#and then hes like: yeah if you annoy him i will drag you into the fighting pit

[rafesangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ everyone is lucky farmer’s!daughter!reader is in a jail cell when she finds out her favorite sheriff isn’t around because he’s on a date with another woman..

warnings: mentions of being groped in public, just a little bit of southern dialect, small town gossip, mentions of jj x reader, lots of comebacks and insults, jealousy, implied age gap, reader stays the night in jail, hitting, very slight physical altercation, reassurance, comfort (?), little bit of kissing, suggestive ending

a/n: read more of sheriff!rafe and farmer’s!daughter!reader here <3 i would say this particular situation takes place in the beginning stages of their complicated relationship lol. read how sheriff!rafe’s date went here!

wc: 1.5k

“what did she do this time?” sheriff thornton looked up from his desk, an amused smile playing on his lips as you glared at him from under your lashes. “she threw drinks over at keith’s son, ‘said he groped her and all hell broke loose.” your wrists ached as the metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your boots scuffing the concrete flooring before the sheriff behind you plopped you down in a chair. “she gave me a hard time and resisted arrest, so now she’s here.” you scoffed at his words, a bitter laugh emitting from your throat. “i gave you a hard time because you tried to apprehend me before the asshole that started it!”

both of them ignored you, leaving you to sit uncomfortably in the main office while bryan, the newest rookie in the department, got your paperwork together. “uhm— do you have anyone you could call? it looks like you’re going to stay the night in here..” he looked almost scared as he broke the news to you, his eyes blinking rapidly as you shot daggers at him from where you sat. “are you pulling my leg?” you narrowed your gaze, “there’s no way in hell i’m spending the night here.” you shook your head, hopping onto your feet. just then, topper came in and sat you back down.

“i’m already in the shit house with rafe for manhandling you last time, don’t make me do it again.” speaking of rafe.. “you’re not scaring anybody, topper.” you used his first name against him, catching him off guard. “where’s sheriff cameron, anyways? i’m sure he’d love to know that you haven’t fixed my skirt since i’ve gotten here. i think the new boy has already stolen a peek at my underwear.” bryan’s eyes widened at your words. “i haven’t, miss, i swear!” topper glanced over at him with irritation evident on his face. “she’s fuckin’ with you kid, jesus.”

dragging you up by your arm, topper lead you to the back where the holding cells were. “it’s a shame you’re wearing nearly nothing,” he shoved you inside, “it’s gets pretty cold in here.” you cursed under your breath when he finally uncuffed you, your fingers itching to punch him square in the mouth. he watched as you adjusted your denim mini skirt, his eyes trailing down your bare legs. “you’re a mystery, y’know.. ‘way too young to be acting up like this.” if you had a penny for every time someone brought up your age, you’d have enough money to leave this shitty town and never look back.

“and you’re just annoying.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest before sitting at the edge of the cold steel bed. you should’ve been used to the discomfort by now, considering you’re here at least once a month, but you still couldn’t help but shiver at the harsh contact. “i need to talk to sheriff cameron. i shouldn’t even be here.” topper walked out of the cell, locking it shut behind him. “yeah, well he’s not on duty tonight. my pal finally scored himself a date.” he laughed. you felt your stomach twist at his words. not a damn thing was funny. “what did you say?” your voice was barely above a whisper when you looked up at him and met his eyes.

“yeah,” he nodded, “me and the department decided we’d stitch him up with ms. belle, she teaches the children’s sunday school down at the church.” he winked. your leg was bouncing now, your chest heaving with anger as your eyes brimmed with tears. “who knows, maybe after tonight they’ll be the newlyweds of the town.” you looked down at your feet before topper could question anything, your nails digging crescents into the palm of your hand. once you heard the heavy metal door slam shut, you covered your mouth with your hand as tight as you could and screamed.

rafe was so scared of what people would think of you two, he never showed you affection in public, let alone take you out on a proper date, yet here he was; willingly taking someone else. no matter how many times you told him you didn’t care about what anyone thought, he insisted that it was for your own good that no one saw you running around with a man who was much older than you were. the people of this town were far too judgmental to just accept something like what you and rafe had. figuring it was pointless to use your one free phone call, you settled into the hard surface before curling up and shivering yourself to sleep.

“y/n..” it was the next morning, and you were far from letting go of the information you found out last night. “y/n, you’re free to go.” your eyes were open as rafe patted your back lightly, his touch only fueling you with pent up anger. turning around, you shoved his hand away, your eyes bloodshot from crying so much. “don’t touch me again,” you hissed, “not ever.” rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you got up on sore legs. “i had to stay here all because you were too busy with someone else!” you spat, shoving him again except this time in his chest.

“hey, you stop that!” he said through gritted teeth, shooting up to his feet before backing you up against the cement wall. “i hate you!” you whispered, attempting to get out of his grip. your efforts were deemed useless of course, your strength being nothing compared to his. “no you don’t.” he pinned your wrists down by your sides. he hated when you said shit like that, then again he knew you had every right to feel the way you did. nothing about your shared arrangement was fair, especially for you. “i went on that date for the sake of getting everyone off of my back, alright? it didn’t mean a thing.”

you laughed, avoiding his heated gaze. “well surely it meant something, because you agreed. you agreed and got ready and dressed nicely for her. you fixed your hair, you shaved, you put on your best smelling cologne and you picked her up. don’t you dare tell me it didn’t mean nothing when you put in that much effort.” rafe blinked, his nostrils flaring as he cupped your chin and forced you to look at him. “it didn’t mean a thing.” he repeated. you stared at him, reading his eyes as best as you could. “sure.” to say you were hurt would be an understatement.

“i mean it,” he started, “i did it for appearances. i’ve never been married, i don’t have any children. people talk around here, y/n, and just recently did i hear something about us both. people are catching onto your ‘get out of jail’ free card, and you could only imagine what their reasoning for that was.” he grimaced, recalling the disgusting words filtering the air of the diner where he drank his morning coffee. while the claims weren’t completely false, his said intentions couldn’t be more wrong. “rafe,” you glared at him, “i. don’t. care.” not wanting to rile you up any further, he let go of you before you could get the bright idea to knee him in his manhood.

“you know.. how do you think i feel when i have to see you around here kissing jj fuckin’ maybank, and i can’t do shit about it, huh? how do you think i feel when i see him have his hands all over you? you think i like that shit?” you rolled your eyes, about to step out of the open cell before he shut it closed. “why do you do that? why do you get joy out of pissing me off?” rafe caged you between his arms, his gun holster digging into your hip.

“first of all, i’m keeping up appearances just like you.” you stood up on your tippy toes, pecking his cheek before you placed your lips right next to his ear. “and secondly; you only act like you care about me when i’m all over someone else. it’s either that or i have to get into legal trouble just to get you to myself. so you try to imagine what that makes me feel like.” you pulled him close by the buckle of his belt, his large hands finding your hips as he towered over you. “do i really have to go to jail just to get a kiss?” rafe leaned down, his lips finally taking your own. he groaned at the taste of you, your cherry lipgloss still sticky with its sweetness.

you two stayed kissing like this until he grew rock solid in his pants, the buckle of his belt not being the only thing poking your tummy. “i don’t want you with any other women. i can’t take it.” rafe nodded, his bottom lip shining with your gloss. “you have my word, sweetheart. i’ll set aside time for us to be together, i promise.” his sheriff’s hat tipped to the side, revealing his buzzed scalp. “but if i see you with that maybank kid i’ll have to lock him up for good.” you smiled, your red nails raking down his buff arms. “yes, sir.” rafe cursed at the nickname as he glanced down at the digital watch on his wrist.

“i got about an hour to spare..” you hummed at his words, palming him through his pants.

“well what are we waiting for?”

[taelophone]

Bitter ʚɞ ⸝⸝⟡⋆˙⟡ — Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆TWs: Liquor . Jealousy . Annoying/Disrespectful friends . ｡⋆A/N: A lil palate cleanser before I gear up to write the most filthy creation to hit my table <3

You made a conscious effort every day to be the best version of yourself, biting your tongue, minimizing conflict, and stepping into your bigger shoes whenever you felt yourself nearing slipping off the chain.

But it was hard when your boyfriend was so highly regarded— attractive in all his right and kind enough to keep men and women orbiting him in silent lovelorn. It was hard to stay calm and collected when it seemed like every other day there was a new woman begging for a slice of his confectionery attention.

Luigi, however, was none the wiser. Every new face with a warm smile pulled a fresh coat of hospitality, his arms stretched wide with welcome to every face that seemed to spark interest.

There’s nothing wrong with being friendly, really. But there’s only a certain amount of flirty comments and forced physical interaction you can witness before the bitter citrus burns your parotids.

Like now.

You had dragged your homebody boyfriend out for the day, claiming a need for oxygen and socialization in the form of what was supposed to be an intimate little get-together between you and a couple of your friends. What you hadn’t expected was for friends to bring other friends.

Not that you were mad! After all, the more the merrier. What started as a small house chill became a quiet gathering for drinks and charcuterie, courtesy of Helena’s last-minute catering cancellation. 

The issue began to bubble to the surface when one girl, in particular, began to take a sudden interest in your boyfriend. At first, you dismissed it, recognizing that your boyfriend was a rather interesting individual.

So instead of fussing and pouting, you chose to remove yourself from the situation before it boiled over. Your faith lay in Luigi, trusting him enough to know he would never shatter that faith.

But it still stung.

The blaring buzz of bitter envy sounded through your ears like a bunch of barmy bees. The light tap of her backhand on Luigi’s shoulder, her eyes sharp on the man in front, fixated on the goal of love.

“No! Oh my gosh, no! That’s not true, you’re literally so strong. Like, I can see your muscles,” she gasped, pinching the side of his bicep with feigned disapproval woven in her flattery.

The first crack in your resolve. Porcelain, but far from perfect.

“Haha, yeah, uh—? Sorry, I think I lost my girlfriend..?” He said, frantically whirling his head around the kitchen in search of your familiar silhouette. 

“Aw, you ditching me? Runnin’ off to your ball n’ chain?” She mused, paired with a chuckle that seemed way too enthusiastic to be anything less than what she thought was the truth.

“Ha…haha, no. I just really miss my girlfriend” he chuckled. Breathy and uncomfortable, a clear warning sign of nearing his limit. “But it was nice talking to you!”

“Of course! Find me later, I’ll give you my number. I’d love to talk more” she offered with a pat on his broad shoulder.

And with that, he fought back a mildly confused arch of his brow before traversing through the sea of people in pursuit of you. What a strange experience…at least she’s friendly.

He shimmied his way through the hallway, taking a brief moment to admire the little intricate archway connecting the kitchen and the living room. It was a warm Tuscan brown, perfectly made with a nice round arch—nice.

He found you a couple of feet away from the kitchen, arms crossed in defiance with a hefty glass of some white wine you had been swirling around in its brandy balloon. A warm smile engulfed his features as he sat down next to you, one that was quick to fade when he felt the icy cold aura that radiated from your stone face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, pinching his brows together with innocent confusion.

You sighed, a puppeteered smile creeping up on your face; one that failed to meet your eyes with venomous twinkles. 

“Nothing. Totally fine,” you huffed, rolling your eyes as far as they could go in such a short amount of time.

“No, c’mon, don’t do that…” he said, a flicker of desperation and annoyance crossing his features.

“Go talk to Mindy, maybe she’ll help you understand what’s wrong” you blurted, sharp and pointed with intent to harm.

He sighed, putting down his little can of beer on the coffee table. An elbow came to rest on his knee, propping up his head by his chin as he stared at you.

He was never really the type of man who liked beating around the bush and much less when people around him did it, but he was making an effort for you. With open ears and a heart full of affection, he tutted his disapproval but tugged you closer to him by your shoulders.

“Oh, my jealous baby…” he cooed, a cocky grin forming on his face as he sweet-talked you into cavities. “So worked up…did I make you jealous? I’m sorry, my love.”

“Stop that…” you huffed, leaning away from his touch with crossed arms.

“You poor thing must’ve been so lonely without your terrible wretched boyfriend,” he teased, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you into his lap to pepper gentle kisses to your head.

“I’m…” Kiss! “So…” smooch! “Evil!” Smack! “How will you ever forgive me?”

“Luigi, stop!” You breathed out in between quiet giggles, pink bubbly bashfulness bubbling under your cheeks as he garnered the many sympathetic and supportive eyes of people around you. “You’re making a scene!”

“I’m not afraid to show my wife I love her” he fired back with a wet and almost grotesque kiss to your neck that would have sent the average child into a spiral of gags and barfs.

“Okay, okay, enough!” You laughed, pushing his wandering lips away from your neck and jaw. “I forgive you!”

“Good. ‘Cuz you’re the only one I have eyes for here. Sorry I made you feel jealous, I didn’t know how to shake her off me” he smiled.

And the night carried on with the clinking of wine glasses, sports banter piloted by 5 ex-frat boys with lopsided caps, kisses and smooches from the lovebirds, and occasional grumbles from a very grumpy, stood-up Mindy.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: Wanting a break from the relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Attempting to ask for a break in your relationship massively back fires against you - something you should've known.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊

–

You: “You know I love you right?” you start, hesitating for a brief moment. “But I think this isn’t working …maybe we should take a break.”

Hawks

“You know what? You’re absolutely right. We really need a good relaxing break, don’t we?” you’re not expecting Keigo to agree with you, and he laughs at the shock on your face. “How do we feel about Hawaii? You always wanted to go there, right?”

Confusion replaces the shock you felt just brief moments ago. You stare at Keigo, bewildered at the strange turn of the conversation. 

“What are you talking about?” you question. 

“What are you talking about, my adorably confusing girlfriend?” he laughs it off, humorously. “You said we need a break and I totally agree with that. Plus, I think a romantic getaway is just what we need right now, it’s about time we get some vacations.” 

“No, Keigo.” you stop him, “What I mean is that we should take a break from each other. Give it some time, y’know.” 

There’s a moment of quiet silence and Keigo’s smiles, a stiff and hard smile that does a good job covering up the upset clenching of his jaw.  

“Aren’t you being a tad bit dramatic with that? I mean, we’re perfectly totally completely fine, so what’s with that idea?” he questions you. “Why you tryna break something so perfect? Let me guess, attachment issues flaring up?”

“Because it’s not perfect, Keigo.” you answer back, a bit annoyed. “And we’re not fine, despite what you think. If you haven’t noticed, then maybe you’re not very clever, are you?” 

That golden gaze, usually so warm, now burns with an intensity that makes your throat tighten and a wave of regret immediately washes over you. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” he agrees, slowly dragging each word. “Maybe I’m not very clever. Cause if I was more clever, then maybe I would have noticed that you have a tendency to be overly dramatic.” 

The turn of the conversation leaves you stunned. What?

“Dramatic?” you echo, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Keigo, we’ve been fighting constantly. You don’t listen, and I feel like I’m—”

“—Like you’re what? Neglected? Trapped?” he cuts you off, before stepping closer, and though his wings didn’t move, you feel their phantom weight pressing down on you. “Babe, everything I do is for you. For us.”

“I work myself to the bone to make sure you have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Don’t I?” his words pinch your heart. “And this is how you repay me? By wanting space? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“It’s not about what you’ve done, Keigo. It’s about how I feel. I just... need time to think. And maybe so do you.”

“Time to think? What’s there to think about, sweetheart?” he huffs, “Who’s going to protect you, take care of you, if you leave? Hmm?”

His wings extend slightly to frame you both in the narrow hallway.

“Keigo, I—”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to your lips, his eyes softening into something almost tender. “You’re upset right now, and that’s okay. But leaving isn’t the answer, dove. You belong here. With me.”

Keigo cups your cheek, so tenderly and affectionately that it clenches your heart. His smile returns, warm and reassuring, as if nothing had happened. 

“Tell you what - let’s forget all this nonsense. How about I book that trip to Hawaii after all? A fresh start, just the two of us. You’ll see how perfect we are together.”

You want to protest, to grab your suitcase and leave, but his wings curl around you in a protective cocoon, and the weight of his touch - his words - render you paralyzed.

Somewhere deep down, a small voice screams at you to run. But Keigo’s voice, low and honeyed, drowns it out.

“See? Everything’s going to be fine,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to go anywhere, dove. I’ll make sure of it.”

And you know, with a sinking certainty, that he meant it.

Dabi

The way his ice-blue eyes stare at you is chilling, to say the least. Dabi looks at you intently as if trying to discover something. 

“Do you remember when we started dating?” he asks at last, leaving you surprised at the random question. “That night on the rooftop where you become mine.”

You slowly nod, unsure of what he meant. It’s only been six months since your relation became official, but it feels as if it’s been a lifetime ago.

There’s been so many major changes in it - you changed, Dabi changed, everything about your relationship changed. And not for the better. 

“Good. Then you also remember when I told you - no - when I promised you that you’d never get fully rid of me, if you said yes. That you’d become mine, til your last breath.” his voice deepens at each step he takes towards you, looming and dark.

“That we’d be intertwined for the rest of our lives. That nothing would stop us from being together, no matter what.”

Shivers run down your spine, and you find yourself paralyzed. Frozen. No matter how much you attempt, your limbs won’t move. You’re completely frozen with fear. 

“Then tell me…” Dabi nears you, looking more mutilated and burned than ever. His hand rises, softly brushing against your cheek and it takes everything in you not to flinch away. “... why are you suddenly too good for me?”

“It’s not like that ….”

Your meek attempt of protesting is quickly silenced when his other hand grips you by the elbow, too firm for you to slip away. He cages you with his body and hands and you are too nervous to stop the sweat that builds up in your back. 

“Go on now, don’t be shy. I wanna hear all the pathetic excuses you got.” he dryly chuckles, slightly heating up his hand or maybe it’s just an illusion of your body, at this time you’re not sure anymore. “Tell me all about it. I’m looking forward to hearing you spew out all sorts of miserable apologies and justifications you can find.”

“Or maybe you’re planning to use the good old excuse everyone uses these days. It’s you, not me.” Dabi mocks you, but the lack of humor in his voice is evident. 

“Dabi, please.” your voice is nothing but a weak frightened whisper, “You’re… scaring me.” 

“Good, maybe fear can drill some good sense into that frail mind of yours.” he scoffs. “Cause I believe both of us know where this is headed. You’re not leaving me.” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, eyes and voice pouring of determination and assurance. 

“You can never leave me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always find you, you know that.” he warns, voice dipping low.

“And you should also be aware that your friends and family are meaningless to me. So, next time you think about pulling a stunt like this I highly suggest you think about their lives. Got it?” 

Deku

There are moments when you feel as though luck has abandoned you since you started dating Izuku.

Today is one of them.

It’s partially your fault, had you realized earlier that Izuku came home in a poor pissy mood you wouldn’t have brought the conversation up. 

“So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” his tone is serious and firm, borderline resentful. “After everything I’ve done for you and yet you are breaking up with me.” 

The unnerving stare of the emerald eyes is enough to make you duck your eyes, and the way he’s towering over you, a powerful mass of muscle and scars, makes you hesitant to meet his eyes. 

“Izuku, please.” you mutter. “It’s just… It’s for the best.”

“No, it’s not. Why don’t you just say it? That you’re just gonna dump me like I’m a piece of trash that got stuck to your shoe? Like I mean shit to you?” he spits, voice steadily rising and his words are cruel and effective enough to hit you hard and square on where it hurts the most. 

“Izu—”

“Is this a joke to you? Huh? Am I a joke to you?” A yelp gets caught up in your throat when his fingers grab your arm. No amount of wriggling and twisting breaks his powerful grip over your wrist, his digits pressing hard against your bone. 

“N-No! Of course not! Izuku, I don’t- Please!” your lips quiver as you beg for something. Mercy. Freedom. Salvation. Anything. “Please, let’s just talk this through and—”

“Talk about what, exactly?” Izuku presses further, messy tufts of green hair falling onto his eyes. His eyes squint at you. “On second thought, I do wanna talk about this. I wanna talk about how long these ideas have been pestering your mind. So tell me, sweetheart, how long have you been planning to ditch me to the side like garbage?”

“It’s not like that.” you try, but Izuku barely allows you to say a few words before he’s speaking over you.

“Better yet,” he glares at you, his nostrils flare up and hand dangerously narrows around your hand’s bone. “Who put this stupid idea into your head? Answer me, damnit!” 

You shrink at his tone, pathetic and unable to stand up for yourself, as Izuku keeps verbally charging at you.

Something in the back of your mind admonishes you for not sneaking away in the middle of night like a quiet mouse when Izuku would be deep in slumber. 

You desolately wish you had done that. 

[candykenma]

Hi, can I pls request Haikyuu pretty setter squad when their s/o is struggling from writer's block or artist's block please?? Thank you =D

I LOVE THIS. PLEASE MARRY ME???

Oikawa

• Honest to god oikawa couldn't careless not in a mean way but hes missed his s/o all week now.

•He literally drags his s/o from the desk and just cuddled them despite the complaints and protest

•when he realizes it's actually getting to his s/o he'll buy they're favorite ice cream. Probally door dash it along with dinner bc if he lets his s/o go it'll be right bk to work for them.

• has his s/o shower with him and face care stuff to distract them.

Sugawara

•HE SIMPLY GIVES YOU IDEAS.

• This man will read what u got and be like "hey do you wanna like have sex at a carnival?" Or whatever random thoughts come to mind after reading and his s/o will go "THATS A GREAT IDEA"

• not referring to doing but instead writing a detailed chapter Abt whatever random thoughts came out of his mouth

• if that doesn't he work he'll sit u down on the couch and make u watch movies with him trying to secretly help u get ideas

•hell show u random stuff on Pinterest or tell u stories that his kids at school told him just to try and give u something to right about

•🥰

Akaashi

• this man right there frustrated wit u

•yall both got deadlines , both got writers block , both starving bc y'all forgot to eat.

• Akaashi probally stops for ant 10 minutes to cuddle with u and rub his fingers through your hair then straight BK to work

• they're was this 1 in incident where you were complaining Abt how cringe everything you wrote sound and he looked dead at you and said "why r u making it cuddly and innocent? You aren't either of those things" 😭

Kenma 😋my baby

•once again he doesn't gaf

• if u ask him for help he'll probably tell u the BK story of a character from one of his games he likes, or just tells u to put it down and he can't help u bc he doesn't read books unless he has too😭

• The definition of no fucking help. He tried and it's cute but baby no....

• if he sees it's affecting your health he'll butt in putting u to bed or taking u put to eat reluctantly,

•he'll offer to run you a bath as well but that's Abt as much as u get

Atsumu

• just as unhelpful and ANNOYING Abt it

• it's not that I have writers block it's that u can't write or think with him in you guys room. Your actually spazzing out so much so u send him to the store with a list of things you need and want jus to write

• he doesn't mean to and u never tell him that but he definitely makes your job harder.

• though u realize u can't write when he's not around either, his crazy stories and random thoughts he blurts out are the material and foundation for ur writing

•He comes BK home and you shower him with cuddles

Kageyama

• Also not very helpful

• I imagine most of the books you write would be smut related, you'd probably be letting out all that untapped pent up energy

•he probally read one of your books once and was like "u wrote this....?" And u jus were like yeah not think Abt the fact all your books are porn on paper with some good plot here and there

• He probally started doing things a bit different like playing into the books uve read in order to give you more content. He'd take you on more extravagant but intimate dates to help the creativity 🤷

I TRIED ITS 2:45 AM.....HOPE U LIKE???

[hiding-under-the-willow]

If the hermit recap team is a paranormal investigation group I wonder what everyone thinks of them, at least Ghost-wise. Are they good at their job? Or do the ghosts watch them flail?

Okay so there's this episode in the show where the main characters attempt to get the ghosts to put on a big show of haunting the house for a bunch of paranormal investigators so they can charge people for ghost tours but all of the ghosts go on strike so they have to fake a haunting in a house that's already haunted. There is a subplot in this episode where a pair of ghosts spend the entire episode presenting a fake radio show to a recording device that's supposed to pick up ghosts, only for it to be revealed at the end that it doesn't actually work and it didn't pick them up at all. I was thinking about this episode both when creating Joe's character and when I decided I wanted the recap team to be reoccurring paranormal investigator characters.

Because I think it would be pretty funny if Joe, who was a radio host in life and can be heard through radios, recording devices, and other technology in death, did this whole bit, only for the team to come back at the end to pick up their recording device, listen back to the recording, briefly getting excited, only for Pix to go "Wait a second, I know that voice, wasn't this guy on the radio back in the 90s?" And they assume that Grian and Joel just played like a rerun recording of one of Joe's old shows as part of the fake haunting, meanwhile Joe can't decide if he should be fuming because his existence is being ignored or if he should be beaming because someone still recognized him some 20 years after his death.

And then they show back up at Grian and Joel's door two weeks later like "We checked this recording, it doesn't exist. Anywhere. And according to our research this guy died on your property. This recording is real. This kind of proof is unprecedented. Please let us investigate your house again."

And so Grian and Joel once again see the opportunity for money and accept. The ghosts continue to stay wary, refusing to directly interact with them, but they tend to just. Create proof on accident as they go about their normal wacky business. And so we have this dynamic where the recap crew keeps coming back to investigate, getting some kind of absurd evidence of ghosts, getting accused of faking it because the house already has a bad reputation for fake hauntings, and the recordings they're getting are absurd, and so they keep having to come back to try to get more.

I like to think Joe starts fucking with Pix by only talking to him when there's no cameras rolling, and so the two end up with a pretty funny relationship where Pix can have full conversations with Joe and yet can never manage to get another recording of him no matter how sneaky he thinks he's being about it.

Half of their job just becomes trying to deal with this one stupid absurdly haunted house that is dragging their entire reputation through the mud. And Grian gets to be like "Ha, yeah, you should try living with them." While trying to skirt around the fact that he can just straight up see and talk to all of them. Plus there's whatever the fuck is going on next door.

Just. this should be the general state of things by the time it's all over

I think it'd be really funny actually if Pix managed to figure out down to the most minute of details what the fuck is happening between these two haunted ass properties and the people and ghosts living in them but the whole experience has run him so ragged and made him sound so insane that everyone thinks he's just lost it and no one believes him. Ghosts so fucking annoying he has to either retire or become a disgraced conspiracy theory youtuber who exclusively talks about the ghosts in these two houses. Everyone thinks he's had some kind of mental break and honestly he probably has but everything he's saying is actually correct.

[stellaclaw]

Genuinely so real that Warriors is such a badly-written series (let's not kid ourselves, it was always an uninspired cash grab since Into The Wild) that very few characters are "nuanced" or "complex" in any real sense even by children's media standards. Thank you for saying it bc it bugs me how a lot of fans (especially outside Tumblr) talk about nuance/complexity that isn't really there as an excuse for awful characterization.

While I'm here, question about your pinned post, if that's ok: Why do you dislike Jayfeather? I haven't reread PO3/OOTS in a while and the main things I remember about him are the ableism (unbearable) and his friendship with Briarlight (nice) so I'm interested to hear your take.

yeah, warriors has always been more conceptually interesting to me than genuinely so. its like. writing prompts the series lol.

jayfeather is just very mean and nasty to people who dont do anything to him, especially as a doctor. iirc, cats are shown to avoid getting medical treatment because theyre afraid of him. he was seriously considering letting breezepelt die because he didnt like him. thats really scary!! thats genuinely fucked up that as a doctor, as somebody with power over peoples lives, hes THAT bitter and biased. he shittalked leafpool at her own funeral, he was nasty to twigkit, a traumatized orphan, he outed mothwings atheism AT A GATHERING to win an argument.

and then theres that disgusting debacle where squirrelflight was nervous about her pregnancy (you know, the woman who raised him, nervous because she just found out she could gte pregnant after being lied to for years), and so frequently checked in with him. he got so annoyed that when squirrel went into labor and daisy came to fetch him, he had to be dragged to the nursery because he decided squirrel didnt know what she was talking about.

squirrels labor was notably difficult, with a stillbirth and one other child dying soon after.

jayfeather spent the next quarter moon “stomping around camp, grumbling about queens who couldnt tell the difference between birth pains and indigestion”

[tanis-fics]

You're gonna go far, kid

The FBC and the Oldest House were dangerous waters to thread and Barry knew that, luckily he could find kinship in an old acquaintance, a girl he met on his former band's glory days who would grow up to be more important than any of them ever expected.

Relationships: Jesse Faden & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 1873 ♦ Notes: Partly based on this post by @lostinthewoodsomewhere

[on ao3] ♦ [read on site]

 The mess hall of the FBC was a crowded place, a neutral zone of sorts where people from all the different departments could meet with one another, eat and wind down. In any other moment Barry Wheeler wouldn't mind the crowd, he would quickly grab something to eat and move somewhere quiet to review what he'd worked on so far, or, most likely, he would use that time to preen and show off whoever his client was at the moment. This particular mess hall, however, was one of the very few places he didn't fear the floor would eat him alive, and it had been some time since he had any particular clients. Not ones he wanted to flaunt over, at least.

 Hard to preen when the stupid dress code kept his options limited too, he sighed, annoyed, as he tried making a beeline to the cafeteria, when a figure standing up knocked him off his feet.

 "Sorr—"

 "Hey, watch where you're fucking—" He hissed, grabbing the couple files that flew off his hands before glancing at the other person, instantly feeling the sense of familiarity attributed to a déjà vu until the realization hit him. He was talking to the woman whose portrait adorned every hall. "Shit, sh- I- I'm sorry, ma'am. Miss?" She was younger than he anticipated. "Boss. Didn't see you there."

 The Director simply raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and possibly irked, and Barry cursed in silence for making a fool of himself in front of the only person here who was worth a damn.

 "It's fine. Just try to be more careful next time." Her tone was dry and he bit his tongue.

 “Will do.”

 Barry thought —hoped— that that would be it, that she would excuse herself and march forward to wherever she was going to when she bumped into him, but before she could turn away the Director did a double take and squinted. Barry stood in high alert as she scrutinized him.

 "Have I seen you before?"

 Barry stared like a deer in the headlights. If the only way he had known her face was because of those portraits the chances of her knowing him were slim at best, unless she recognized him because of what happened in Cauldron Lake, which would be potentially disastrous.

 "Nope, no, I don't think—" The Director kept squinting at him as he dragged his words, until she looked to the side for a second and then snapped her fingers.

 "You were with the Old Gods of Asgard a few years ago, weren't you?"

 Suddenly, surprisingly, Barry felt like he could breath again.

 It had been more than a couple of years, but he could work with that. A tentative smile grew on his lips, the green Communications Agent being replaced by the seasoned Band Manager.

 "I was with them, yeah!” He puffed his chest, wishing he was wearing something more impressive than a white shirt and an ugly, simple tie. “I managed the band for a couple years during their revival tour. You’ve ever been to one of the concerts? Because if you did, you’ve probably seen me there. Yeah, you definitely know me from those." The Director chuckled, and Barry could see some of her stiffness washing away.

 “I wish.” She shook her head. “I never got around to actually seeing them live, unfortunately. But one time, they… they actually showed up at work, my previous work. Got into a pretty nasty fight too.” Barry winced at the memories of having to tail them down night after night, of having to break up fights and pay for whatever was broken this time, but her smile spoke of nothing more than fondness. "You, uh, you gave me a free t-shirt back then."

 Barry snorted. Of course he did.

 Chasing that feeling of familiarity beyond the aforementioned portraits of directorial sobriety he tried recalling where exactly he saw that same red hair before, and was met with a couple matching wide eyes behind a counter. Wide eyes and a grin. Barry remembered being surprised at her happiness despite the mess. Not many people glowed whenever two ancient men started breaking tables around them.

 Funny thing was, she also seemed to be glowing a bit now. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light. Either way, he hummed.

 "Y’know, I think I remember…” He scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Yeah, weren’t you working at some bar? Wasn’t there a guy…?

 Who was, if memory served, very close to harassing her, or at the very least annoying her. Barry never finished hearing the full story, truth be told, the only people present being the old rockers themselves, but according to their drunken ramblings the man had been hitting on her the entire time they’ve been there despite her clear lack of interest. He remember wondering whether the reason why she hadn’t tell him off was because she really, really needed the job, because even at the time she’d seemed perfectly capable of handing herself if things got hairy.

 Which they did, at the time.

 According to Odin he confronted the man and next thing they knew all hell broke loose, a push here, a push back, a glass being thrown around and a bottle shattering against the wall. Usual Anderson stuff, all things considered.

 “Didn’t Tor smash a table on that guy’s back? I remember having to pay for… a number of things.” At least not for her silence. That was what the shirt had been for originally, of course, but Barry would be lying if he said her surprising excitement hadn’t brought a smile to his face in that mess of a night.

 Now it was her turn to wince a bit.

 "Yup. That was me behind the bar. And I’m pretty sure he had to go to the hospital afterwards."

 “Shouldn’t have messed with my boys. Or been a creep, for that matter.” Barry chuckled, before raising an eyebrow. “You... didn’t get in trouble for that lil’ stunt, did you?”

 “Oh, I did.” The woman wrinkled her nose and squinted, thinking back to that time. “Even with all the money you gave me for repairs they still kicked me out.”

 “Fuckin’ bastards.” She huffed, rolling her eyes.

 “Tell me about it. But hey,” shrugging, she pointed at the building above, “got a pretty cool promotion.” He laughed.

 "I can tell! Say, speaking of, how does the under payed waitress from some shitty bar end up as the Director of a secret organization? No offense, of course."

 After a pause, she shrugged.

 "None taken, just came knocking at the right time, I guess. What's a band manager doing in the FBC?"

 His smile cracked for a second, flashes of nightmares that might or might not been real flooding his head before coughing.

 "Oh you know. This and that. I've always been a big fan of the supernatural." He lied.

 The Director looked at him, humming, and for a second Barry thought she was looking through him. Or looking at something behind him? He ignored the impulse to turn his head. This was a test of character and Barry Wheeler could handle it, God dammit. He also knew he couldn’t tell her about his search of anything relating to Bright Falls. To Al. As much as he was fond of the woman, his smile shinning with pride despite the very short time they’ve known each other, he simply couldn’t trust her nor the FBC. Not yet at least. So many things were redacted and behind closed doors, he couldn't, as she put it, simply come knocking. Couldn't he?

 The woman finally opened her mouth to say something, when a third voice distracted her.

 "Jesse!" Jesse? A blond woman with a notepad called at the end of the hall —Barry swore he’d seen her at the Communication Department at some point. Wasn't she one of the Heads of something else?— and the Director replied with a warm smile and a raise of the hand.

 Blondie couldn’t have come at a better time.

 "Well! I won't hold you any longer, Boss." He clapped his hands with finality, taking a step back and holding out one before him out of habit. "Barry Wheeler, at your service."

 Maybe he couldn't ask her right away, but getting in the woman on top’s good graces seemed to be a good idea (better than come guns blazing to a place that could easily kill him by itself, at least). He didn't realize the small wrinkle on her forehead at the name, close to recognition.

 "Jesse Faden." She eventually replied, shaking his hand. Before she could finally make her way out, though, Barry saw a flicker of something on her eyes. "By the way, do you... by any chance do you have any Old Gods shirts left? I know it's a long shot, it's been a while, but-"

 "Hey, I get it. The only thing those rags are good for after eight years is to use as pajamas.” He reassured her. “Don’t worry, I also pop a new one from the pile I couldn’t get to sell from time to time." She —Jesse— chuckled, but a heavy shadow replaced the brief amusement on her eyes.

 "It's not for me, actually, it's... it’s for my brother. He..." For a moment, she seemed to be at loss for words, lowering her eyes for the first time in that conversation, before smiling back at him. “He used to be a big fan of the Old Gods too. I’d love to give him anything from them.”

 Barry wasn't unaware of the looks people around them have been giving them since they’ve first crashed against each other, he remembered what it felt to be around such focal point of gravity, but something about her last request stroke a chord in their vicinity that he couldn't help but wonder about. Something about her brother, clearly. Something rather significant. He'd have to check that out later, but for now, he smiled. Maybe a bit more honest at the admission.

 "I'm sure I can find a couple t-shirts left. And a CD too! If... you still have anything to listen to it."

 Jesse laughed, and for a moment Barry was taken back to that shifty dead-end bar, and the mighty Director became the girl with stars on her eyes.

 "I know someone that might. Thanks."

 "The pleasure is all mine, Boss."

 And just like that Jesse —the Old Gods of Asgard fan— —the Director— walked away with the blonde woman, and Barry finally got to grab his lunch, with the particular glow of someone who’d seen an old friend.

 It would be much later that he would come to realize that if they actually had, in fact, any information of Alan and whatever that might or might have not happened in Cauldron Lake, maybe going around saying his full name might not have been the brightest of ideas.

 Barry was lucky, then, that if there was a person who understood what it was to walk into the lion’s den for a chance to see their loved one again, it was the same girl he met by happenstance after that random pub brawl so many years ago.

[sircantus]

I love how all the AUs you listed get more and more fantastical and epic and then it's just "coffee shop." (Also I would LOVE to see number 19.)

29. Coffee shop but with DRAGONS-

Number 19, fighting arena techno dad: what it says on the tin, its more or less Techno doing a championship battle thing and winning as per usual but as he’s doing the routine he ends up getting a kid (Tommy) attached to him bc he rly rly RLY wants tips from Technoblade, grand fighting arena champion. Techno is like “no go away” for several weeks until Tommy then doesnt appear for his daily 4 clock whining, to which techno then goes looking for him and finds out he’s getting a bit picked on (getting placed in entirely unfair fights) Techno then goes “why are you being mean to my apprentice. Are you stupid” and everyone is like SHIT HES YOURS???

And then Technofather. Because he made the mistake of going “yeah thats my kid” and then tommy proceeded to latch onto his leg and refuse to let go. And then the even MORE fun aspect of tommy going from “annoying random kid” to “technos kid” in the arena with people actively recognizing and trying to be nice to him instead of just ignoring him. Cue scene of him being a little shit as always and someone trying to yell at him before then getting yanked to the side by their friend like “dude do NOT piss off the kid” “he’s being a brat!” “YEAH BC HE WANTS A FIGHT TO START. DO YOU WANT TECHNOBLADE COMING OVER HERE???”

[mechieonu]

"we should go fishing together! we should go shopping together! we should get ice cream together! we should wear matching outfits to a party together! ohhhh, go off‚ kiiiing!" he wants that cookie so fucking bad

[someprettyname]

yall gotta learn how to ruin your own damn birthday party from my father, ruins the excitement and anticipation of those organizing better than if someone else ruins your party <3

[collinnmckinley]

Bro i just saw an iNSANE post about adler... like... WHHAT?

[selfcarecap]

Ariaaaa

Saturday QOTD:

You enter a sweepstakes and win a date with a celebrity of your choice. After spending a day with them, I ask if you'd like to continue seeing them. The only problem? Their fans have a history of dragging this person's partners ☠️ would you take the risk of seeing where this relationship goes, or leave them alone?

Me when I see you in my asks (especially when it’s one of your fun games/Qs🥰) :

Oohhhhh i love this!! So the celebrity I’d go with is obviously Pedro

Soooo… on one hand I could do with a social media detox, so as long as I just don’t go online I don’t see any hate right? And if anyone’s an asshole irl Pedro can protect me 🫶🏼 and honestly being with him should be enough to make up for it anyway.

BUT

Realistically (because this is realistic) I don’t wanna completely stop using social media and I would still go online and check anyway and hurt my feelings💀 AND Pedro is 47. So I would have one day and one day only with Pedrito but I’d treasure it for the rest of my life 💖🫶🏼

[screampied]

MATCH MY FREAK ?! ★

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso. ranking the jik men’s freaks ‘n how nasty they are.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, overstim, choking, dumbification, dirty talk, first time squırt, size kink, spıt kink, mommy kink, lactation fantasizes, finger sucking, fıngering, brēeding, praise, humping, manhandling, nıpple play

wc. 4.3k

TOJI FUSHIGURO ★

the nastiest — doesn’t have any shame whatsoever. with toji, all he ever has to do is have you bouncing on his lap over and over.

that annoying everlasting slash of a scar runs down the right side of his lip as his attention’s focused on some old western movie. “mhm, there we go. milk me or whatever,” and you pout. he’s not paying you any attention on purpose. one hand of his grabs onto your waist, another gripping his empty beer can. glancing down at your sloppy cunt, he snarls. “you sure do love makin’ a mess, huh. look at this,” and you moan, feeling him bring both hips of yours to an abrupt stop. as his heavy cock’s still plummeting into the velvet of your cunt, he lifts you up a few inches. “all this cum goin’ ‘ta waste. so sad,” and you shudder, watching as he swipes a thumb against your dribbling entrance. his own seed oozes out of you and he smears it, dragging a bit onto the print of his thumb. “my, my. nice ‘n fresh,” and with doe widened eyes, you watch as toji licks his finger clean. you felt yourself throbbing immensely, and then he gingerly wraps a hand around your neck. “don’t just stare, girl. y’er gonna get a taste too. open nice ‘n wide, goood.”

as you’re harshly jerking back and forth, hearing the raucous groaning creaks of the sofa rock continuously, your mouth sags opens. toji dangerously leans in, one hand knuckles deep into your slobbering cunt before he pulls it right back out.

“fuck, baby look at how sloppy you get,” and he swivels his fingers inside before removing them, gathering a nice amount of his dribbling cum. toji looks at you with a with a haughty expression, so obedient. mouth all open, needy breaths falling out, you couldn’t have been any more perfect. “yeaaah, curl that tongue up ‘n tell me how i taste.”

once he places two thickset digits inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him.

your moans were now muffled due to his digits being shoved into your mouth — coating his thick fingers with your glistening, slick saliva. “mphh,” you whine, feeling his free hand creep down between your pried open thighs. toji’s staring at you with murky, hooded eyes as you’re still creating feverish friction. your tongue curls around his fingers and you savor the honeyed taste of his own cum swashing inside your mouth. you couldn’t describe the taste, bittersweet.

it was an entire mixture of bitterly sweet, almost no taste at all as the seconds past. toji’s big hand grips your cunt before he gives it a nice squeeze, watching your eyes roll back.

“god, y’r so fuckin’ nasty today, can’t even watch my movie without giving my girls some attention, huh,” and with his entire wrist, he spanks your cunt raw. “especially her, yeah you,” and his eyes flicker down at your sobbing pussy, not even staring at you anymore. “look at her tryin’ to talk back. too soaked though, shame.”

“t- tojiiii,” you pathetically purr out, the swatting smack against your folds giving you whiplash. as you attempt to speak, his fingers get pulled out of your lips, a long slimy-like trail of spit following and he glares at you. “gonna c-cum again.”

“you’re gonna be a messy girl when i tell you to be, baby,” he reminds you, and you could practically feel the milky ring forming around his base. from between your thighs, it’s so filthy.

sticky, each jolt you do on his lap by making haste with your hips has you feeling the stretchy strings of your own juices to his sloshing back and forth together. it’s filthy, you even have the audacity to try and sneak a hand between your thighs, hoping to touch yourself but he smacks it away. “girl, please. let’s not even go there.”

“but—”

“but nothin’. bend over,” and with a blink of an eye, you’re tossed on your back. you gasp, his quick movements barely giving you time to comprehend anything. first you were on his lap and now you were on all fours with your ass up in the air. you whimper, feeling him spank your left cheek before spreading it open.

with two broad hands, he dips his long tongue into your hole before cleaning out his cum with a single slurping lick. he wasn’t even fazed. you moan, shuddering from the stimulation and you’re oh so sensitive and he only makes it worse the moment he starts sucking you, cleaning you out from the back.

“aw, shaky are we? stay still, gotta clean you up silly girl. this cum doesn’t come for free.”

SATORU GOJO ★

satoru’s always been kinky — especially with you. one of his favorite things to do is to convince not only you but himself that he’s not a bottom. in the end, your hips always prove him wrong though.

reclined way back, he watches as your body grinds up and down against him, bouncy.

he groans gruffly, countless slender fingers grabbing ahold of your waist. your body’s movements were always so unpredictable, giving him a run for his money. “ah, ‘s fuckin’ good, baby. ride me jus’ like that, yeah. mhmm.” and you could hear the bratty strain in his voice. he huffs, snowy white strands sticking to his forehead like glue. your sopping wet cunt had a few loose strings of residue cum clinging near the crevices of your thighs and sticking to his. he just couldn’t get over how wet you were. satoru was heavily flustered, driving such thick inches into you. as he’s trying to keep up with his maddened pace — despite you doing all the work, you whimper from the outstretched girth. he reaches that spot and it messes you up every time.

fuck, it’s as if each thrust makes you feel him mold out your walls ten times more. he’s so big, the lazy curve on his cock had you feening for more. and if it was anything about satoru, it’s that he just wouldn’t stop talking. a blabber mouth, whining for you to go faster while at the same time, whining for you to go slower. “make up your mind, ‘toru,” you tease him, a slight tremor in your own voice. his heat entangles with yours and it’s so good.

the fervor, its steadily arising, mixing both individual pleasures as you grab onto his hand. a myriad of fingers intertwine amongst each other as you lewdly rock your body into his. god, it’s only been a few minutes, just a few minutes of yet another round and his eyes were already going back. so far back that you noticed the sexy flicker of white in his eyes paint his sockets a eerie new color.

“y- your hips, oh fuuuuck,” and he’s just slumped against the velvety sheets, feeling his heart beats pulse right through his ears. it’s loud, almost like a deafening beat to some sort of song. satoru’s jaw tightens as you’re preparing to milk him again for the third time. he’s panting like a dog before he suddenly spanks your ass. “mhm, baby,” he stammers out, meeting your gaze right away. you stroke his cheek, spotting the tiny pout pressing against his lips. panting laboriously, his lungs never felt more full. with a heaving sigh, he grabs your neck. “do that thing again, pleaseplease.”

you tilt your head, playing dumb. “do what?”

he groans, feeling his cock twitch inside from the sweltering warmth of your heated heat. taking a second to swallow, he huffs. “the thing, y’know,” and his white brows contort into a sheepish furrow. it’s adorable, it’s almost like he’s too embarrassed to say it. “s- spit in my mouth again, baby. wanna .. taste you.”

“fine,” you tease, wrapping a hand around his throat. he’s got the smuggest grin and your hips were gonna wipe it right off. satoru groans, watching you inch yourself closer, skin against skin, body against body, it’s so hot. with the way your cunt mercilessly drags itself against him, he felt like he about to melt. you gently scrape a thumb over his bottom lip, still rocking into him rigorously. “open your mouth, pretty boy.”

“heh, yes m- ma’am,” he swallows, getting turned on by your sudden authority. his dick pulses inside of you, curving all through your gummy walls with such intensity. he’s feral. satoru opens his mouth and you lean in, gathering a fair wad before watching it trickle down. he whines at the sweet taste of your nectar, feeling your fingers wrap around his throat and he’s just voluntarily wearing it like a necklace. “harder, choke me h- harder.”

scoffing, you tighten the grip around his neck and he moans. it’s a slutty moan, the kind of moan where it’s almost pornographic. “you’re such a brat,” you roll your eyes, almost forgetting he’s buried fat inches deep into your swollen cunt. your hips slow down its pace after a while as you’re still being your hips back and forth and he whines at your languid tempo. you give him a teasing smile, panting yourself before nibbling on his chin. “not satisfied, ‘toru?”

“mhm, no. even i could do better than that, baby,” he cheeses a grin and you lean in to kiss him. he grunts in your mouth, wet tongues sloppily sliding in sync and harmony. your hands start to wander near his bare chest, pinching his nipple and he groans. “h- hey! you kinky bitch.. heh do it again.”

SUGURU GETO ★

suguru geto’s the nastiest eater. it goes without saying. if he wants a taste, he’s gonna eat. doesn’t care what time of day it is, the meal between your thighs was always his favorite, hands down.

“s- suguuuu,” you’d breathe out, feeling each of your lungs ready to collapse. your breathing continued to become unsteady within each lewd second that passes. he’s nose deep, eating you out like a starved animal - saliva everywhere. it drips down the cracks of his lips and past his chin. your felt your voice go dry like the sahara as he’s stuffed right between your thighs. but with geto, more than anything, he loves eating you out whilst you’re still wearing panties. “fuck, ‘s sensitive still, suguru.”

“good, baby,” he rasps, flicking his tongue against the fabric, tasting against your pulsating clit. and oh, his flicks, as brief and thorough as they are, they turn sloppy. geto slurps you clean, treating your pussy like actual food. he’s so pretty too, lengthy long hair flowing down his broad tense shoulders. with your legs spread all out and open, you grab onto his hair, shoving his face closer against your heated core. “yeah, fuck my face. grind this nasty fuckin’ cunt against—mmphhh.”

he’s rudely cut off with how your pussy gets right into his mouth and his plump lips latch onto your arousal. there’s a cunning smile stretching against his lips and he finally peels away your pretty panties with his teeth, to the side.

you taste so sweet, his nose eagerly prods its way against your sopping wet slit, swiping the tip of his nose up and down like a credit card. you loudly whine, a familiar shakiness returning to your voice before your throat grows parched once more. “right there, p- please. don’t stop sugu, fuckfuckfuckkk.”

and your little cries only made him so much harder. not only did they make him hard but they fell on closed off ears. geto huskily grunts into your cunt — the timbre vibrations making you twitch into his mouth. he tastes it on his tongue, feeling you shiver right onto his tastebuds. as you’re drenching his chin with your wetness, he laughs right on your pussy. “c’monnn, baby. if you’re gonna pull on my hair at least do it right,” and he’s being cocky now. the grit in his voice turns you on and he reaches down to give his hardened cock a few pumps. spitting on the entrance of your cunt, shooting you a sly grin. “oh. what’s with the pout? i gotta pull my own hair?”

“s- shut up suguru,” you whine, feeling his hot breath fan against your clit. you’re so sensitive and you feel your back starting to arise, arching itself.

“make me, baby.”

and he chuckles before eating his words, eating your pussy, nearly gulping at the taste as his tongue swiftly maneuvers crazed circles against your stretched opening. you’re so wet that he could literally drown between your thighs. you’re dragging his face against your cunt and his smirk falters a bit the moment he feels himself close himself.

“s- shit,” he dryly laughs, giving your clit another chaste kiss. a cobwebby string of your translucent juices stick against his mouth as if its adhesive, sopping wet and sugary sweet. he’s nasty with his tongue, devouring you whole only to spit it right back onto your weeping pussy. “yeah, fuck my face, girl. don’t be shy, i like when ya get rough.”

not before long, you let out a shrilling orgasm, your vocal chords ripping raw as you gush all on his face. geto pats your pussy as if he’s telling it, telling it, telling her, ‘good job.’ he hums, giving it a final indecent suck before getting up. he’s lingering right over your twitching, defeated body, gawking at your dumbed down state before leaning in to kiss you.

his body, ripped and rough - tatted and burly, grinds against you before he slips two fingers inside of your pussy. “taste it,” he whispers, and you part your lips, throwing arms over his shoulders before relishing in your own juices. you were so dumb from him eating you out that it took you a while to realize he wanted you to kiss him, taste it that way. it was all on his tongue, once bitter now sweet and you take both of his fingers so easily. geto kisses you sloppily, exasperated breaths pouring into each mouth before he bites your lip. “turn around. wanna try a new position.”

“w- what position?” you heave, staring at him as you’re still breathless.

geto rolls his eyes, flipping you over himself. “the one where i put those useless legs of yours over your head. chop chop, girl. wanna test out that flexibility.”

CHOSO KAMO ★

“just .. lie back like that, mhm,” he’d coo, and you moan the moment he’s pressing his weight up against you. choso was warm, but his touch was even warmer. preposterously, his head’s spinning along with the mirroring subtle beats of his heart as he’s watching you flop down on your back. “m- may i?” he almost whines, so impatient—leaning in to nibble his teeth at your laced bra. you give him a nod and he almost moans. choso starts to feel a lake of saliva pool its way into his mouth as he’s now face first between your tits. his favorite girls, besides you. “so thirsty, ‘m gonna drink for a little.”

choso loved your breasts.

he also loved pretending milk would come out of them every time he latched his lips around your perky nipples.

“they always look s- so pretty for me.” he swallows the invisible lump in his throat, eyes peeping up at you. you give him a sheepish smile, holding his head upright and that’s when he shifts. choso grabs a nearby pillow, propping it right underneath his growing boner. softly, he unstraps your bra, letting it fall loose—not even bothering to fully take it off. it just hangs. as he gets a pillow, your brow raises before he starts to suck.

“f- fuck, ‘cho,” you whine out, feeling hot cloudy puffs of breath collide against your skin. you’re so sensitive, feeling a bit of teeth clash against each nipple. you could hear him breathing through his nose, irregular shattered breaths, slurping against each neglected tit. “that’s it baby, mhm, good boy,” and you feel a bit of movement. glimpsing down with blown irises, choso’s resolutely humping the pillow he brought between his legs. he’s whining, trying to bring attention to his heat but oh, the friction only makes it worse. he whimpers and whines with your tit in his mouth, lolling out his long tongue to savor your heavenly taste.

“ngh, m… mommy,” he babbles out, and he’s never called you that before. that was new, you felt your pussy throb behind your panties before he starts to ramble again and again. whenever he’s drunk off of you - he’s so talkative. “s- so good, ‘s sweet,” he grunts, his thrusts against the pillow turning more sloppy. it’s so hot that your skin practically sticks against the satiny sheets. and with choso, he’s just so fucking loud.

he can’t help it. he’s a whiner, straining his own voice at the expense of your syrupy taste. pretty sable lashes flutter against your skin as he’s still slurping each tit. he lowly groans, both hands wrapping around them both - gingerly fondling with each one. choso made sure to give each one all his attention, strands of sheeny crisscrossed drool trickling down past his lips, past his chin. “you’re bein’ messy, baby,” you hum softly, feeling him lean into your touch as you lift his chin up. a toothy love-drunk smile tugs against his lips as he stares up at you, reaching down to touch himself.

“s- sorry,” he hiccups, the speed of his hips accelerating. choso could barely even last because as he’s still got a mouth full of one of your luscious mounds, he gasps. it’s sharp, his breath gets stolen the moment he feels a certain dampness. it starts to coat the middle part of his darkened boxers, clenching his teeth in awe. “oh, ohmygod, ‘m cummin’, fuck.” and it’s so quick, he’s practically thrusting his hips into the pillow as if he’s actually fucking you. as he’s humping the pillow, he’s also humping your leg a bit, rutting back and forth until he whimpers. “s- shit, mommy ‘m makin’ a mess, fuuuuck me.”

as he’s still making out with your breasts, he glances at each nipple. all swollen and wet from his saliva. choso’s eyes almost roll back as he’s making a mess of himself, flustered entirely at the thought of cumming just from sucking on your tits. “mommy, huh?” you tease, running a thumb down his undercut as he buries his face into your chest. oh, he’s embarrassed.

“i.. i didn’t mean to call you that, ‘m sorry,” he grumbles, his voice almost inaudible with the way he’s just stuffed between your breasts. he’s still greedy though, licking and lapping his own shimmery spit that glissades down the crack of your chest. “soso sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you gently pull up his head, making him stare at you. he’s got a little pout, pretty pink lips curling into a downward scowl. “aw, you wanna suck them again, huh, choso?”

with a defeated nod, he sighs. “yeah, but- i just came ‘n i made a mess,” and your eyes peer down at his boxers with the faint grey stain exposing itself. so cute, choso lets out a tiny vexing puff of air before rubbing his neck in shame. “y- you made me cum jus’ from suckin’ on you.”

“don’t worry, ‘cho,” you purr, bringing him back toward your chest. your touch — so warm, he’d love to just stay like this forever. in your arms, sucking on your tits with the dumbest grin on his face, eyes closed. your words tenderly eased its way into his heart before you lie back, exhaling a drowsy sigh. he’s staring at you and he looks hungry, even still. choso’s panting, hovering over you so close that you feel the outline of his flaccid cock rub up against your thigh. “oh, you want more, don’t you?”

“n- no i want you,” he whimpers with a slight head shake, sprawling your legs apart. your eyes briefly widen at his gentle touch, feeling a few slender fingers ghost against your slavering cunt. choso kisses your right tit one more time, inching back up toward your face. “p- please.”

NANAMI KENTO ★

with nanami, he’s a freak in private.

after coming home from a long day at work, he just wants his pretty ‘lil wife. even a bonus, your sweet cunt that never fails to milk him dry every single time. “woah, love. don’t run from me, hey,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more smoother. you moan, feeling each stroke pivot its way so righteously into your soaked core. nanami watches with a coarse glint in his eye as you’re clinging onto the red-velvet sheets. your hands, they bawl within the fabric and you’re creating fists, not once releasing its tightening grip. his hips, they were simply hypnotic.

you’re feeling the stretching curve of his cock jackhammer into your drenched folds with such cinching effortlessness. mewl after mewl dies out of your throat as he’s making your drooling pussy beg for mercy. “don’t run, ‘m not done givin’ you a good fillin’ sweetheart,” and you could feel his hot cum pour its way out of your clenched hole. he’s already came inside before—but now, it was so much that it’s starting to spill out. dripping down your thighs and his favorite part is to just fuck it right back in. it’s so messy, you’re moaning out his name again and again as if it’s some catchy mantra. “atta girl, take it. taaake it.”

and you whine, your face practically being shoved into your pillow. softly though, the cottony fluff gets caught in your mouth and you let off a choking sob for more. “ken, mhhh, kento,” you croak, feeling him grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. oh, he always knew how to fuck you just right. you’re a mess and he’s always liked whenever his women was a bit sloppy. you were never a match for his hips, albeit they struck you deep. his fat cock ruthlessly delves into your cunt even deeper though—churning up your insides, having you clench around him tight. your spit-slicked lips kink up into a ghostly ‘o’ and you feel yourself about to break yet again. “not gonna last again, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kento, fuuuck.”

“c’mon, wifey. wanna f- feel you,” he huffs, piercing the pearly edges of his teeth into your the left blade of your shoulder. blond strands of hair run down his face. it’s shiiiiny, tears of sweat pouring down the edges of his forehead. you whine before feeling nanami take a brisk moment to wrap his tie around your wrist, having you in a secure firm grasp. “mhm, good girl. so good, fuck back against me, milk me sweetheart. uh huuuh.”

everything’s so sloppy, not just his hips but your pussy too. you gasp, feeling a sudden coil within you snap.

nanami’s got you arched over, tongue lolled out and eyes rolled back. just what he needed after a eight hour shift. your cunt always brings him the relaxation he needs, he could just live in it. you could barely even speak a proper sentence without a babbling cry wrenching out of your piteous vocal chords. “kento, i- i feel like ‘m gonna,” and you pause, another sharp gasp exiting out of your lungs. your lungs shake, teeth shattering and ears ringing before you feel a sudden gush. its impact has you delirious — you shake violently on his cock like a crazed animal before your jaw dangles open.

nanami groans, his own cock twitching inside before he realizes what happened. he hums, slowing his jagged hips down before caressesing your ass. he takes a moment, letting off a phew before relishing the sight of you bent over and on all fours for him. “oh, my oh my,” he murmurs in a soft gruff tone. its gruffness underneath makes you throb at least a million times. you’re an entire mess, spasming underneath him with his own heat sticking against yours. inches fucking deep, he brings a plump padded thumb towards your swollen cunt before leisurely pulling out. with a pop, he’s finally out of your sticky, greedy pussy. you’re drenched—clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout. as you’re still coming undone, he stares in awe at how you’re just coating the sheets entirety with your new sweet. you’re spraying out still as the seconds by and he can’t help but hum, a tender feeling waning its way into his heart — and an even more tender feeling warming its way between his legs. “my love, i didn’t know you were the squirtin’ type.”

your chest slumps back into the mattress from the literal nirvana you felt and you moan in ecstasy. with your orgasm still making its appearance, you feel a compacted tightening sensation within you snap.

it feels so good, soso good that your vision’s currently mainly made up of splotches of achromatic, bland colors. everything’s hot. dementedly, you shake underneath him before you feel his hand ghost down your spine. “k- kento, i—”

“shhh, let’s not speak right now, my sweet,” he shushes you, and you moan at the feeling of his fingers leisurely smearing your own candied juices back into you. your body couldn’t stay still and you’re just left there with your mouth hung open - brows curling together at the straight euphoria you just endured. “let’s hear what my other girl’s got to say,” he hums, and before you knew it, you’re flipped over, legs sprawled out with your tits bouncing from the unforeseen movement.

with fawn, gentle eyes staring straight at your soddened wet cunt, nanami licks his fingers clean before going up close to it. “she’s as wet as ever,” he whispers against your slit, giving it a kiss.

immediately, his lips were now glazed with your natural gloss. you’re breathing heavily each second at a time before yanking on his mousy, silk strands. “mhm, that’s it, get a nice pull,” and you moan once he lightly spanks your cunt, your legs growing limp and about to close. “gonna see how much wetter she can get for me,” and he whistles against your pussy, still staring at her and not you, you shudder from his breathy blow.

“isn’t that right, pretty?”

[cumironi]

I F☆CK HATE EMO BOYS s. geto & k. choso

☆ sum. you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your body— if they d☆ck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys?

warning. college au, dōuble-penetration, manhandling, ōral ( m receiving ), fingēring, semi-public space, anāl, unprotected sēx, geto is annoying,

you hate emo boys.

you sit cross-legged on the floor of the cramped music room, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glare daggers at the two so-called emo boys sitting on the stage with you. it’s your final project for the semester, and of course, you got stuck with them—choso and geto. you’re already mentally drained by their whole “dark and brooding” shtick, and the fact that they’re in the same art and music major only ensures you’re forced to endure it day after day.

choso is hunched over his electric guitar, strumming out a tune that sounds suspiciously similar to every other broody song he’s ever played. his face is painted with that classic distant, “nobody gets me” expression that makes you want to roll your eyes so far back they might get stuck. meanwhile, geto, who is supposed to be helping with the composition, is lounging on the stage like he owns the place, cigarette dangling from his lips, blowing smoke rings as if he’s above it all.

your patience is wearing thin.

“you know,” you say, voice laced with sarcasm, “sitting around and looking like a dark cloud doesn’t exactly count as helping.”

geto tilts his head, smirking as he blows another lazy ring of smoke, seemingly unfazed by your irritation. his long black hair falls in messy strands around his face, half-tied up in some kind of “effortlessly cool” way that, unfortunately, does suit him. but god, it’s infuriating. the urge to yank that stupid ponytail and force him to actually do something is almost unbearable.

“i am helping,” he drawls, voice dripping with boredom as he stretches out, reclining back on his elbows. “just by being here, i’m setting the mood.”

choso stifles a laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement at your irritation. you shoot him a glare that could freeze fire, and he just shrugs, clearly used to geto’s antics. “yeah,” choso chimes in, plucking a single, somber note, “besides, nobody asked you to be here either.”

“unfortunately, the professor did,” you mutter under your breath. you’re practically boiling with annoyance, fists clenching. “and we’re supposed to be collaborating, not indulging in whatever dark poet wannabe persona you’re both putting on.”

geto smirks wider, taking another drag of his cigarette as he looks you up and down. “oh, you mean you don’t appreciate my brooding, enigmatic aura? i’m just trying to channel my inner tortured artist,” he responds with mock sincerity. “we’re not all about sunshine and rainbows like you, princess. some of us have a deeper connection to music.”

choso is still snickering as he strums out another note, the two emo boys clearly enjoying your irritation. choso meets geto’s eye with a playful look, as though they’re both in on some secret joke, but you can’t decipher the silent communication between them. he grins, clearly enjoying how easy it is to rile you up. “yeah, it’s not our fault you have the musical taste of a high school pep rally.” his comment earns a snort from geto, who chuckles under his breath.

you scoff, rolling your eyes so dramatically that it’s a miracle they don’t roll right out of your head. their mocking expressions, geto’s cigarette-smoke smile, and choso’s silent snickers grate on you, pushing every button they seem to know so well.

“oh, please,” you say, voice thick with sarcasm as you fling your pen, first at geto and then at choso. it clatters harmlessly beside them, but the message is clear. “i have a deep connection with music too, you know.” your eyes lock onto geto’s, a challenge blazing in your gaze. “just because i don’t act like i’ve lived through a hundred lifetimes of despair doesn’t mean i can’t understand depth.”

geto’s smirk doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, the cigarette dangling between his fingers as he studies you with feigned curiosity. “is that so?” he drawls, looking entirely unconvinced.

you ignore him, turning to choso, who’s still grinning like he’s just heard the best joke of his life. “and by the way, my music taste is nothing like a high school pep rally. just because i don’t sit around and strum sad songs doesn’t mean i don’t know good music when i hear it.”

choso chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he casually strums another lazy chord on his guitar. “right. suuuure, princess,” he says, the endearment clearly meant to rile you up more.

you take a breath, hands curling into fists at your sides. “if anyone here is all talk, it’s the two of you. maybe if you actually spent half as much time doing the work instead of pretending to be these misunderstood, tragic geniuses, we’d actually finish this project.”

geto and choso share another amused look, enjoying how easily they can get under your skin. geto takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he smirks at your fiery response. “cute speech,” he drawls, his voice dripping with condescension. “but forgive me if i don’t quite believe it. you think you understand depth just because you listen to some shallow pop songs and think they’re deep?”

choso chuckles again, clearly enjoying the spectacle, and continues to idly play his guitar with his signature smirk.

geto lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. he leans back on one elbow, cigarette balanced between his fingers. “you’ve got us all figured out, don’t you? we’re just two dark, brooding souls living tragically deep, tortured lives. and you’re just… what? some bright ray of sunshine, here to bring us out of our musical abyss?”

choso chuckles again, still plucking at his guitar as he shares another amused glance with geto. “yeah, how lucky we are. our very own little guardian angel, here to save us from our emo ways,” he responds, clearly finding the situation amusing.

geto nods, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air. he studies you intently, his gaze almost calculating as he watches for your reaction. “your enthusiasm is endearing,” he smirks, “but let’s not pretend that you’re anything more than a naive, hopelessly optimistic girl in a class full of brooding, misunderstood artists.”

you glare at geto, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling beneath your skin as his smirk widens with every word he says. the sight of him leaning back, exhaling another plume of smoke as if he owns the world and everyone in it, makes your blood boil. that condescending drawl, that cocky look—god, you hate emo boys.

without thinking, you reach down, grab his bag, and hurl it straight at him. it smacks him square in the chest, and he blinks in surprise, momentarily caught off guard as he catches it before it hits the ground.

“you’re an asshole, suguru,” you snap, voice sharp as you stand up, glaring at both of them. “i hate you and your stupid, tortured artist act. enjoy your ‘depth’ without me.” you turn to leave, gripping your things, determined to escape this room filled with cigarette smoke and smug grins.

geto rolls his eyes, his smirk never faltering as he watches you storm toward the door, clearly amused by your outburst. with a sigh, he stands up, taking his time before following you to the door. “don’t be sooo thin-skinned, sunshine,” he drawls, reaching out to catch your hand, which is already on the doorknob.

you yank your hand back, but he’s faster, his grip firm as he gently pulls your hand away from the door. and before you even realize what’s happening, he twists the lock, the soft click filling the air.

you narrow your eyes at him, frustration flaring again as he stands behind you, his presence way too close. he still has that damn smirk, looking down at you with a mix of challenge and amusement. his hands move to rest on your upper arms, a touch that’s surprisingly gentle but keeps you in place. you tense under his grip, but he’s already nudging you backward, guiding you away from the door, back toward the center of the room where choso is still sitting, half-watching the scene unfold as he idly strums his guitar.

“you know,” geto murmurs, that hint of laughter still in his tone, “maybe you’re taking all of this a bit too personally. it’s not like we don’t appreciate your presence or anything.” he’s leaning in, close enough that his words are more of a soft murmur against your ear.

you huff, rolling your eyes. “oh, sure. you just like having me here to entertain you with my ‘shallow’ music taste, right?”

geto chuckles, his breath ghosting over your ear in a way that sends a slight shiver down your spine. but you push the feeling away, refusing to let his subtle touch affect you. “hmm, something like that,” he replies, his voice a low murmur. “and your little temper tantrums are so cute.”

you slowly turning your head over your shoulder to give him a glare that could melt steel. the audacity. you arch an eyebrow, letting out a huff. “you’re a dog, you know that, right?”

but geto’s smirk only deepens, clearly unfazed. he leans in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “woof woof,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with a mock sultriness that sends a shiver down your spine despite yourself. he’s so close that you can almost feel his smile in that smug tone, knowing full well the effect he’s having on you.

you clench your jaw, trying to ignore the strange flutter that rises in your chest. why did he have to turn everything into a game, a challenge that he somehow always managed to win? your fingers tighten around your things, grounding yourself as you try to shake off the flush threatening to rise to your cheeks.

“ugh, seriously?” you mutter, yanking yourself out of his grasp as you step away, putting some much-needed space between you. “can you be any more insufferable?”

geto just chuckles, taking pleasure in your reaction. he’s clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse, loving every moment of your frustration. and as you try to step away, his hand snatches the back of your shirt, yanking you back toward him, preventing your escape. he pulls you closer with a fluid motion, bringing you within inches of his smug face.

he leans in, his voice is low and laced with that same hint of mockery. “i can actually be significantly worse. i’m just holding back, princess. you should be grateful.”

choso snickers from his spot on the stage, watching the spectacle with a knowing smirk. he’s seen this song and dance between you and geto countless times, and yet he never gets tired of it. after all, the sight of you and geto at each other’s throats is always a thrilling one.

geto takes a minu step closer, closing the distance between you two. his grip tightens on the back of your shirt, keeping you in place. “so, what are you going to do now, sunshine? keep huffing and puffing, or are you going to give in?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “maybe i should start carrying a spray bottle for you two,” you snap back, though the playful edge in your voice betrays your amusement.

choso laughs outright, a sharp bark of laughter, while geto chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. “oh, a spray bottle? how original, princess,” geto teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “go ahead. i could use a good misting.” he takes another step closer, the heat of his body nearly close enough to touch yours. his grip on your shirt is still firm, but you can feel his fingers tracing small circles on the fabric, a subtle display of possessiveness.

choso chuckles as he strums out another chord on his guitar. “yeah, we’re not kittens you can just spray with water,” he remarks. “but we might respond to treats.” you roll your eyes, scoffing at choso’s words. “as if i’d give you two anything resembling a treat. you don’t do anything that deserves one,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm.

geto smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, and inches even closer, closing the already narrow space between you two. you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your hands, which you’ve instinctively placed on his chest to push him back, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give you the space you need. instead, he just leans in further, his gaze unwavering and challenging as his fingers continue to lightly trace along the hem of your shirt, a subtle, infuriating reminder that he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

choso’s smirk deepens as he lifts his hand, extending his middle and ring fingers in a subtle, teasing wiggle that makes your cheeks burn instantly. “oh, i can do plenty that deserves a treat,” he murmurs, his voice carrying just the right mix of mischief and challenge, the playful gleam in his eyes only adding to his boldness.

your face flushes as you glare at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity. “pervert,” you snap, rolling your eyes in an attempt to cover up the blush creeping up your face. geto chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction, and leans even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he adds, “oh, i think we hit a nerve there, didn’t we, sunshine?”

you turn your glare back at him, trying to shake off the heat that’s already spreading across your face. “maybe if you two idiots put half as much effort into this project as you do into annoying me, we’d actually be done by now.”

geto snickers, unfazed by your insults. “oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that?” he retorts, his voice dripping with mockery. “and honestly, annoying you might be more enjoyable than your whole music taste.”

choso chuckles from his spot on the stage, clearly enjoying the back and forth as he idly strums out a lazy chord on his guitar. “come on, admit it. you love the attention,” he teases with a knowing smirk. “how else would we keep you from fleeing the room?”

geto’s eyes glint with a devilish spark as he draws out the word, “but…” letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you tense up in anticipation. before you can even fully register his intentions, he wraps an arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet, his strength catching you off guard. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to steady yourself, a surprised gasp escaping your lips.

“if you’re so eager for us to work on this project,” he murmurs, that familiar teasing tone laced with something deeper, “then i suppose we should oblige you.”

choso watches with a smirk, setting his guitar aside and leaning back on his hands, clearly entertained. he shifts slightly as geto carries you over to him, his gaze lazily tracing the scene as though it’s all some amusing game.

before you know it, geto lays you down, your head coming to rest on choso’s thigh, his fingers instantly playing with a strand of your hair while he looks down at you with a knowing grin. geto settles between your legs, his eyes alight with mischief as he leans closer, his weight pressing against you just enough to pin you there.

your eyes widen, heart pounding as you squirm, trying to push him away and hit his shoulder. “suguru, get off!” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended, but he only chuckles, entirely unfazed.

geto’s smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your flustered attempt to escape. as you try to push him away, he effortlessly catches your wrists, pinning them above your head, his body still pressed against yours, effectively trapping you.

he leans in, his breath hot against you as he speaks, his voice a low, amused murmur. “easy, princess. we’re just working on the project, remember?” choso chuckles from above, his fingers still idly toying with your hair as he looks down at you, clearly enjoying this moment. “yeah, relax. we’re actually going to be productive for once,” he teases, a smirk on his lips.

geto’s grip tightens on your wrists as he shifts his weight, settling himself more comfortably into the space between your legs. he’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of cigarettes and something more distinctly him filling your senses. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice a low murmur. “or are you finally starting to enjoy this?”

your cheeks flush a deep red, the warmth spreading down your neck as you try to keep your composure. you look away, biting your lip as you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the sound of it almost deafening in your ears. taking a steadying breath, you clear your throat, desperately trying to suppress any hint of nervousness.

“this… this is not the project,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t pull away. instead, you muster up the courage to meet geto’s gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of defiance and something else—something you’re not quite ready to name.

geto’s smirk deepens at your whispered protest. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine. “sure it is,” he counters, his voice a low rumble, his eyes locked onto yours. “we’re getting acquainted with each other’s… skills, let’s say. it’s an essential part of the creative process.” choso snickers from above, his fingers still moving lazily through your hair. “yeah, consider it a team-building exercise,” he adds, his voice dripping with amusement.

your gaze locks onto geto’s, the challenge in your eyes unmistakable. you tilt your head slightly, defiant and intrigued all at once, a smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah?” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “and just what kind of skills are we talking about?”

geto’s smirk widens, clearly delighted by your question. he leans even closer, his lips ghosting over yours, almost but not quite touching. “well,” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing murmur that sends a shiver down your spine, “the kind of skills that… require hands-on experience.”

choso chuckles softly above you, his hand in your hair, fingers curling lightly around a strand. “you’re in good hands, don’t worry,” he teases, his tone both playful and reassuring. “we’re professionals, after all.” you roll your eyes at the both of them, your heart racing despite your best efforts to stay composed. “oh? you do?” you mutter, though the way your voice wavers slightly betrays your flustered state.

geto’s smirk turns almost devilish as he notices the slight waver in your voice, feeling your resistance beginning to crumble. he shifts his body, pressing himself even closer against you, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head.

“oh, we do,” he affirms, a note of confidence edging into his voice. “we’ve got plenty of… relevant experience.” choso chuckles softly, his fingers continuing to toy idly with your hair. “and we’re more than happy to give you a… hands-on demonstration,” he adds, his tone teasing.

a rush of heat floods your cheeks, but you don’t dare look away, meeting geto’s gaze head-on, even with your heart pounding so fiercely that he can feel the pulse beneath his fingers. you swallow, your defiance giving way to something more vulnerable, more curious.

“like what?” you whisper, barely audible, but he catches every word. the smirk on his face shifts, deepening into something darker, a spark of satisfaction flaring in his eyes at your words, the smirk on his face turns almost predatory.

choso’s hand continues to toy idly with your hair, watching the scene unfold. a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he witnesses the undeniable tension between the two of you, clearly enjoying the show.

geto leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locking onto yours as you speak. “like this.” he moves suddenly, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, possessive kiss, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to make you gasp against his mouth.

the kiss is demanding, almost possessive, like he’s staking his claim on you at that very moment. his tongue brushes lightly over your bottom lip, a silent request for entry, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his tongue pushes into your mouth, claiming it.

as geto kisses you, his lips move against yours with a mixture of rough possessiveness and subtle tenderness, the contrast making your head spin. he doesn’t give you any room to pull away, his body still pinning you firmly in place, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head. it’s dominant, overwhelming, and you find yourself melting into the kiss without even realizing it.

when he eventually breaks away for air, his eyes scan your face, taking note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. he smirks, noticing the way you’ve already lost some of your resistance.

you stare up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, struggling to steady your racing heart as you feel the lingering warmth of his lips on yours. your cheeks are flushed, and the remnants of the kiss—soft, glistening traces of shared heat—cling to your lips, a tangible reminder of the closeness that had just taken place.

geto’s smirk only widens as he takes in your expression, clearly pleased with the effect he’s had on you. he shifts, letting one of his hands trail down, grazing your cheek in a teasing, feather-light touch. “what’s the matter?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “cat got your tongue?”

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat, leaving you speechless. all you can do is glare at him, though the intensity is softened by the dazed look in your eyes.

geto’s smirk only deepens at your lack of response, clearly enjoying the power he has over you in that moment. he leans in closer, his hand tracing a path down your neck, his touch light and tantalizing. “tsk, tsk,” he murmurs between chuckles. “no cutting remarks? no snarky comeback?”

he leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear as he murmurs, “or are you just too distracted by my… skills?”

“n-no,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the mess of emotions tumbling around inside you. your gaze flickers from geto’s amused smirk to choso’s lazy, knowing grin, and you quickly lick your lower lip, still tasting the faint remnants of geto’s kiss.

choso leans over you, a sly grin on his lips, clearly amused by how flustered you’ve become. “seems like we’ve finally managed to render her speechless,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement. you swallow, trying to regain even a fraction of your composure, but the feeling of geto’s lips lingering on yours keeps replaying in your mind, muddling every sharp retort you want to throw at him.

“i don’t—” you start, desperately trying to sound defiant, but the slight quiver in your voice gives you away. “i don’t...” the words come out weaker than you intended, and even you can feel the doubt behind them.

you hate emo boys, right?

choso chuckles, clearly amused at your feeble attempt to hold onto your usual defiant attitude. he continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently twirling strands around them as he leans back against the stage.

geto, on the other hand, takes your attempt as a challenge, his smirk widening into a sly grin. he tightens his grip on your wrists, pinning you even more firmly against his body. “oh, really?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mockery. “you don’t what, princess?”

you frown, finally managing to push geto back just enough to sit up, shaking your wrists free from his hold. “you’re so damn annoying,” you mutter, trying to sound resolute, though your heart is still racing, and your cheeks are still warm.

but before you can even think of standing, choso’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you backward with a gentle yet firm pull. you lose your balance, falling back into his lap, your back pressing against his chest as his arms settle around you, keeping you securely in place.

“now, now,” he whispers, his voice low and smooth, right next to your ear, “we haven’t finished with the hands-on learning session.” his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, and you can feel the rumble of his chuckle against your back.

geto watches with a pleased smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leans back, clearly entertained by the shift in control. “see, princess? you keep acting all tough, but you’re right where we want you,” he teases, folding his arms and tilting his head as he watches you, enjoying every flustered reaction.

your face burns, but despite the urge to throw out a sharp comeback, your mind goes blank with the feeling of choso’s closeness, his steady presence both soothing and entirely overwhelming.

your breath catches as choso’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you even closer against his chest. his touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in place, and there’s no escaping the warmth of his body pressed against yours. when his chin settles on your shoulder, you can feel the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin, a contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he whispers.

“you keep resisting,” he murmurs, his voice teasing and warm against your ear, “but maybe that’s because we haven’t given you a proper, hands-on demonstration yet.”

his other hand glides over yours, fingers lacing together as he leans in, his breath tickling the sensitive skin along your jawline before running his fingers over your clothed breast, feeling the lace material over your shirt. geto, watching your reaction with that same devilish smirk, steps in closer, his presence filling any space left, his gaze sharp and intense.

with you pinned between the two of them, there’s no escaping their touch or their relentless teasing. choso’s hand, so maddeningly close to bare skin, moves confidently over your shirt, while geto leans in even closer, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the flushed look on your face.

he reaches up, lazily trailing his fingers down your cheek, his touch sending tingles down your spine. “or maybe,” he murmurs, “you’re just not ready to admit how much you’re enjoying this.”

“shut up,“ you mumble, squirming uncomfortably under their combined gazes. your cheeks burn hotter than ever, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than the sensation of choso’s fingers dancing dangerously close and geto’s intoxicating proximity.

you try to pull away, to put some distance between yourself and the two men who seem intent on breaking down your walls, but choso only tighten his hold, making escape nearly impossible. “let me go,” you demand, your voice shaky, but whether from anger or arousal, you’re not sure.

“what fun would that be?” geto retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. his smirk doesn’t falter, and if anything, it grows more pronounced as he watches you struggle in vain against choso’s grip.

choso, meanwhile, seems content to let geto handle most of the verbal sparring, focusing instead on the task at hand. his fingers continue their tortuous path over the fabric of your shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts through the thin material. his touch is light, teasing, but the effect is undeniable.

the room may be empty, but it feels like the walls are closing in, the heat between the three of you nearly palpable. you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure as choso’s fingers brush tantalizingly close to your nipples. you bite your lip, a soft whimper escaping your throat as geto’s smirk deepens.

“we should do our project instead... instead of this,” you stammer, trying to muster some semblance of defiance, even though your body betrays you with each passing second. your heart pounds in your chest, your breaths coming quicker as the tension in the room rises.

geto scoffs, rolling his eyes at your suggestion. “who said anything about stopping?” he drawls, shifting slightly in his seat to give himself a better view of your predicament. his dark eyes sparkle with mischief, and his grin widens even further, revealing his white teeth.

choso chuckles softly, leaning in until his lips brush against your ear. “this is a part of our project, no?” he purrs, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. his fingers finally dip beneath your shirt, finding your hardened nipple through your bra and pinching it gently, eliciting a gasp from you.

geto watches, his smirking eyes never leaving yours as choso continues his torment, his own hands moving freely now that you’re effectively trapped between them. with nowhere else to turn, you grit your teeth and glare at geto, even as choso’s fingers continue their wicked exploration. “i swear,” you seethe, “if you don’t stop—”

“and what would you do?” geto interrupts, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he leans in closer, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he gets a whiff of your scent. “because i’m not seeing much resistance here.”

before you can come up with a retort, choso’s hand snakes its way around your waist, his thumb brushing against your belly button. he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “relax, princess,” he coos, his voice dropping to a low purr. “it’s just sex.”

you wince as choso’s thumb brushes against your exposed flesh, a shudder running through your body at his words. you clench your fists, biting your lip to keep from moaning aloud. “t-that’s not true!” you protest weakly, though your body tells a different story. your cheeks flush darker, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as the heat between the three of you intensifies. god, you hate emo boys so much!

geto barks out a laugh at your weak protests, shaking his head in amusement. “oh please, spare us the indignation act. we all know you’re loving every second of this.” choso hums in agreement, his fingers trailing lower, dipping teasingly below the waistband of your skirt. “your body is far more honest than your mouth,” he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

geto shifts closer, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. “why fight it? we both know where this is heading. might as well enjoy the ride, hmm?” his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a clear invitation. behind you, choso presses closer, the evidence of his arousal evident against your backside as his hands roam your curves possessively.

geto merely laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “denial isn’t a very attractive trait, love,” he teases, reaching out to run a finger along your arm. the sensation sends sparks shooting up your skin, and you can’t help but flinch.

choso grins devilishly, taking advantage of your reaction. he slips his hand lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping beneath the hem of your skirt. his touch is feather-light, teasing, yet filled with promise. his hand slides lower to tease the edge of your panties. his fingers ghost along the delicate fabric, making you jump in surprise. “so tense,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “let us help you relax. this is a part of the project, we promise. gonna show you how to used your fingers for guitar.”

geto chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “that’s right, princess. we’re just giving you a private lesson,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “all part of the creative process.” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “but i think we can teach you something far more... practical.”

choso hums in agreement, his fingers still teasing along the edge of your panties. “indeed. music theory is important, but sometimes...” his hand suddenly cups your mound, applying firm pressure. “...hands-on experience is necessary for real growth.”

geto smirks, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “what do you say, love? ready to expand your horizons and learn a new instrument?” his other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the side of your breast.

whimpers and squirms, you inhale sharply as choso’s hand boldly cups your most intimate area, his touch sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. your hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. a needy whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, your resolve crumbling under their relentless assault. geto’s fingers in your hair and teasing caress along your breast make it hard to think straight.

“i... i don’t...” you stammer, but your body betrays your true desires. your thighs tremble, pressing together as if seeking friction, and your nipples strain against the confines of your bra, begging for attention. “that— that’s not,” you protest weakly, even as your body betrays you, arching slightly into their touches. your face burns with humiliation and shameful arousal. “expand your horizon, my ass.”

geto’s fingers in your hair send tingles down your spine, and when he grazes the side of your breast, you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. “fuck,” you breathe, hating how weak you sound.

despite your feeble objections, you make no real effort to push them away or escape their groping hands. the heat building between your thighs grows harder to ignore with each passing second. geto grins wickedly, clearly reveling in your flustered state and half-hearted resistance.

choso chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddening exploration. he hooks a finger in the side of your panties, tugging them down just slightly. “see? nothing to worry about. just sit back and enjoy the music,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck.

geto leans in, his lips barely brushing against your ear. “unless you’d prefer to take the lead? show us what those talented fingers of yours can really do?” he suggests, his tone laced with challenge and desire.

choso grins wickedly, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to stroke your slick folds. “my my, someone’s already so wet,” he purrs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “and here i thought you were resisting.” geto chuckles darkly, his hand tightening slightly in your hair. “resistance is futile, princess. your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is playing catch-up.”

he leans in, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear before he nibbles on the lobe. “what was that about expanding your horizons again, princess?” he taunts, his other hand boldly cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh. “seems to me like you’re already getting a crash course in advanced techniques.”

he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing any further protests. his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as choso’s fingers begin to circle your clit with maddeningly light touches.

you moan into the kiss, your lips parting willingly as geto plunders your mouth. your tongue tangles with his, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. you find yourself kissing him back with growing fervor, your reservations melting away under the onslaught of sensation.

choso’s fingers work magic on your sensitive bud, circling and teasing until your hips are bucking shamelessly against his hand, chasing more of that delicious friction. wetness coats his digits as he easily glides through your slick folds, stroking along your entrance.

“ahh... fuck...” you gasp as geto breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dizzy with need. your head falls back against choso’s shoulder, exposing the column of your throat.

geto smirks against your lips, clearly relishing your wanton response. “that’s it, princess. let go,” he encourages huskily, his hand sliding down to join choso’s between your thighs. together, they work in tandem, geto’s fingers joining choso’s to tease and explore your most intimate places.

“feel that?” choso murmurs, his fingers curling inside you, stroking along your inner walls. “this is just like playing a string instrument. you have to be precise, know exactly where to touch...” he demonstrates by finding that special spot deep inside, rubbing firmly. at the same time, geto’s thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles.

“mmm, and you’ve got to vary your rhythm,” geto adds, his voice a sinful purr.

behind you, choso takes advantage of your exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. his fingers never cease their ministrations, now two digits sinking knuckle-deep inside your tight heat. he curls them just so, rubbing against that same special spot within you. “how about that, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a sinful rasp against your ear. “this is called the g-spot. it’s the key to creating the most beautiful melodies.”

a loud, shameless moan tears from your throat as choso hits that perfect spot inside you, his fingers curling just right. your back arches, pressing your breasts more fully into geto’s palm as he kneads the soft mounds.

“oh god— thaaat’s— shit!” you keen, your hips rolling shamelessly against their skilled hands. the dual stimulation of choso’s fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt and geto’s thumb circling your clit has you seeing stars. your inner muscles flutter and clench around the invading digits, trying to draw them deeper.

geto chuckles darkly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest pressed against your side. “listen to those pretty sounds you’re making,” he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “like a symphony of pleasure.”

“indeed,” choso agrees, his own voice thick with lust. “she’s quite the instrument.” he increases the pace of his thrusts, fingers pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy with increasing urgency. “let’s see how high she can sing.”

geto redoubles his efforts as well, his thumb working overtime on your throbbing clit while he tweaks and teases your nipples. “come on, baby girl,” he coaxes, his breath hot against your ear. “give us that sweet release. let the music move you.”

the dual assault proves too much, your climax cresting like a tidal wave. a strangled cry rips from your throat as your body seizes up, back bowing as ecstasy crashes over you. choso and geto continue to work you through it, coaxing out every last tremor and spasm.

your entire world narrows to the intense sensations coursing through your body as you come undone. waves of pleasure radiate outward from your core, leaving you quivering and gasping for air. “ahh! oh fuuuck...” you wail, your voice raw and desperate as your orgasm rips through you. your inner walls clench rhythmically around choso’s plunging fingers, milking them for all they’re worth.

choso grins wickedly, his fingers picking up speed, plunging in and out of your sopping wet cunt. “that’s it, baby. let me hear that sweet music,” he growls, his thumb coming up to rub tight circles on your clit.

through the haze of bliss, you dimly register geto’s triumphant grin against your cheek, his praise and encouragement spurring you onward. even as the aftershocks slowly ebb, choso and geto keep you suspended on that razor’s edge, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a boneless, spent mess in their arms. when the final tremors subside, you collapse against choso, panting heavily.

choso holds you close, his strong arms cradling your trembling form as you struggle to catch your breath. “exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. “a true masterpiece.”

geto, in front of you, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “not bad for a beginner lesson,” he remarks, his gaze roving over your flushed, disheveled state. he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “but we’re far from finished. there are still so many notes left to play, so many melodies yet to compose.” his hand trails down your spine, tracing the curve of your lower back before settling on your hip.

choso chuckles, his fingers still buried inside you, gently stirring your sensitive insides. “let’s see how well our little protégée handles some more...advanced techniques.” he leans in, biting and sucking at your neck, determined to leave marks of possession. his free hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you steady.

without warning, geto captures your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your desperate moans. behind you, choso scissors his fingers, stretching you wider, preparing you for something bigger. “brace yourself, princess,” geto growls against your mouth, his tongue delving deep to claim yours in a ruthless kiss. his other hand snakes around to cup your breast once again, squeezing the soft flesh roughly as he bites down on your bottom lip.

choso continues to work his fingers in and out of your stretched opening, scissoring and curling to hit all the right spots. “ready for the next piece?” he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. “we’re going to add some strings to really make her sing.”

your mind reels from the overwhelming sensations, struggling to process the torrent of pleasure coursing through your veins. the feeling of being stretched and filled by choso’s fingers is almost unbearable, your body acutely aware of every subtle shift and movement.

geto pulls back from the kiss, his chest heaving with desire. “that’s right, let’s give her a full orchestra,” he agrees, his eyes blazing with hunger. “i’m thinking a nice, thick violin for her ass...”

when geto claims your mouth in a brutal kiss, you melt into it, surrendering to the dominant passion he exudes. his hand on your breast sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making you ache for more.

you whimper against his lips, lost in the haze of lust. the thought of geto taking you from behind, filling you with his thick cock, has you squirming in anticipation. as if reading your mind, choso withdraws his fingers with a lewd pop, leaving you empty and wanting. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

they help you stand, with a shared look of carnal intent, both men begin shedding their clothing, revealing lean, muscular bodies honed from years of intense training. their cocks spring free, hard and proud, already leaking precum in anticipation.

geto lean closer, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly peels away his shirt, exposing his chiseled chest and abs. “time to put that ass of yours to good use, princess,” he purrs, his cock bobbing with each step.

choso follows suit, stripping off his garments with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving your body. “we’re going to fill you up so completely, you won’t know where one of us ends and the other begins,” he promises, his voice dripping with sensual promise. together, they guide you to the couch across the music room before peeling the clothes and skirt off your body.

on the couch, geto grips your hips firmly, guiding you onto his lap so you straddle him facing forward. your bare cunt hovers inches above his rigid cock, the head nudging your slick entrance. choso steps closer, his erection jutting out proudly from his groin, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“let’s hear that beautiful song again,” choso purrs, reaching down to run his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. he lifts your leg, placing your foot on the armrest beside geto, further exposing your sex to him.

geto’s eyes darken with primal needs as he notches the head of his dick at your entrance. “time to ride this melody, my sweet,” he rasps, his hands gripping your thighs as he starts to push upward, sinking into your heat inch by delicious inch.

a shuddering gasp escapes your lips as geto’s thick cock slowly impales you, stretching your inner walls to accommodate his impressive size. the sensation of being filled so deeply is intoxicating, your body instinctively clenching around him.

“oh shiiit! —fuck!” you manage to stammer, your head falling back on his shoulder in ecstasy as geto bottoms out inside you. the pressure is exquisite, bordering on pain, but you crave more.

choso watches intently, his own cock twitching with anticipation. “look at her take it so beautifully,” he comments, his voice laced with awe and desire. “such a perfect fit.” geto begins to thrust and you start to rock your hips, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.

choso’s cockhead brushes against your lips insistently, smearing them with his musky essence. “open wide, princess,” he coaxes, his voice husky with need. “let’s synchronize our movements and create a truly symphonic experience.” without waiting for any response, he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his thick length past your lips. “that’s it, wrap those pretty lips around my cock,” he encourages, one hand tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “let’s see how well you multitask.”

behind you, geto’s thrusts pick up pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he hilts himself fully inside you with each powerful stroke. the dual stimulation of his thick shaft dragging along your inner walls and choso’s hardness prodding your mouth has you dizzy with lust.

“fuuuck, she feels incredible,” geto groans, one hand sliding up your torso to palm your breast roughly. he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging through your nerves.

overwhelmed by the dual assault on your senses, you moan wantonly around choso’s cock, the vibrations adding an extra layer of sensation. your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you bob your head, taking him deeper into your throat with each pass.

geto’s relentless thrusts are hitting that special spot inside you dead-on, stoking the fire building in your core. the combination of his cock pounding your g-spot and choso’s member filling your mouth has you teetering on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.

your nails dig into choso’s thighs as you grind back against him, meeting geto’s thrusts with equal fervor. the obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, mingling with your muffled moans and the creaking of the couch beneath you.

choso grunts in pleasure as your throat constricts around him, your enthusiasm evident in the way you take him so eagerly. “that’s it, just like that,” he praises breathlessly, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to shallowly fuck your face. “such an obedient little instrument, playing our tune perfectly.”

behind you, geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. one hand moves from your breast to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

geto leans in close, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he pants hotly against your skin. “listen to those slutty sounds you’re making,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust that has your vision whiting out momentarily. “you are doing a good, sunshine, pretty sure we will get an A+ for this project.”

the dual stimulation proves too much to bear. with a keening cry muffled by choso’s cock, “gonna cum. . . hng! cum—”, your body trembles and quakes as the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, poised to snap at any moment. geto’s skilled fingers on your clit combined with his relentless thrusts prove too much to bear.

with a strangled cry, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles clamp down on geto’s pistoning shaft, rippling along his length as you come undone. the force of your climax has you seeing stars for the second time, your entire being consumed by white-hot ecstasy.

choso groans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest as he feels your throat flutter around him. “fuck yes, milk my cock just like that,” he demands, his hips stuttering as he nears his own peak.

as your body convulses in the throes of your intense orgasm, geto hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm around him, grinding against your cervix as he rides out your intense orgasm. “shiiit—” he snarls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

choso buries himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his breaking point. with a guttural moan, he starts to unload, thick ropes of cum shooting directly down your gullet. “swallow every drop, princess,” he commands breathlessly, his hips rocking shallowly as he empties himself in your mouth.

geto continues to grind against you, drawing out your climax as long as possible. once choso pulls out, they switch position with now you sit on choso’s lap while geto kneeling on the couch behind you, ass slight in the air and back arched towards choso. “now, now, your ass need an instrument too, no?” he remarks, the tip of his cock kissing the puckered lips of your ass.

choso smirks at geto’s suggestion, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust. “mm, i like the way you think,” he purrs, reaching around to spread your ass cheeks wider, exposing your tight rosebud to geto’s hungry gaze. “let’s give our little muse here a full symphony, shall we?”

he leans in, trailing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder as his hands roam your curves possessively. “just relax, baby,” choso murmurs against your skin, nipping lightly. “we’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

geto positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips possessively. the blunt head of his cock pressing insistently against your virgin hole, coated in your mixed fluids. he spits crudely into his palm, using it to slick up his shaft before rubbing the spit-slicked tip around your rim teasingly. “relax, sunshine,“ he murmurs, his thumb massaging small circles on the soft skin of your hips. “let me in nice and easy.”

with a gentle but persistent pressure, geto starts to sink into your tight heat, his girth stretching you deliciously. choso bucks up slightly, his still-harden cock sliding between your cunt as if seeking friction.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans low in his throat as he slowly sinks deeper into your tight heat, savoring the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him inch by delicious inch. “holy shit, you’re like a vice around my cock,” he grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you with a final, powerful thrust.

choso watches the erotic sight with hooded eyes, his own arousal growing as he feels geto’s cock slide against his through the thin barrier of your pussy wall. he rocks up against you, creating delicious friction. “goddamn, i can feel every twitch of your greedy little holes," he purrs, his voice rough with desire.

a sharp gasp escapes your lips as you feel geto’s thick length slowly sink into your virgin hole, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. the initial burn quickly gives way to intense, toe-curling pleasure as your body adjusts to the new intrusion.

“oh god, oh fuck,” you moan brokenly, your head falling back against choso’s shoulder as he peppers your neck with hot kisses and bites. your hands scrabble for purchase on his muscular arms, nails digging into the firm flesh.

the dual sensation of choso’s hard cock rubbing against your sensitive walls and geto’s thick shaft buried deep in your ass is almost too much to handle. every movement sends shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your oversensitized body.

geto sets a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he fucks into your tight heat with increasing intensity. the lewd squelch of lube and your natural lubrication fills the room, mixing with your wanton moans and the creak of the couch beneath you.

choso takes advantage of your distracted state, his hands moving to roughly palm your breasts, tweaking and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he grinds up against you harder.

“that’s it, take it just like that,” geto growls, one hand took a fistful of your hair as he pounds into you from behind while the other pushing the hard wall, looking for a balance. the added stimulation has your walls clamping down on both their cocks like a silken fist.

lost in a haze of overwhelming pleasure, your body moves on pure instinct, rocking back to meet geto’s powerful thrusts while grinding down onto choso’s hardness. incoherent moans and pleas spill from your lips, swallowed by choso’s demanding kisses, arms wrapped around his neck.

the intense dual stimulation has your mind short-circuiting, all thoughts dissolving into a sea of blissful sensation. your inner walls ripple and squeeze around the two hard shafts stretching you so deliciously, as if trying to pull them even deeper.

“just— fucking gooood!” you manage to gasp out between kisses, too far gone to care how desperate you sound. “want... want to feel you everywhere...“ your hands clutch at choso’s shoulders, nails raking down his sweat-slicked skin.

choso breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “look at you, so beautiful when you’re fucked silly, completely lost in pleasure,” he rasps, his voice dripping with seduction. “keep taking what you need, baby girl.” he rolls his hips, grinding his cock against your clit with deliberate intent, sending jolts of electricity through your overstimulated nerves.

geto increases his pace, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room as he slams into your ass with abandon. the couch creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts, but neither of them seems to care about the potential damage.

the combination of geto’s brutal pace and choso’s calculated stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“fuck, your ass was made for my cock,” geto grunts, his grip on your hip tightening. “so damn tight and perfect.” he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “i’m going to fill you up so good, sunshine.”

geto’s words send a shiver down your spine, your entire body tensing as the coil of pleasure within you winds tighter and tighter. choso senses your impending climax, his hands roaming your curves with renewed urgency as he kneads and squeezes, coaxing you higher.

“come on, princess,” choso coaxes, his voice a low, sultry purr. “give us what we want. let go and soak us with your sweet cream.” he nibbles at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his own release. “shit, shit, shiiit, i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained with effort.

overwhelmed by the relentless assault on your senses, you teeter precariously on the brink of orgasm, every nerve ending alight with electrifying pleasure. geto’s guttural warnings only heighten your anticipation, knowing that his impending climax will trigger your own.

“please,” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the ragged sounds of your own panting. “want to come... need to...” choso’s skilled touch and the tantalizing drag of his cock against your sensitive clit prove to be the final push, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. your inner walls clamp down like your life depends around both cocks, milking them for all they’re worth as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you.

geto lets out a hoarse roar as your tight ass squeezes him mercilessly, your spasming walls trigger his own release. his own climax barreling down on him like a freight train. with a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside you, he floods your ass with jet after jet of hot cum. “oh, shit— fuck, naughty girl,” he bellows, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself deep inside you.

choso follows suit moments later, his own orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tidal wave. “’m coming!” he snarls, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grinds against you with desperate urgency. his cock twitches and spurts, painting your insides with his scorching seed.

the three of you collapse together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, the aftermath of your shared climax leaving you boneless and sated.

as the aftershocks of your orgasms fade, geto carefully pulls out of your ass, a small amount of cum leaking out and trailing down your thigh. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “well, that was a hell of a private lesson,” he says, giving your plump rear a gentle pat before rising to his feet.

choso, still nestled against you, lazily strokes your side, his touch warm and comforting. “we’ve definitely got a special grade now,” he muses, a note of possessiveness creeping into his tone. geto chuckles, moving to sit beside you both on the couch. “definitely,” he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tender gesture that belies his earlier roughness.

after everything, reality hits you. you’ve always sworn up and down that you hate emo boys, yet here you are, caught in an intimate moment with the two of them. now, you’re on the other side of the music room, hurriedly putting your clothes back on, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. you refuse to meet their eyes, sulking as you keep your back to them, still stealing a glare over your shoulder every now and then.

geto and choso just exchange an amused look, clearly unbothered by your attempt to distance yourself. they’re still lazily getting dressed, each of them watching you with a smirk, fully aware of the effect they’ve had on you.

geto smirks deepen as he continues watches you from across the room, clearly amused by the icy glares you’re shooting his way. he leans casually sits on the couch armrest— arms crossed, the smug look on his face telling you he’s entirely unbothered by your attempt to ignore them. beside him, choso chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he pulls his shirt back on, clearly sharing in the satisfaction of riling you up.

“oh, come on, princess,” geto drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of it.”

choso grins, tilting his head as he watches you adjust your shirt, still refusing to look at them. “yeah, don’t be such a sore loser,” he teases, his tone light but with that familiar hint of mischief. “you’re the one who kept us in check, remember? it’s not our fault you had fun.”

you shoot them both a final glare, cheeks still hot as you mutter, “i hate emo boys,” as if trying to convince yourself more than them. but they can see through it, both of them chuckling at your attempt to regain control.

geto and choso exchange another amused glance, knowing all too well that your muttered remark was more for your own benefit than theirs. they’re amused by your stubbornness, your desperate attempts to cling to control, even after they’ve seen the flushed look in your eyes, the way your body responds to their touch.

choso tugs his shirt fully on, his eyes roving over you as he takes in your disheveled state. “sure, princess,” he teases, his voice dripping with irony. “we totally believe you.”

geto pushes himself off the armrest, sauntering closer to you with a slow, confident swagger. he comes to a stop in front of you, his smirk widening as he looks down at you in mock sympathy. “oh, you poor thing. you must be so flustered and confused.”

he reaches out, lightly tracing a finger along the edge of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft but mocking. “it’s normal to have conflicting emotions.”

you slap his hand away, a scowl firmly set on your face. “fuck off,” you snap, voice dripping with annoyance. geto just chuckles, clearly unphased, his smirk only widening as he steps back with that same infuriating calm.

“such hostility,” he teases, mockingly clutching his chest as if wounded. “and here i thought we were bonding.” you roll your eyes and turn your back to him, muttering under your breath about how annoying he is. meanwhile, choso, still lounging nearby, watches with a grin, clearly amused by the banter.

geto’s smirk only grows wider at your scowl and sharp retort. he steps back, arms raised in a gesture of mock surrender, though his eyes are still filled with that same mocking glee. “oh, princess, you really are so spirited.”

he glances over to choso, who’s still watching with undisguised amusement. “you really do know how to pick ‘em,” he mutters, chuckling. choso grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “yep,” he agrees. “she’s definitely a handful. but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

you gasp in mock offense, turning to face geto fully. your backhand thumps against his chest, a playful but firm push, and your eyes narrow with feigned indignation. “pick me? what am i, a stray?” you ask, your voice teasing, lips curled into a pout as you look up at him with exaggerated shock.

geto simply rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, unfazed. he bends down, grabbing his bag from the floor with a lazy motion, effortlessly slinging it over one shoulder. his eyes gleam with amusement as he drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, his body warmth pressing against yours. “let’s go get you some ice cream,” he says, his voice smooth, dripping with playful sarcasm. his smirk only deepens as he adds, “maybe it’ll cool those anger issues of yours.”

you feel the weight of his arm around you, the proximity of his body stirring something familiar in you, but you don't let it show. choso, who’s been silently watching this little exchange with his usual mischievous grin, lets out a low chuckle. “yeah, ice cream’s on him for calling you a stray,” he teases, his voice light and playful as he steps up beside you, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.

as you start walking, you feel the tension of the earlier moments dissipate, replaced by the lighthearted banter between the three of you. despite your irritation, there’s a sense of warmth that settles in, and you can’t help but feel an odd mix of affection and frustration toward the two of them.

maybe, these emo boys aren’t as terrible as you thought.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

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