and also you really didn't think anything would be in here. Or so you thought.

As you walked forward you eventually were stopped by the sight of a man sitting on the ground. However, as you got closer the features started to become clearer and then instantly you recognized the face. You stopped a few feet away from him, an invisible wall forming that you couldn't quite pass.

So instead you went to turn around, but it was to late by then. He had woken up.

Don't turn around

So you didn't, you kept walking, trying to get away. But unfortunately for you, he was just a bit faster.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was more flat than normal, a tinge of worry bubbling up in your chest as you turned to face him. You hadn't realized how close he actually was, only about a foot of distance between the both of you. You were left speechless as you took in his features, along with a dull ache.

"It's dangerous here, wanderers are around you should leave" You kept your tone flat not wanting to give anything away. Not wanting him to know that anything was off about this. He just shrugged unbothered by your warning.

"I'll be fine" Your eyebrow twitched, you may love him but at this moment it was becoming increasingly clear how indifferently stubborn he could be. You crossed your arms about to give him a stern talking to but then you came back to reality. A reality where you aren't lovers and he's not the crown prince of Philos.

"It's my job to make sure people aren't in harm's way, unless you're a hunter you shouldn't be here"

"I am a hunter...." He informed you.

"Why didn't you lead with that?" You just stared at him as he gave you another shrug of indifference. Before you could get more annoyed with him there was the sudden rawr of a nearby wanderer.

"Well seems like duty calls, let's go!" Both of your demeanors turned serious as you headed outside and there was a group of wanderers surrounding the building. Xavier quickly summoned his light sword and you aimed your gun starting to fire at a few of the beasts.

Although something odd then happened during this fight, the two of you without thinking resonated. It was second nature as you both summoned a blade of light and struck down several wanderers. But neither of you even thought anything of it in the heat of the moment.

Eventually, you took down the final wanderer, wiping your brow you huffed a smile on your face as you spoke. "Good work Xavier-" Cutting yourself off as you spoke before looking over at him. You hadn't even realized you said his name without thinking.

"You did a good job too," He said his sword dissipating into light. You let out a sigh as he seemingly didn't notice you said his name when you shouldn't know it, or he simply didn't think anything of it.

Wait...why didn't he think anything of it?

Looking over to him you decided not to push your luck for now in case this ended badly.

But didn't you want to avoid him, didn't you think it would be better if you weren't in his life?

There was a storm brewing in your mind.

Are you sure you want to do this? What if he doesn't remember you? What if he hates you? You should just leave.

Biting your lip you were about to walk away before you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning around his eyes were looking into yours, this time it seemed like he was searching for something. The moment only cut through when he spoke again.

"Do you want to go back to the Hunter's association together?" He was giving you those puppy dog eyes that it seemed like you could never quite resist no matter how hard you tried.

"S-sure we can" And of course you gave in.

"Thanks, did you take your bike here or a car?" He asked his tone soft as he let out a soft yawn.

He was always so cute when he was tired.

You almost smiled at that but held back not wanting your intentions to be shown in the moment just in case this ended poorly for either of you.

"Bike, you fine with riding on the back?" You asked him raising a brow as you made it back to the area you had parked along with the others. Who had just happened to also make it back all around the same time? Xavier got some looks from the other hunters before you quickly reassured them that he was with you. Xavier just gave them some pleasant smiles and explained that he simply had a different uniform than the other hunters. You felt like that might be a lie but you actually had no clue yourself.

The ride back to the Hunter's association was uneventful and also rather short. Once you had gotten back you simply assumed you would part ways.

It's better this way.

But to your surprise, Xavier just stared at you before asking.

"How did you know my name?"

There it was, those dreaded words. Or maybe this was a blessing, maybe you should just come clean, and then if he thinks you're crazy and leaves then you'll never have to see his face again and the guilt, the pain can just all go away. But what if....he remembered too? What then? Would you simply just keep living but pretending that you two were royalty in your free time, or should you go and try to stop crime with wanted criminal Lumerie the possibilities actually sounded fun when you thought about it like that.

"I must have seen your file or something" It was the best you could up with at the moment, you didn't have the guts, to be honest. Not yet anyway.

Wait, not yet?

No, you couldn't do that to yourself, one mission with him was fine but seeing him more. You knew the guilt would eat at you to much for something like that.

"Well then I'll get going then, oh right my name is Y/N by the way. Just in case we see each other" You knew why you were talking like this. Because as much as that guilt ate at your very soul, there was a part of you that craved him. You wanted to hold him in your arms and whisper sweet nothings to him while he was fast asleep on your chest stroking his hair. That was the part that was driving this need to fix the damage you caused him in the past life.

"Oh, okay, yeah of course" There was a happiness in his tone that you couldn't help but wonder if you caused. But you knew a surefire way to test it so.

"Actually...if you wouldn't mind, would you like to get some lunch tomorrow? My treat" You gave him a warm smile.

Smiling was always easier when it was at him.

"Oh, sure, that would be nice" His tone wasn't full of any apparent emotion and yet you know how to read it. He was happy, but why? He shouldn't know you think time. Should he?

"Great, I'll see you tomorrow then" You nodded to him as you waved goodbye and headed back inside the building. As you walked away the guilt started to set in, the fear and doubt. But at this point, it was too late and you had committed so you might as well make the most of it.

#lads xavier #xavier x mc #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #lads writing #my writing #love and deepspace #lads x reader

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stealthnoodle · 6 months ago

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How to Scrape Your Way Through Honour Mode and Look Reasonably Good Doing It

I won't say I beat Honour Mode on my first try, because my Dishonour Mode playthrough served as a critically useful dry run, but I will say that the first character I made with the intention of completing Honour Mode properly did in fact complete Honour Mode.

Below are the 13 most important lessons I learned along the way that made this possible.

1) Do not be Mothman.

You really want to minimize fights and maximize available vendors. Ask yourself "What would Mothman do?" and then do not do that thing.

2) Do be a half-orc.

Fights can go real wrong real fast, and in the early game, you are perpetually one bad round of combat away from oblivion. In my case, the harpies critted Shadowheart to death, and then every chucklefuck in my party failed their wisdom save at the same time. The other two members ate more multiattacks than they could handle, and then so did Pizzazz, but she held on with one single precious hit point after the last blow. She dug herself out of the hole with heal potions and her fists of righteous anger.

Pizzazz being a half-orc saved the entire run here. Having Death Ward once a day comes in fucking clutch when you're below level 5, and tbh the hardest part of Honour Mode is getting to level 5.

The harpy fight was also when I realized the need for a critical strategy:

3) Make one party member your panic button.

I only really needed this trick in the early game (I cannot emphasize enough how most of my close calls were before level 5), but it saved my ass several times. Panic early, panic often.

Pick the party member who has the least to contribute to a fight and park them where they can't get drawn into initiative. You can leave them all the way back at camp, or if you're me, just put them far back in hiding so it's easy to pull them in to help with late-fight cleanup if things are going well (or to finish a fight in the goofiest way possible, see above). Either way, their job is to run crying to Withers if everyone else dies.

Speaking of which…

4) Exploit Bone Daddy's indifference to being pickpocketed.

You can get back whatever "the price of balance" is by yoinking it right out of Withers's pockets. If you fail the sleight of hand check, no worries; you get pulled out of hiding, but he doesn't react at all, and you can just squat back down and get right back in there.

5) Tell Jesse you need to cook.

Potions of Speed are the goddamn Philosopher's Stones of this game. So I made Gale a Transmutation Wizard, made him proficient in Medicine, and put him in charge of alchemy. Just clearing the gnoll zone got me pretty well set for the first two acts.

Getting double heal pots sure doesn't hurt, either.

6) Start a local chapter of the Warding Bond Cleric Club.

This is something I discovered was possible while I was fretting over prepping for the end of Act 2, because last time was such a clusterfuck. You can hire three hirelings, give them fun names like Ouchie Magnet, Sexy Pincushion, and Yoohoo Loviatar, get them to cast Warding Bond on the party members you actually intend to use, and enjoy the full benefits of it out in the world while your hirelings stand around bleeding at camp.

Any buff that lasts until the next long rest and doesn't require concentration works like this, fyi. Death Ward and Longstrider are also especially handy (and once you get to level 11, Heroes' Feast). Setting this up is tedious enough that I only did it a few times during the game, when I was going into situations I couldn't easily extricate myself from in case of emergency. (So the Mindflayer Colony, the Iron Throne, the Steel Watch Foundry, and one last time for the Temple of Baal.)

7) Break big battles up into bite-sized skirmishes.

Why would I fight all the cultists at Moonrise Tower in a grand climactic battle when I could sneak around before finishing the Gauntlet of Shar and pick off my future foes in packs? Since they're not hostile yet, it's pretty simple to wipe them out one room at a time, using Minor Illusion to lure guards away from their posts. Then I got the joy of showing up with Jaheira and all her Harpers to curbstomp the two (2) guys I missed.

Also good for removing all the intellect devourers before you pick a fight with Mindflayers in the Mindflayer Colony and for surviving gnoll swarms. Sometimes you even get lucky and a hyena falls into a hole, somehow.

8) Fill your camp with literal tons of explosives.

See a smokepowder barrel? Pick it up and send it to camp. Do this consistently and you will have deeply nervous party members every time you light a campfire, probably, but you'll also have a way to cheese boss fights that you're worried about. I chugged elixirs that raised strength before the end of Act 2 so that I could bring a dozen smokepowder barrels with me to the Myrkul fight and absolutely trivialized it.

9) Become a partial illithid.

Mourn your aesthetic and commune with that frosty little worm. (Take Volo's amateur eye surgery, too, btw. Just fuck yourself up.) The powers are worth it. A truly hardcore player would also get their companions to dip a toe into ceremorphosis, but I started by asking Astarion, who fucking loves regular tadpoles, to try it, and his response made me feel so bad that I abandoned the cause entirely.

10) Start your day with a delicious and nutritious Heroes' Feast.

So I never really read the description closely because sometimes I'm just like that, but thanks to the Warding Bond Cleric Club, I started paying closer attention to buffs and holy shit??? Thoroughly Stuffed is a baller condition, and it also makes food. I didn't have to go grocery shopping even once! Having three bonus clerics with spell slots to burn also meant the 6th-level cost wasn't coming out of Shadowheart.

11) Accept that late-game enemy saving throws will mercilessly fuck you.

It feels real bad when you cast a 6th-level spell that operates on saving throws and your target shrugs it off with 0 damage. Spells with attack rolls are usually better bets, and Artistry of War is a wizard's once-per-short-rest MVP. Open Hand Monk Pizzazz was consistently my best damage dealer, especially once I looted the Bonespike Gloves from Strangler Luke.

12) Skip the high-risk low-reward quests in Act 3.

Consider your party composition and tactics and whether any optional quest line is worth completing for its rewards. Cazador, the Sharrans, and Ansur are non-trivially difficult fights that I didn't need to subject myself to, so I didn't. But there's real good shit under Sorcerous Sundries, so of course I cleared out that vault.

Hell isn't actually that bad on Honour Mode (no, really! The restoration faucets have unlimited uses!), but it's not a sure thing and I could live without the rewards. Had a tense moment passing the DC 30 Persuasion check with Kith'rak Voss later, but he chilled out and even let me borrow his dragon's breath.

The only unnecessary hard fight I did was the Steel Watcher Titan, which was a bad call on my part; I kinda wanted the crossbow and I really wanted to keep the runepowder bomb in case I needed it, but Mothman didn't do this fight, so I was not prepared for the Hellfire Steel Watcher Titan's bullshit. I won, but it was a closer shave than it should have been.

Then I ended up not using the crossbow at all.

13) Thank Gale for his sacrifice.

The Netherbrain is fucking nasty on Honour Mode. Fuck Karsite Grip. Fuck Aegis of the Absolute. Does it feel bad to make Gale sacrifice himself? Yes. Would it feel worse to lose the run right before the finish line? Also yes.

I brought every explosive I had with me (which required two rounds of strength-boosting elixirs, because the game hits you with a long rest before the Astral Plane) just in case Gale got cold feet and I burned all my inspiration fucking up the persuasion roll, then went through the sewers to avoid the larger fight. Someone (Gale, so I couldn't be too mad) failed a stealth check and aggroed them all anyway, but Pizzazz covered the ground to the brainstem in like three rounds and everyone warped up after her for the cutscene, so no harm no foul.

Then Gale volunteered—nay, insisted on blowing himself up and I felt bad! Real bad! Not bad enough to change course, but Pizzazz's face was also my face during epilogue:

P.S. At least for me, the achievement procced after the epilogue, credits, and post-credits scene, and I was tense af the entire time. But not so tense I couldn't be sad about Gale (oh no he wrote me a letter) and Astarion (oh no he's still in hiding because of Cazador). Luckily my big hot wife was there to support me.

Anyway, let's load an old autosave on another campaign and check out those golden dice, shall we?

Ahhh, my horrible son

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #stealthnoodle plays bg3 #video #gif #is this a helpful guide or a shitpost? yes.#btw i got all but four hostages off the iron throne while also rescuing duke ravenguard (despite mizora) and omeluum #not a strat just wanted to brag #i would have saved them all if not for their stubby little legs #wyll didn't get his wyrmway but he did get his soul and his dad #so this time there's no “sorry wyll” tag #instead this time it's #sorry gale #and sorry tara

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