#black cowboy protesters

[alwaysbewoke]

Imagine how many people JUST LIKE HER are in ICU, TRAUMA, BIRTH AND DELIVERY, NICU, STEP-DOWN UNITS, PYSCH WARDS, ELDERLY CARE, OBGYN, CARDIOLOGY, POST OP CARE, etc…

[fvedyetor]

going to pride events makes u feel both underdressed and overdressed at the same time. magic and trickery. and gender envy.

[the-best-bagel]

i think most of the white ppl feeling like they have no culture stuff stems from a lack of connection to their communites. if you go nowhere and talk to no one then yea youre not really participating in the culture of your area. eat produce grown by ppl in your area go to county fairs check out the annual things in your area, thats your culture. like to give an overly simple answer if you live in america then americana is pretty likely to be part of your culture

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Bet*

Summary: Joel makes you a bet during a night out. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, banter, teasing, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), edging, ROUGH sex, squirting, hair pulling, choking, cum eating, facial, light spanking, light face slapping, heavy kissing, explicit language, pet names (darlin', cowboy, babydoll), brat taming (kinda?) A/N: This is just pure FILTH. Eat it up, kids, I know you love it.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Friday nights always meant date night with Joel. With Tommy babysitting Sarah and the work day done for you both, he insisted on taking you to his favorite bar on the outskirts of town. You were looking forward to a night alone, especially when you had a surprise up your sleeve. Earlier in the week, you came across a boutique in downtown Austin that sold very…niche t-shirts…and couldn’t help buying one. Putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you stepped back and admired your outfit. You had on the tiniest pair of cut-off denim shorts hugging your ass, a pair of worn black cowboy boots, and a fitted tank top with Cowboy Pillows written across your chest. It was perfect, and you knew it would drive Joel crazy. 

Joel stopped dead in his tracks when you came waltzing out of the house and toward his truck; the hand holding open the passenger door tightened until his knuckles turned white. 

Staring you down with a fire lit behind his big puppy dog eyes, Joel shook his head in protest.

“Absolutely the fuck not, babydoll,” he swore. “Take that pretty ass back inside and change.”

You stood before the truck with your arms crossed and the biggest pout forming on your lips. 

“Did you even read my shirt, cowboy?” You asked, moving your arms to reveal the words stretched over your breasts. 

“It’s very cute, darlin’, but you ain’t goin’ out like that,” Joel grumbled. 

“Why?” You frowned. 

“I ain’t tryna get arrested tonight. ‘Cause if one man lay eyes on those perky tits, I’m killin’ them.”

You strode toward him, pressing your body against his. His hands found their usual spot over the swell of your ass, his fingers prodding into the supple flesh hidden under the denim. You hummed as his mouth dipped to your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell as his voice dropped low. 

“Why don’t we just stay in?” He breathed. “Wanna take you right back in the house and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

“You promised me a night out, Joel,” you whined. 

He made his way down your neck, peppering you with open-mouthed kisses before responding to your demands.

“Fine,” he muttered against your skin. ���Get your sexy ass in the fuckin’ truck, and let’s go.”

He released you and climbed into the truck with a mischievous grin. Joel quickly pulled you across the bench, tucking you into his side as he pulled out of the driveway and toward the bar. You brushed your hand over Joel’s thigh, your fingers creeping up to the zipper of his jeans. He shifted in the seat, spreading his legs a little wider to welcome more of your touch. 

“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble, babydoll,” he warned. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. 

His hand shot out before you could drag his zipper down, bringing your fingers up to his mouth to place gentle kisses along each digit. 

“I’ll make you a bet,” he smirked, turning his head to look at you.

“What kind of bet?”

“No touchin’ each other tonight. The first person to do it loses.”

A giggle bubbled out of you as you considered his offer. Knowing Joel, he’d lose before you stepped into the bar. The idea of teasing him all night already had your thighs clenching tight, the friction of the denim against your aching clit nearly too painful to bear.

“What happens to the loser?” You asked.

“Loser gets to do whatever the other one wants.”

The truck slowed to a stop as the streetlight turned red, and you moved closer to reel him in for a deep kiss. If this bet was going to happen, you wanted all the attention before you set out to win the bet. Joel’s tongue brushed over your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider and deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair to hold him closer. 

“You’re on, cowboy,” you grinned, pulling away as the light turned green. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

“We’ll see ‘bout that, darlin'.”

The bar was mildly crowded for a Friday night. Most of the patrons were older men sulking around or flirting with the bartenders. Soft country music floated out of the jukebox in the corner, and you found yourself swaying your hips to the melody. Joel watched you as you danced, his eyes never leaving your body unless he caught wind of another man admiring you from afar. You laughed each time he scowled at them and upped the movement of your hips just to get a rise out of him. Watching him try to hold back from touching you was cute, his hand nearly crushing the beer he was nursing. 

After your third drink, the tipsy feeling started to settle in, and self-restraint was slowly phasing out of your body. Joel noticed the shift in your mood as you perched yourself on a barstool. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs, chasing the friction of the denim rubbing against your aching clit. Leaning in as close as he could, Joel lowered his head and chuckled. 

“Doin’ okay, babydoll?” He whispered in your ear, his mouth a breath away from your neck.

You shivered at the phantom touch; he was so close, yet not close enough. 

“Stop it,” you exhaled. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Not playin’ fair?” He questioned. “You ain’t been playin’ fair since you walked out the damn house.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you feigned sympathy. “Am I driving you crazy with my lil’ outfit?”

“You have no fuckin’ idea, darlin’.”

Scootching off the barstool, you tilted your head toward the vacant pool table. Joel’s eyes followed the motion, raising his brow at your silent invitation.

“Y’wanna play?” He asked. “Hope you’re ready to lose, darlin’.”

“You talk a big game, cowboy. You’re on.”

You grabbed a cue stick and waited for Joel to rack the balls and center them on the green velvet table. He grabbed his own stick and gestured to you to start. 

“All you, babydoll. Let’s see it.”

You rounded the table and leaned over to line your stick with the cue ball. Inhaling on the pull of your stick, you exhaled and drove it into the cue. The sound of the resin balls breaking shattered the music in the background, their triangle formation scattering across the table. You managed to sink two striped balls into the left corner pocket and rose to assess the damage. Joel stared at you, impressed, nodding as he lined up his stick with the cue. 

“Y’got stripes, babydoll. Solid’s are mine,” he mutters, his eyes trained on the ball. 

You watched, mesmerized, as Joel’s shoulder muscles moved fluidly with each extension of his arm. With a strong drive of the stick, Joel sunk the four ball into the right-center pocket. Giving you a cocky grin, he rounded the table again, this time directly facing you. He stared up at you, his eyes dark under the furrow of his brows. You bent over the table's edge, propping your face onto your hands and shimming your shoulders slightly. Joel’s eyes snapped up to your chest, fixated on the way your breasts pushed together.

“Not fair,” he gritted before sending his stick into the cue ball. 

The ball scratched on the table, missing the solid he aimed for. You smirked at him, sticking your tongue out as you skipped around the table to settle into position against the table. You eyed Joel as he moved to stand behind you, and you rewarded him with pushing your ass out further. Giving your hips a little wiggle, you sent a forceful shot into the cue, sinking the nine ball and ricocheting it against the twelve ball, sending it into the right corner pocket. 

“Damn,” Joel mumbled, tracking your body as you lined up for your third turn. 

“Didn’t think I was good, huh?” You laughed. 

“You’re good at everythin’, darlin’.”

The dip in his voice vibrated up your body as you pressed your legs against the table to line up for the next stroke. Joel leaned his hip against the corner of the table, folding his arms as he watched you aim your stick at the cue. 

“C’mon, babydoll,” he whispered, drawing your focus away from the shot and causing the cue ball to sink into the pocket rather than the fifteen ball you were gunning toward. 

“You play dirty,” you grumbled. 

Joel crowded you, his body inches from yours. You arched into the distance between your bodies, barely keeping your chest from brushing his. 

“I bet those panties are already soaked, huh?” Joel teased.

You gave him an innocent smile, ready to deliver the final blow to his restraint. Rising onto your toes, you kept your mouth close to his ear. 

“They would be if I were wearing any, cowboy.”

You pulled back to see Joel’s nostrils flaring, his eyes roaming down your body and back up. 

“Bathroom. Now.” He demanded. 

“But we’re still playing,” you whined, gesturing to the pool table. 

Joel’s hand shot out to your waist, dragging you to his body. 

“Fuck the game. Need you in that bathroom now so I can fuck that sassiness outta you,” he growled. 

“I’m not sassin’ you, cowboy. You’re just a sore loser,” you taunted. 

“I ain’t gonna ask again, babydoll. You either walk to the bathroom right now, or I fuck you on that pool table in front of everyone.”

“Maybe I want a crowd,” you shrugged with a coy grin. “Bend me over right here, cowboy. Show them who’s yours.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh? Have all them eyes on you while you scream my name and soak the table. Y’wanna show everyone how good y’take my cock?”

“Do it,” you smiled. 

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass, squeezing it hard enough to make you yelp before smacking it hard. A few heads turned at the sound, their wandering eyes scrutinizing you and Joel. Even though Joel could be all talk, you knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you in front of everyone, not when he was the most protective and selfish man there was. 

You were too turned on to fight it now. Turning toward the bathroom, you glanced over your shoulder and smiled as Joel watched you walk to the dimly lit hallway of the bar. You didn’t have the care to notice heads turning to stare at you as you passed, the excitement too strong as it coursed through your veins. You barely had a hand on the door when you felt a warm body pressed against your back, and Joel was quick to shove you inside the one-stall bathroom. With a quick turn of the lock, he had you pinned to the ceramic sink and his mouth crashing against yours. While you tangled your fingers into his messy curls, Joel worked at your shorts, tugging the tight denim down your hips and thighs. He broke away from your lips, staring down at your bare sex as you spread your legs slightly. 

“Fuckin’ christ, babydoll,” he exhaled. “Can’t believe you been keepin’ this from me all night.”

“Like what you see?” 

Joel wrapped two strong hands behind your thighs and lifted you onto the edge of the sink. You gasped at the shock of the cold against your bare ass, bucking your hips forward to search for his warmth. He lowered himself onto his knees, keeping a firm grip on your thighs as you settled your calves over his shoulders. Peering up at you between your parted legs, Joel gave you a wicked grin before brushing his nose up your inner thighs. 

“You know I won, right?” You questioned as his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. “Technically, I should be calling the shots.”

Joel glared up at you, his pupils blown wide under the red lights of the bathroom. 

“Y’can call the shots all you want later,” he mumbled. “Right now, you’re mine.”

You cried as his tongue dipped inside you, his jaw working overtime to pull each pitiful sound from your body. He drew circles around your slick folds, purposefully avoiding your aching clit. You whined every time his tongue brushed close to it, that agonizing surge of pleasure coursing through your body. Music from the bar drifted into the bathroom, layering over the frustrated cries leaving your lips. 

“Stop teasing, cowboy,” you panted, bucking your hips against his tongue.

“This is what ya’ get, darlin’,” Joel spoke against your wet cunt.

“Please,” you begged.

He pulled away entirely, leaving you chasing the orgasm you never got. Spinning you toward the mirror, Joel worked at freeing his cock with one hand while pressing the other hand into your spine. You flattened against the sink, your hands pressed against the mirror. Glancing up, you met his eyes in the mirror, watching as his lips twitched into a devilish grin. That was all the warning he gave before he drove into you in one fluid stroke. 

“Fuck!” You cried, your head falling between your shoulders.

Joel’s hand wound around your hair, twisting it into a ponytail and yanking your neck back until you strained against his grip. 

“Nuh uh, babydoll,” Joel grunted. “Watch me while I fuck you.”

You locked your eyes with his through the reflection, watching as his face twisted into something carnal. He pounded into you with enough force to make the sink underneath you creak with the weight pressed against it. Joel kept a relentless pace, dismissing every whine and sob falling off your lips. He reached around you with his other hand, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing tight. You heaved in a breath as your vision blurred, the pleasure mixing with pain every time he slammed into you.

Your orgasm started surging up through your core, snaking into your bloodstream and becoming unbearable to hold back. You choked out a sob, your thighs quaking as the pleasure built inside your stomach.

“Joel,” you choked. 

“Y’need to cum, babydoll?” Joel taunted, driving into you hard.

His cock hit the right spot over and over again until he felt your cunt clenching around him. He pulled out at the exact moment your orgasm exploded through your body, liquid gushing out of you and down your thighs. Joel growled in approval, sinking back into you as the aftershocks sent tremors through your limbs.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised. “Keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock. I ain’t done yet, babydoll.”

His hand was still gripping your throat, his fingers applying more pressure to cut off your ragged whimpers. You clawed at the edge of the sink, entirely at Joel’s mercy as he wrecked into you harder…faster. He didn’t lie when he said he was going to fuck the sass out of you; you were helpless in this moment. 

But you fucking loved it.

“So. Fuckin’. Good.” Joel punched out each word through every thrust. 

Joel released your throat and wrapped both hands in your hair, using it to guide your hips back against his cock. You were so full of him and so sore, but you couldn’t deny the pressure swelling inside your stomach. You gasped for air as each thrust grew stronger, his cock assaulting you until you spasmed under him and let your orgasm rush out of you. 

“Fuck! Fuck… fuck… fuck,” you chanted, chasing the throbbing pulse inside your body. 

Warm liquid drenched his cock, the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours echoing around you. Joel pulled out suddenly, leaving you hollow and soaked. Wrangling you to your knees, Joel pumped his cock over your open mouth, grunting out your name as his release painted your tongue and lips. Bending down to eye level, Joel lapped up the cum dripping off your swollen lips before bringing his hand up to slap your cheek. He rubbed a hand over your face, smearing your makeup around, leaving you a fucked-out mess.

“Y’look so pretty like this,” he hummed, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, his tongue intertwining with yours. 

“I love you, babydoll,” he sighed, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“I love you too, cowboy,” you preened. 

You were used to him being rough—dominant—but this possessiveness was intoxicating. You wanted more.

“I think I should sass you more often,” you giggled. 

“You enjoy bein’ fucked like a bratty lil’ slut?” He smirked. 

“Love it,” you exhaled, dragging him back to your mouth. 

Joel helped you back into your shorts after you both took a moment to breathe. You turned towards the mirror and admired the complete mess that you were; your hair was mangled into knots, your shirt was askew, and your face was covered in streaks of mascara, smeared lipstick, and drool. A giggle bubbled out of you as you tried to tame down your hair and wipe away some of the makeup coating your rosy cheeks. Joel grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the mirror.

“Leave it,” he whispered. “Want everyone to see how filthy you are.”

“Seriously?” You gaped. 

Joel nodded his eyes, his eyes coasting over your body. 

“Seriously, babydoll. Need to show them you’re mine.”

“I think they already know,” you said pointedly. “I’m pretty sure I was loud enough to break the jukebox.”

He chuckled at your statement, tapping your ass and guiding you toward the door. Dropping his mouth to your ear, he softly kissed your neck before twisting the lock open.

“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go home so y’can have your way with me.”

“I’m going to make you pay for this, cowboy,” you warned. “I'm going to have you on your knees begging for it.”

“I’ll happily worship you all night, babydoll,” he smiled, kissing your cheek before guiding you into the hall and out to his truck.

[satorusugurugurl]

Yeehaw!!

Summary: Suguru loses a bet to Satoru and had to wear a cowboy costume to a party. But you consider yourself the real winner.

Characters: cowboy!Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: costume play, kissing, sex in a stranger's bed, language, face siting, 69ing, aex, unprotected sex, cream pie, hair pulling

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: Kinktober Day 16! Cowboy!Geto! I think I was possessed when writing this! Holy shit. 😮‍💨

You cannot wait. Excitement shoots through every nerve in your body. You could kiss Gojo right now, but thinking about him like that alleviates some of the arousal that’s pooling between your legs. This was going to be the best night of your life. Your boyfriend had lost a bet against his best friend. I bet that involved costumes for your local Halloween party at the college. Suguru wanted to wear something simple, like a suit and tie. While, Gojo had been insistent on his choice.

You had never been more excited over your boyfriend losing a video game than you had the second Gojo whispered his costume idea to you. You squirmed, toying with your scarecrow costume as there was a sigh from behind the door in front of you. Suguru was not looking forward to this, but you were seconds away from screaming and pure anticipation.

“If you say anything—” his voice was dark and deep. You could almost hear the blush that was fuming in his cheeks. “I swear to God, I will kick you out of the apartment.”

“Seeing that I have a set of keys to the apartment, I think that would be a waste of time.” you bite down on your lip, rubbing between your teeth. “And I can assure you that I will not be laughing.” if anything, he would be fighting back a moan. Because the thought of your boyfriend and this specific outfit had your pussy throbbing.

The door to the bedroom creaked, and out stepped your cowboy boyfriend. God, he looks like a fucking meal. Your mouth watered at the sight of the blue jeans, hugging his thighs to the tight black button-down top around his toned arms. The black bandanna that was tied around his neck. Your heart feels like it’s racing in a 5K marathon.

Suguru looked like sin incarnate, and that sin was lust. It took everything in your power not to pounce on him right then and there. He seemed so shy in his cowboy outfit. Dusty rose hue was tinting his pretty cheeks. He looked anywhere but you. He had no idea just how sexy he was.

“I told you not a damn word.” He jabbed his pointer to you to emphasize his words. “Not a word.”

“Of course,” you responded in a sing-song sweet voice in an attempt not to phase him in the slightest. In reality, all you were thinking about was pushing him down on the couch right there, but he was just feeling a little insecure. You only needed ten minutes with your mouth, and he would feel like a million dollars. However, now was not the time to suck him dry. That would have to wait until after the party.

You stay true to his request, not saying a single word about his costume, even if it was nearly physically impossible not to respect him and his wishes. When all you wanted to do was catcall him like a horny construction worker. But you did your best, staying close to him all night and being his moral support even when Satoru started parading him around the party, which you hadn’t initially minded.

Until you saw the girls staring.

A whole bunch of them were eye fucking him right there in front of you. You could see it in their little eyes that they were mentally trying to undress him despite you being right there by his side. Jealousy turned in your stomach like molten lava, making the alcohol you had drank boil in protest. This came with the territory when dating a supermodel-worthy gorgeous boyfriend. You had gotten used to it. But maybe it was because he was too good-looking tonight; it made you want to go on a spontaneous murder spree whenever someone glanced in his direction.

You had stepped away for just a second to regain your composure and cool before you did something completely irrational when there was a flash of white. You whirled back around, watching as one of the girls that had been oogling your boyfriend all evening grabbed him by the bandanna yanking him down to her height. Suguru looked uncomfortable by this, his violet eyes searching for you in the crowd as the drunk woman twirled her finger around the fabric.

“Say cowboy~ let me take you for a ride?”

Oooh fuck this! This costume was supposed to be for your pleasure! Not for every single woman, man, or person at this fucking party! You snapped forward, little pieces of hay falling out of the sleeve of your dress as you hooked your finger under the loop of his belt, yanking him back towards you. The sudden movement of Suguru falling back into you had the drink he had been nursing to slosh within the orange silo cup before coating his hand in beer which also hit the girl's dress square in the tits.

“Ah!” She screeched, looking down at herself. “What the fuck?!”

You stepped forward, putting yourself between your boyfriend and the stupid angel bitch. “The only person riding him tonight will be me.” The angel’s lips curled up away from her teeth.

“Says who?”

“Says me!” You grabbed hold of his bandanna with your entire hand, yanking him down to your mouth as you kissed him as if no one else was in the room. Suguru’s eyes are wide at your sudden action. But he slowly relaxed, letting you take the lead as you kissed him with ferocity.

You could hear the angel cursing in disapproval before her stiletto clicked against the floor as she walked away. Suguru was the first to pull away, looking around for any sight of the woman. When he realized you guys were safe, he sighed in blissful relief.

“You saved me there, Princess.” There was a certain gleam in his eyes as he turned his attention back down on you. “Talk about that awkward conversation starter, huh?” You say nothing as you grab him by the hand, leading him upstairs. “Hey, what are you doing?” He questioned, eyebrows pinching together as he was shoved into one of the vacant rooms upstairs.

“Something I should have done the second. I saw you in that fucking outfit.”

One second, Suguru is standing before you, and the next, he’s being shoved onto the mattress. “Huh? What?” He props himself up on his elbows, watching as you slowly shimmy your panties down, kicking them across the room.

“I should have kept you all to myself. But I fully intend to make amends for my mistake.”

Suguru greatly underestimated how much you would’ve liked his costume. At first, he was annoyed with the childish game that Satori was playing since he didn’t have much of a childhood. Geto saw this as a way for his best friend to torture him. What he never expected for his girlfriend to be the one to torture him. Because here you were 20 minutes later, your pussy being ground against his mouth as you sucked on his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you both sixty-nine.

But— most really considered as torture?

Because Suguru was losing his fucking mind over how good you tasted and how fucking feral you were. When you shoved him down on the bed, he was expecting you to pull his cock out and just ride him, or maybe you’re going to beg for him to fuck you. You instead took a seat right on his face, grinding your hips and slow, meticulous circles with the last thing he had been expecting. Not that he was one to complain.

It wasn’t very often that you rode his face, but fuck when you allow yourself to loosen the grips you had on yourself. Fuck, and it always led to some pretty amazing sex. You had his cowboy hat off, throwing it across the room as you fisted your fingers through the silk strands of his hair, gripping onto it as if they were reigns, and you rode him up and down slowly over his tongue, grinding your slick pussy all over his willing tongue.

Your head had been tossed back and pure blissful pleasure. Not giving a damn about who might be around to hear you lose yourselves. All that you were concerned with was fucking his mouth. He was slowly cursing himself, wishing you weren’t in a scarecrow costume but a cowgirl costume alongside him. Thinking of you wearing a cute little hat as you rode his face like a fucking horse, had his cock throbbing against his denim jeans, begging to be released.

And luckily for him, it was something you had picked up on. You stopped grinding your pussy on his tongue, pulling back just enough to look into his pretty lilac eyes. Your boyfriend made a sound of disapproval. The second you pulled away from his mouth. But before any protest could leave his talented tongue, you turned around, working at his belt in the buttons to his pants.

All protests vanished along with the blood in his head as it rushed to his cock. That crazed horny manic still fueled your actions. Making you forget momentarily that you both weren’t in the comfort of your own home, but instead, we’re in a stranger's house, a frat house, to be exact. The only thoughts that were going through your mind were how badly you needed his cock in your mouth.

You growled, your eyes rolling back as you wasted no time. You jerked him several times with fast, quick pumps in your adorable hands before you let him into your wet, willing mouth. Usually, Suguru would have been completely enthralled by your talent, watching how you hollowed your cheeks as you’re pretty, perfect lips wrapped around his thick cock. He couldn’t care less about what you looked like sucking him off right now. Because he was more entranced with your dripping wet cunt in his face.

That momentary setback of switching positions came and went like clicking seconds on a clock. Suguru growled, lifting his head, darting his tongue out, sliding it between your slick folds, the tip grazing over your entrance, swirling his tongue around it before he reached up, grabbing a handful of your ass. You cried around his eyes, watering as you struggled to take him further down your throat. Which was surprisingly hard when he was shoving his tongue deep inside your pussy, licking your inner walls without a care in the world.

His enthusiasm nearly had you choking on his dick as he breathed heavily against your swollen folds. Like he had been diving deep in the water and gasping for air. But the only thing he was diving deep into was your sex. He pulled his tongue out from inside of you to lap at your folds again, the tip of his tongue finding your clit with such ease that it had you buckling down on his mouth hard. You cried out, eyes squeezing, as you tried to focus on him and his cock.

Both of you were withering masses as you worked each other to get off, but right before either of you could cum, you pulled off his mouth and his cock, hovering above him. His cock throb angrily in protest. The dark rosey tip twitched, and a droplet of pre-come sheared on the tip before running over to trail down the underside of his cock, making him shiver.

“W-Why’d you stop?” He questioned, watching as you moved, putting your legs underneath his as you presented your backside to him.

“I told you I was going to be riding you tonight.”

Before he could respond, letting you know that you had rode his face, you reached around, grabbing a hold of the base of his cock. He jerked forward, thrusting into your hand as you led the tip toward your entrance, rubbing it up and down the slick folds before pushing yourself down onto his length. Suguru cursed under his breath, back as his jaw clenched tight as you threw your head back while arching your beautiful bareback.

“Nngh fuck!” He huffed out, lifting his head just enough to watch as you sink down completely onto him. Your bodies were pressed flush against each other. “Holy fuck—you’re so fucking wet! Just how much do you like this costume?” it wasn’t so much a question and more like a statement. He knew you liked this costume.

Suguru just wanted to hear you say how much you liked it.

There was a breathless laugh that passed through your lips as you began rocking your hips back and forth while pulling off of his cock, slamming yourself back down onto it. Is it possible for you to be so cute and sexy simultaneously?! You hum breathless moans, filling the vacant room you both are in.

“I-I love it!” You post yourself down onto his length until the head of his cock is pressing right against your cervix. “I fucking love this goddamn costume.” You pulled yourself back up off of a length, allowing him to see your slick, coating his cock. “I-I love it s-so much!”

Suguru hisses through his teeth, becoming more animalistic as you bounce. “Fuck—fuck I can tell you’re so worked up!” He crashes his head to sight as he tries his damnedest to blow his load right then and there. “Fuck you squeezing me too tight, babe!” His hands both reach out to grab handfuls of your ass, squeezing and massaging it before pulling it apart to watch with lustful eyes as you force yourself further down his length.

“Haha!” You laugh out as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling gently on it. “Fuuuck~ I don’t give a damn if you cum too fast right now! I plan on riding you all fucking night.”

Your bounces become something less methodical and more precise, pulling all the way off before his tips snag at your entrance before you slam yourself down on him. Skins clap against skin that sheen with a thin layer of sweat. You’re crying out as you grab hold of his upper thigh for leverage as you throw yourself back onto his cock as if he was your own personal sex toy.

“Fu—hnnngh!” Suguru’s eyes roll back as he grips your ass with a force that’s gonna leave bruises. “Holy fuck, your pussy is so fucking good.” He was trying to fight against the white spots that were forming in his vision as his orgasm was closing in on him. A white ring of your combined arousals forms at the base of his cock, the physical evidence that you were aroused and that you were both close to cumming. And that sight has your boyfriend smirking sinisterly. “Fuck!” Suguru pulls his hands away just to slap them as hard as he can against the fat of your ass. “Ride me, cowgirl, put your fucking back into it.”

Suddenly, the tables have turned on you. “Ahhh!” You cry out, eyes going wide as your boyfriend reaches up, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your back, forcing you to arch your back even deeper. “S-Suguru.” You bouncing like a maniac, like you’re bouncing in his thrust, are the only thing keeping you both alive.

“Yeah, just like that princess, ride my cock, ride me like you fucking mean it.”

“I-I’m—I’m c-cumming!” You cry out, whimpering like the submissive little bitch you know you are. Suguru props himself up on one of his elbows as he continues to use your hair as leverage as he begins fucking up into you in time with your bouncing. “F-Sugu!! Sugu! Cu-cumming!” He laughs low in his belly as he watches you come undone on his cock.

You’re squirting, saving the sheets of the unknown bed that you find yourselves in, not giving a fucking damn about it at the moment. “Fuuck!! Princess, take it!! Fucking take my goddamn fucking cum!” You couldn’t care less because all that mattered, and that moment was feeling your boyfriend fill you up with his hot thick cum. None of the fuckers downstairs mattered. They didn’t even register in your mind as your boyfriend fucked into you like the rugged cowboy he was dressed like.

The man that pushes you, forcing you down into the mattress as he takes control, his hand that’s still wrapped in your hair or your face down into the mattress as you scream into the duvet. Your eyes are watering mascara, and your face makeup is running down your flushed cheeks. Fuck his cum into you, forcing another orgasm out of you as you scream into the mattress. He shudders behind you, pressing his button-down top flush against your back; he grinds into you, pushing him and his new load further inside of you.

And he doesn’t stop until you’re both breathless, lifting your face out of the duvet, turning you to face him. You both are fucked up mess of sweat, spit, and cum. Suguru growls, kissing you deeply, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as the door to the bedroom jiggles as someone tries to get in.

“Fuck off!” Suguru barks out, tying his hair back into a bun as he slaps your ass. “I’m a hardworking cowboy, enjoying the fruit of my labor.” You squeaked out as he flat on his stomach, grabbing your ass, forcing you back onto his mouth where he’s licking your combined cum out of your pussy. You shuddered, eyes rolling back. A sweat beads against your forehead. “Yee-fuckin-haw.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[lovebugism]

Hiiieeeeee may I maybe recommend a fic with Stevie and maybe his ditsy/clumsy gf?

And maybe she tries a new recipe and cooks/bakes something different and gives herself a nasty burn and maybe it’s the first time Steve hears her swear and he’s so concerned over her because she’s clearly hurt and crying but she’s more upset about messing up the dish instead of how badly the burn actually is?

hope u like it angel xoxo — steve patches you up after you burn yourself making breakfast for him (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of minor injuries, 1k)

French toast sizzles on a hot pan. You stand in front of the stove, in nothing but a stolen t-shirt and a modest pair of underwear, and watch it cook with your features pinched in a distant concentration. Your Stevie wanted breakfast — “’s the only thing I want in the whole world,” the boy whined dramatically into his pillow — so you were gonna make him breakfast or die trying.

Steve sits quiet at the kitchen table, sipping steaming coffee from a Count Chocula mug, and hissing every time it burns his tongue. He decides to flip through the Sunday newspaper, mostly ‘cause he feels the honeyed domesticity calls for it. He only finds real interest in the cartoon page.

“Alright. Put ‘em up,” Charlie Brown threatens in the first panel, dressed head to toe in cowboy gear. Snoopy’s in the second one, with both of his black ears sitting straight in the air.

Steve chuckles to himself, a sharp exhale through his nose, and opens his mouth to call you over. “Fuck!” he hears you squeak before he can. It makes him laugh for real this time. “Hey. Watch the language, babe,” the boy teases.

“Sorry…” he hears you murmur in response. With your back still facing him, obscuring any view of the hot stove, he figures you must’ve burnt the first batch of toast. 

It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing, anyway. You’re the clumsiest person he’s ever met (more than Robin, which he didn’t think was even possible). You’re not much of a chef either, bustling around the kitchen with a floundering air of confidence.

“Such a naughty word from such a pretty girl,” Steve jokes in an attempt to make you laugh. He hears his sensitive girl sniffle to herself instead, like you’re crying — or about to. His crooked smile ebbs. “Hey… I was just kidding, babe. You can say whatever the hell you want�� I don’t care.”

His chair scrapes the tile when he stands. His socked feet pad against the floor on his way to you. “I swear all the time,” Steve says and embraces you from behind. His scruffy chin bobs on your shoulder. “I mean, you’ve heard me— I basically make up new words.”

He scoffs a faint laugh before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You sniffle again. “I messed up,” you murmur, voice wet with unshed tears.

“What do you mean?”

“The french toast. I put too much egg in the mixture, and now everything’s all sticky— It’s gonna be so gross now.”

You ramble mindlessly and gesture with your hands. Steve catches a glimpse of a red and raging welt on the outside of your thumb. The sight of the fresh burn makes his chest twist.

“Holy shit, babe.”

You meet his concerned gape with a doe-eyed look. “What?”

“Your hand— Let me see.”

He takes your fingers in his gentle, softly calloused ones. You shrug off his palpable worry but let him examine your stinging skin nonetheless. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt,” you lie through your teeth. “I barely even felt it.”

Steve’s peers at you beneath his lashes, bushy brows raised until his forehead wrinkles. “It’s gotta hurt, babe,” he insists in a monotone.

“My bruised pride hurts more.”

He grins before he means to. “Come on, weirdo— let’s get a bandaid on you,” the boy chuckles and turns off the burning stove-eye. You gasp when he tugs you out of the kitchen with a gentle hand around your wrist.

“But breakfast!” you whine in protest.

“I’ll drive us to the diner after, alright? I promise,” Steve assures as he leads you down the hallway. “That way neither of us has to die to put some food on the table.”

“Well, that’s just dramatic.”

He shrugs and flips on the bathroom light. “Maybe a little.”

You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, per Stevie’s instructions, while he fishes for the first aid kit in the cabinets. He fits just perfectly between your thighs, you notice, as he rubs ointment onto your finger with an impossibly gentle touch. You quickly forget about the raised welt on your thumb — too focused on the pretty boy who holds all his love in his hands.

“There you go. Good as new,” Steve smiles once he’s stuck a plaster flush to your skin. He doesn’t notice the small pout scrunching your pretty face until he’s closed the first aid kit. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’…” you murmur, gaze averted as you pick at the fraying hem of your oversized tee. “I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, but I messed it all up, and you ended up having to do something nice for me…”

Steve scoffs. “You do nice stuff for me all the time.”

Your frown deepens.

“You tidied up the house when I was working late yesterday,” he tells you. “And you did the dishes even though you hate doing the dishes—”

“Everyone hates doing the dishes,” you insist.

“Exactly!”

“Well, you said death would be easier than doing them, so I thought it’d make it easier on you by doing it while I was off…”

“Exactly,” Steve repeats, settling between your legs once more. He smooths a pair of wide palms over the outsides of your thighs and flashes you another pretty smile. “You make everything easier on me. Even when you don’t mean to.”

You peek at him beneath your lashes, gaze glimmering with something short of hope. “Really?” you wonder in a mousy voice.

“Yeah! All the time!” the boy scoffs without thinking. 

He wraps a pair of golden arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for a smothering hug. Your hands curl into his sweatshirt as you bury your face in his neck — inhaling the sweet scent of sleep and leftover cologne lingering there. 

Steve noses at your hair, still a bit wild from your slumber. “Except for when you accidentally burn yourself and act like it’s not a big deal,” he teases with a smile curling at your temple.

Muffled against his neck, you grumble, “It wasn’t.”

[hanmaitani]

First Impressions are Deceiving

PAIRING - Scummy! Fushiguro Toji, Gojo Satoru, Kamo Choso, & Nanami Kento x Reader WC - 4.7K GENRE - smut CW - HEAVY DUBCON, college au, reader called 'princess', drinking, drugging, semi-public, gangbang, hair pulling, finger sucking, no prep, unprotected sex, riding, oral (m!receiving), dp, anal, dacryphilia, choking, creampie. SYNOPSIS - you like to think you're good at knowing who you can and can't trust, but a halloween party that your friend drags you to might show you that you're more naive than you thought...

You hate parties. Especially frat parties. But your best friend loved them. She had begged you “just this once” to come with her to the Halloween party of the biggest fraternity on campus. Literally begged you. On her knees.

Your costume was haphazardly put together. A bustier, royal blue with black lace, flimsy ribbon keeping it together down the back. It pushed your breasts up, giving your more cleavage than you usually would have, bits of it spilling over the top. A short tube skirt, soft yellow, ending just below the tops of your thighs with a zipper running the length down the front. Just below the bottom of your skirt, your socks started-black stockings that clung to your legs, all the way down to your uncomfortably high black heels. There was a bright red ribbon in your hair, haphazardly tied as a headband and matching the color of your lipstick.

Your friend, for wanting you here so badly, had disappeared almost immediately into the crowd, leaving you alone in an unfamiliar frat house, in a crowd that was vastly different from what you were used to. You sighed slightly, sipping on your drink as you leaned against the wall, watching the crowd. It wasn’t alcohol in your cup, you weren’t brave enough to drink when you’d lost your friend, instead sipping on a virgin version of your favorite mixed drink.

“You look like you’re having a fun time.” The low and steady voice was heard before you noticed the body leaning against the wall beside you. You turned your head to take him in, he wasn’t looking at you, instead watching the crowd you had just been watching. It somehow put you at ease.

He was wearing a black button up shirt tucked into a set of brown pants, a matching brown jacket hung on his shoulders. He had a cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes, blonde hair peeking out the sides as he adjusted his tie.

“Parties aren’t quite my thing, Mr…”

He chuckled, turning towards you then, flicking a small metal star pinned to his jacket lapel. “It’s sheriff, actually.” You giggled slightly and put your hand over your chest in apology. “Sheriff Nanami.”

“Sorry, Sheriff Nanami.” You smiled and stuck your hand out for him to shake. “I’m-”

“Princess Snow White, right?”

You chuckled, glancing down quickly at your outfit sheepishly. “Yeah, great guess actually.” You chuckled, giving him an awkward smile as you sipped on your drink.

He hummed softly in response. You weren’t sure what it was about him, he seemed to emanate seriousness, steadiness. Him towering next to you made you feel almost protected. “What are you drinking?” He peeked down at your cup and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when he looked back at your face. “Juice? At a party?”

“It-well it isn’t like that.” You giggled nervously as he raised his eyebrows expectantly for you to go on. “I came with my friend, but she seems to have disappeared on me. Don’t really know anyone else here.”

“Well you know me now.” You nodded along, completely enraptured by his aura. “You can stick with me until she comes back, I’ll protect you.” He shot you a smile and you were sure you felt every fiber in your being melt in spot.

“I mean, if you insist.” You chuckled and tried to keep him from seeing your obviously flustered face.

“You can come chill with me and my brothers, I’ll get you a drink.” You went to protest but he cut you off before you could. “If you’re stuck here, might as well have some fun yourself, right?” You smiled and nodded. Nanami’s hand fell to your lower back, guiding you gently from the wall and closer to him, moving the two of you towards the crowd.

“Wait-” you looked up at him as you continued to follow his lead, words processing in your brain, “brothers?” You asked, head tilting in confusion.

“Yeah,” he huffed a laugh from his nose as you two reached a small archway that led to a much less populated area, “this is my frat’s house.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh! Sorry you just didn’t strike me as a frat guy.”

“I get that a lot.” He pushed on a cracked door and nodded his head for you to come in. You paused for a second, nervous to enter the new room, there was loud music coming from inside, different than the beat from the room you’d just left and you were sure you could smell some smoke. “I said I’d protect you, right?”

Something inside of you softened and the slight hesitation faded as quickly as it had come. “Right.” You smiled as you ducked inside the room.

“Heyyyy, you brought a new friend!” The first thing you see when you enter the room is a pair of strikingly clear blue eyes directly in your vision. You stumble back for a moment, only to run into Nanami’s solid chest. You look up to him to see him glaring at the man behind the eyes.

Feeling much safer against Nanami, you have a moment to fully take in the man who had startled you. He’s lanky, incredibly so, as he stands to his full height, taller than even Nanami. His white hair is coated in what you assume is the colored hair spray that you can find on every shelf in town this time of year, pink on one side and blue on the other. The white baseball tee that’s been crudely cropped with scissors clues you into exactly when his costume is. It reads “Daddy’s Lil Monster”. Your vision trails slightly down, to the space between the edge of the shirt and the buckle on his dangerously low jeans, the hard lines of his abs on full display, white hairs trailing down to his-

Your eyes snap back up to his mouth as he loudly pops his gum. A smirk has settled on his lips as he looks at you and you know you’ve been caught.

“Brought us a princess, did ya?” Your head snaps to another man in the room. He’s lazily spread on one of the chairs, legs open wide like he’s asking someone to come stand between them. His legs are clad in loose blue pants, rolled up at the cuffs to expose the laces of the black boots he wore. His top half was covered in a loose white top, too low of a v on the neck that clearly exposed his pec muscles underneath. A red sash cinched around his waist and seemed to only accentuate how big he was. The bottom half of his face was covered by his drink, the only thing visible for you being his green eyes and the shaggy black hair from under which he peered at you. When he spoke again your eyes immediately found the scar at his lips and watched it stretch as he talked. “I think I’m the prince you’re looking for.”

A scoff from the last body in the room drew your attention. He was so quiet there that you’d hardly noticed him. “Wrong fucking princess, pea brain.” He spoke in a bored tone, his brown hair was tied into two sloppy buns on the top of his head and he had a strange looking tattoo across the bridge of his nose, although you thought it seemed to suit him well. You caught a glimpse of his sharpened canines as he spoke, watching as they slightly caught on his lip. He was mostly in plain clothes, although he was sipping a drink from a straw stuck in a fake blood bag. You assumed he wanted to be here as much as you did, attempting to play the part of vampire with minimal effort.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them, all bark no bite, princess.” Nanami glared at the two louder boys as he guided you, hand on the small of your back, to the couch where the quieter boy sat. Said quiet boy, gave you a small nod in greeting but didn’t choose to say anything further. “That’s Gojo,” Nanami gestured to the Harley Quinn dress up to which the lanky boy responded with a dramatic twirl and bow, “Toji,” a small point to who you assumed (as he said he was a prince) to be Prince Eric who only drank more of his cup as he stared at you. The stare from Toji made you want to cling closer to Toji, nervously fiddling with your skirt. “This is Choso.”

“Hi.” Your voice sounded small in the room as you found yourself sitting between Nanami and Choso on the couch. Nanami seemed to trust Choso the most and from his quieter nature you were inclined to agree with the sentiment.

“Let me get you a drink.” Nanami stood nearly as soon as he sat, as if remembering the purpose of bringing you into the room. You instinctually curled closer to Choso as Gojo fell onto the couch in place of Nanami, hand immediately falling to your thigh, thumb rubbing circles as he leaned closer to flirt.

“Go away.” Choso’s arm wrapped your waist easily, pulling you further into him as he snarled at Gojo. You blushed at the feeling, you hadn’t noticed just from looking at him, but feeling his arm now, Choso seemed to be just as strong as the rest of them. His muscles twitched around you and you swallowed down the nervousness as Gojo rolled his eyes and got up.

“Th-thank you.” You mumbled but Choso just grumbled and released his hold on you.

“Vodka and apple juice for the princess.” Nanami joked as he plopped back into his spot besides you.

You laughed at the drink but took it anyways. “Like Snow White and her poisoned apple?” You smiled at the irony as you went to sip on the straw he’d given you so you didn’t ruin your lipstick.

You missed the look that the boys shared around you as you narrowed in on your drink, feeling safe between Nanami and Choso. “Yeah, like Snow White and her poisoned apple.” Nanami chuckled back. You had no idea just how poisoned it was.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

You felt warm as you giggled again, a wave of dizziness hitting you out of nowhere. You clung to Nanami’s arm to keep yourself upright as you continued to laugh at something Gojo had said, not nearly as funny as you were currently finding it. Nanami sure knew how to mix his drinks strong, you weren’t even sure how many he’d fed to you at that point.

“You warm?” Choso’s question had you realizing that you’d been fanning yourself to cool down the heat on your skin.

“Oh.” Your voice sounded more surprised than you felt and there was a hint of embarrassment crawling across your cheeks. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Let me help.” You watched with wide eyes as Choso untied the ribbon acting as your headband and pressed it between his teeth. Your attention was held by how the silk of the red ribbon dimpled around the fangs in his mouth. His hands brushed the back of your neck and it seemed to light your nerves on fire, sending a shockwave of goosebumps across your body. You shivered when he held your makeshift ponytail in place with one hand, the other pulling the ribbon from between his teeth. You watched hazily as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip before you realized he was speaking. “Better?”

Your hands came up blindly to touch the ponytail he’d made for you, held up by your former headband. You nodded quietly, wide eyes still looking up at him, held by the smirk on his lips. “Ye-yeah, thank you.”

“No, thank you, your neck is pretty, should show it off.” You watched his tongue run over his fangs as his thumbnails scraped lightly along your jugular.

“Trying too hard to live up to the vampire costume, Choso.” Toji joked from across the room, his gaze on you had gotten heavier, leering more obviously now.

“Can’t help it.” Choso’s eyes flicked up to your own, smiling at how blown out they were, and the fact that you had no idea. “Something about having a pretty girl’s vulnerable little neck between my teeth really gets me going.”

You gasped when you felt Choso’s teeth graze against the spot where his thumb just was. You were quick to jump off the couch, suddenly feeling nervous. Your feet fumbled under you, tripping over Nanami’s in your scramble to get away from Choso. A pair of arms caught you as you stumbled, holding you upright.

“Hey, hey, relax. What’s got you all worked up?” Gojo’s arms caged you against him and even though you struggled, it was in vain. It was like your strength had been drained from you, your arms feebly trying to push his from your body.

“Ge-get off me.” You shrieked slightly before your gaze landed on Nanami. He was still reclined on the couch, sipping on his cup as he watched you. “Na-Nanami?” Your voice begged for him, asking for help. But he didn’t move, just watched.

“Oh, princess.” Toji’s voice was condescending as he came into view next, his head appearing next to Gojo’s above you. “Weren’t you taught not to take apples from strangers?” He chuckled as he and Gojo spun you in a circle, throwing you even more off balance.

Fear struck you through the heart when you fell to your knees in front of Nanami. You shook as he peered down at your body between his knees, your wobbly lips looking up at him. “They might truly be poisoned, you know.” Nanami’s chuckle seemed darker than it was before, the comforting protectiveness that he had previously radiated was gone and you seemed to fear him just as much as the rest now.

“Bu-but.” You whimpered as your eyes jumped from one figure to the other. You were suddenly aware of the blur to your vision. You were sure that you hadn’t had enough alcohol to affect your movement and vision as much as it was being affected. Even your thoughts seemed to move sluggishly. And the heat that you’d thought Choso had been helping to relieve you from, wasn’t on your skin like you’d thought, but rather crawling under it, burning into your veins and forcing your breathing to get heavier. Air that only fanned the fire.

“Bu-but.” Nanami mocked as he leaned forward. The rim of his hat brushed against your forehead and the glint of his sheriff’s badge only seemed to mock you now. The protection he’d given you now falling away like the facade that it truly had been. “God they’re always so cute when they realize.”

Al-always? They?

It dawned on you slowly that you’d fallen straight into their perfectly practiced trap.

“Come onnn, Nanamin.” Gojo whined from behind you, pouting at the blond man in front of you. Gojo’s hands brushed against your bare shoulders and before you could jerk away from them, they were slapped away.

“You know the rules,” Toji chastised his dramatic frat brother, “he caught her which means he gets her first.”

“Well he can hurry up is all I’m saying.” Gojo huffed and glared at Nanami. Nanami didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed amused as the weight of your situation seemed to settle into your bones.

You scramble then, a split second decision, rushing to try and squeeze between the two men behind you. You barely catch a glimpse of freedom through the crack in the door but it isn’t close enough.

A large hand wraps around the ponytail that Choso had just made for you, a harsh pull that has tears immediately falling from your eyes and you scrambling to follow its lead, desperate to relieve the tension it places on your scalp. You sob as you’re pulled high on your knees in front of Nanami and then higher up, him easily pulling you into his lap by the grip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” The rough pad of his finger brushed against the apple of your cheek, wiping your tears as you sniffle on his lap. “You wanted to come back here with me.” You shook your head then, frantically trying to deny it. Not like this. Not like this. “I said I’d protect you right? Promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“Wa-wait.” Your hands’ attempts to untangle yourself from him proved to be futile as Nanami unbuckled the belt on his pants. “Ple-please wa-” Nanami’s finger’s entered your mouth with no warning, forcing you to gag on them, your saliva flooding your mouth and coating them.

“Thanks princess.” He laughed when you gasped for air as his fingers left your mouth, and you missed the way they dropped between the two of you to coat himself in your saliva, slicking up his cock. “You’re gonna wanna take a deep breath.” He mumbled as his fingers brushed against your core. Even though you bucked away, his grip was too strong, lifting your hips just enough to line his cock up with your little hole as he held your panties to the side.

The scream forced out of your lungs as he dropped you, in one fluid motion, on his cock ricocheted off the walls and there was soon a hand clasped over your mouth. Toji’s hand, to be exact. He jerked your head back so you were forced to look up at him, as he watched your eyes widen in pain.

“Oh fuck she’s so tight.” Nanami groaned, both his hands on your hips as your hands pressed against his abs through his shirt. Your eyes crossed when he dragged your body up, the feeling of his cock moving when you weren’t yet ready had you crying into Toji’s palm. “Think you’re tighter when you cry.” Nanami plummeted your body back down and your scream couldn’t be muffled this time.

Your mind spun, your vision blurry as he bounced you on him like a mere doll. “Look at the cute princess losing her mind.” Gojo’s voice barely reached your ears as your mind was consumed with the way Nanami’s cock split you open over and over, stroking the fire in your gut.

Toji’s hand left your mouth and even though you tried to scream the only thing that came out was a wanton moan. They flooded out of you now, whines and moans, high pitched hiccups in your voice as Nanami’s thrusts got faster. Your hips ached already, at the way his slammed into yours.

“So noisy.” Choso chided you, hand tugging on your ponytail to turn your upper body to him. “Quiet down.” He forced your body to twist unnaturally towards him and fold you forward. You squeaked at the new angle Nanami’s cock was being forced into you at, your jaw dropping as you gasped. Choso was quick to push his cock into the open space you’d accidentally created for him. The sound of your gagging sent Choso groaning, his head tipping back at the feeling. You could feel Choso’s hand on the back of your neck, the cold of his rings soothing the heat under your skin. Your head moved on its own volition now, barely needing the guidance of Choso as you moved. “There you go princess.”

Your body shuddered and shook, your core tightening around Nanami as he continued his antics. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, too many hands on your body overwhelming your senses. Two hands were grabbing one of your wrists, pulling your hand to wrap around the final two cocks. Your eyes flickered over to where Toji and Gojo had your one hand wrapped around both of them at once, dragging your fist-small in comparison to theirs-up and down their cocks.

You gasped as your body was pulled from the couch. Lifting you unceremoniously off of Nanami’s cock first. Your cunt clenched around its emptiness. Your tongue still connected to Choso’s cock with your own spit, lips trying to chase after him as you whined. There was a small ring of red around the base of Choso’s cock, partially obscured by his pubes, the remnants of your lipstick.

“Fuck, I was just about to cum.” Nanami groaned in irritation as your body was separated.

“You got all night, shut up.” Toji growled, pulling your body onto his where he laid back onto the carpet. Your voice shook as he filled you up just as fast as Nanami had, your body screaming at the extra stretch. “Fuck, thought you’d stretched her out.” Toji snidely remarked towards Nanami with a smirk. “Oh fuuuuuuuck.” Toji groaned under you, his fingers easily snaking between your bodies in search of your clit.

He kept your hips pinned to him, his cock filling you to the brim as his fingers unrelentingly press to your clit. Your back arches and you can hear Gojo’s voice in your ear from behind you, coaxing you to fall over the edge. Your body was still shaking when your senses started to come back, you r cunt clenching around Toji. Your upper body fell onto his as your muscles relaxed.

“Yeah, just relax princess.” Gojo’s laugh echoed in your ear. You could hear him spit, feeling the liquid hit your lower back you whined when it started to slide. Your body jerked when Gojo’s thumb spread the spit lower, swiping diligently over your empty hole. Your eyes widened and your hips tried to move away, but you were pinned in place by Toji’s hands. “Relax, it won’t hurt for long.” Gojo chuckled lowly in your ear as his thumb pressed inside of you easily. Choso’s fingers were quick to slip inside your mouth, keeping you from protesting as Gojo pressed in his other thumb and captivating your attention.

“Breathe.” Choso mumbled, his lips coming to your ear then. You could feel his fingers massaging your tongue, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck. Choso’s teeth buried themself in your skin at the base of your neck where it met your collarbone, the pain blossoming out from the spot at the same moment that Gojo easily replaced his fingers with his cock, plunging into you without warning. The scream that came from your body was muffled by Choso’s fingers but hurt your throat just the same. “Hey princess, see it’s not so bad.” Choso withdrew his fingers, wanting to hear your sobs wrack your frame.

His saliva covered fingers smeared around your lips as you looked up at him, bleary eyes finding his. He was focused on smearing your lipstick more, smirking at the mess he’d made of your mouth. He was also becoming fond of the teeth marks he’d left on your neck and wanted to leave more.

“Aw she’s cryin’.” Gojo chuckled, hand wrapping around your throat from behind as he jerked your head up to get a better look. “You had pretty makeup on, it’s all ruined now.” He pouted at you and it only seemed to spur the tears on more. He smirked at the sight, his tongue flicking out to trail up the line left by your tears. Your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment as you tried to focus on something else. Anything but the way Gojo and Toji seemed to split you apart, not even moving yet, and the way your body probably looked wrecked.

“This is in the way.” Toji’s voice under you barely registered before you could hear the tearing of fabric and the cold air against your torso. You whimpered when your eyes opened to see your bustier top being dropped next to the torn remnants of your panties, you didn’t even know when they’d done that. Every sense was blurring into the next one. Your skirt was still bunched around your waist and your thigh highs had started to slip, resembling closer to knee highs.

“You want them to move?” Nanami’s hand took hold of your jaw, jerking your face to look at him. The motion had Gojo’s hand on your throat tightening and you choked slightly at the motion. As much as you were afraid, you were sure them not moving was worse. Your head nodded before you gave it consent to. “Beg them for it then, they’ve got egos they need stroked.”

Your breath shook as you tried, your voice coming out as a small squeak at first. “Please.” You whimpered when Gojo’s grip tightened and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would lessen the burn that was etching across your cheeks. “Please move, go-god you’re so big. Feel too full. Please.” You whimpered at the words that fell from your mouth like honey but it seemed to be enough for them.

“Jeez baby, just had to ask.” Toji chuckled from beneath you. You barely had time to feel Toji lift your hips slightly before both men began to move. Your mouth fell open in a moan, broken and pitiful as they picked up a rhythm in time with another. Practiced. Like they’d done it many times before. If you could think properly you’d realize that they had. But you were too far gone for that.

The pain that had existed was being pressed away with every thrust they delivered into you. The drag of their cocks against your walls, against each other through your barriers had you seeing stars. The drugs and alcohol in your system worked in tandem with the stimulation, slurring your words and your thoughts as you babbled, head hanging as you choked yourself on Gojo’s hand more.

“Give me this.” Nanami grabbed one of your wrists from where it laid on top of Toji’s chest, attempting to hold yourself up and yanked it higher, above your head. “Come on, earn something.” You whined but let Nanami wrap your hand around his cock and followed his lead as best you could to stroke up and down. Your movements were sloppy but grew more enthusiastic when you heard the symphony of moans from the men around you.

“What does the princess want?” Choso asked, catching your eyes again as he thumbed at your lip again. He smiled at the far off look in your eye, his favorite one that girls got. You couldn’t get your tongue to properly form a word as Gojo and Toji fucked you into the high heavens. Instead, you wrapped your lips around Choso’s thumb dutifully, and batted your starry eyes at him. “Well if the princess demands it.” He chuckled as he stood up, turning your head to him. He patted at your cheek lightly and you obediently let your jaw drop and your tongue fall out. “Isn’t it so much easier when you relax?”

You kept Choso in your blurry vision the best you could as he pressed his cock against your tongue again, sliding it easily inside your mouth. You didn’t even notice when he swatted Gojo’s hand away from your throat so he could better fuck into it. Your eyes leaked more tears and your body was only being held up by the multiple pairs of hands. You were sure your vision was going out but you couldn’t be positive.

“Fu-fuck!” Gojo’s broken moan reached your ears and the foreign feeling of his cum shooting into you sent the feeling straight up your spine. Your eyes rolled and you were cumming, cunt clamping down around Toji’s cock as Gojo pulled out of you.

“Hey what the fuck!” Toji’s growl was your only notice as you were pulled away from the cocks inside of you again, manhandled up off the floor and into Nanami’s arms. You didn’t have to whine about being empty for long. Nanami, with his arms hooked under your legs, was quick to sink his cock back into your cunt.

“You got all night to cum in her.” Nanami repeated Toji’s taunt back from earlier and you were oblivious to the scowl the latter currently had… or that it would be taken out on you.

“Careful with the little princess. Don’t want her to break before I get my fun.” Choso’s words felt like a threat in your ear. But your brain, having trouble sorting through the threats and comfort, latched onto it-whining as you leaned back into him. “Bet she chooses me to take her home after this.”

a/n happy halloween <3

TAGLIST -

@tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501

@qichun @megumuro @s0uldarling @seiri-ously @deepenthevoid

@winniethepooh-lover @stunies @little-miss-naill @hayatoseyepatch @theycallmenanamisgirl

@cl-0-vr @iluv-ace @rockrose-blossoms @afire24 @raven-nevra

[thehauntedetheral]

A Little Drabble About My Yan Characters Attending A Wedding

Requests are open!

Yan Secret Admirer: Brought you here with him under the name of company representative. (and giving you his black card for dress shopping for this wedding with no budget limit)

Yan Arranged Fiance: Dragged you here with him against your will and told every guest you were his beautiful fiancee while showing your huge ass diamond engagement ring

Meanwhile you the whole time giving him dead glares.

Yan Neighbour: who brought you as his date and stabbed a fork in someone's hand because they were flirting with you.

Yan Stalker: who is attending this wedding as wedding crasher only to stalk you.

Yan Cowboy: Attending this wedding only in hope of meeting you by chance.

Yan Boyfriend (the one who was jealous of your nephew) : excited to attend wedding with you thinking soon it will be yours. Observers every detail of wedding to plan yours. And yes your nephew is definitely gonna be the ring bearer. Period.

Yan Husband ( with pregnant reader) : didn't wanted to come at first place thinking about your and baby's safety but ignoring his protest you still came so now he is with you following and acting like a personal bodyguard.

Yan Human Prince: who left in middle of ceremony because he was missing his mermaid y/n. ( Goes to sea shore to meet you)

Yan Bruce Wayne: Making sure his beloved wife don't turn into demon and eat some man instead of wedding food.

Meanwhile yan tribe following you around the forest like a puppy.

To read about this yandere characters fics checkout:

[mustainegf]

HEY GANGSTER. 🦐

imagine like,,, ‘95 James making you ride his boot as you suck him off, with him praising you and lightly tapping his foot,,, FUCK

HIII KENNE!!!! This turned out so good dude omg

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: boot riding, oral m receiving, slight choking

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ¹⁹⁹⁵

“Good girl,” I hear as I pull my panties down and get on my knees. I look up at James through my lashes and see him sitting lazily in the chair, stroking his cock. He has his legs spread apart, his knees bent slightly to accommodate the long length of him. He’s wearing his black leather cowboy boots and I feel a slight throb between my thighs.

“Now get up here and shine my boot with that wet pussy.” I look down at my thighs and see them glistening with arousal.

I crawl over to him and lean forward, resting my arms on his legs, his left thigh to be exact. My lips brush his cock as I do so and he chuckles, moving it so that I’m holding it in place with my chin. “That’s a good girl. Now take my cock in your pretty mouth.” I moan and take it all the way in, his hand coming to rest at the back of my head to gently push me down. He lets out a satisfied sigh and I swallow around him, wanting him to feel good.

He moans again and then pulls me back by my hair until I’m sitting up straight. “I think I’ll just watch you suck my cock for a minute.” He slides his hands along my thighs and I arch my back slightly, sticking my breasts out. “You’re so wet.” His hands slide up and he grabs my waist, lifting me up so that I’m straddling his left leg, his knee bent up slightly to accommodate me. I slide back down his thigh so that my pussy is now resting on top of his boot.

His hands go back to stroking his cock, his eyes never leaving mine. “Ride my boot,” he orders me and I obey immediately, moving my hips back and forth against the leather. He leans back in the couch and looks down at me, his eyes scanning my body before focusing on my face. He’s looking at me through hooded eyes and I know I’m going to make a mess on his boot.

“I don’t think you’re doing it right,” he teased evilly and I move my hips faster. “Not that fast. I want you to rub that pretty pussy all over my boot, nice and slow.”

I slow down and he moves his leg so that his boot is rubbing my clit. “That’s it,” he coos as I moan. I feel myself getting close and I’m trying to fight it off as much as possible, wanting to cum on his boot when he tells me I can. I’m riding his boot up and down, his foot moving my pussy every time I come back down.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises and I look up to see him stroking his cock slowly, his hand moving as he watches me. “You’re really working for it,” he says as he moves his leg again, this time tapping his foot up into my clit and making me gasp.

“Oh fuck,” I moan as he taps it again.

“Take my cock in your mouth again, baby,” he orders and I slide and take him deep in my mouth, still grinding down on the rough leather. “Oh fuck,” I hear as I start to bob my head up and down his cock.

“Fuck, that’s good.” I moan again and I can feel myself getting close, my hips moving faster against his boot.

“Not yet,” he says and I whine in protest, but slow myself down, not wanting to disobey him. “I love the way your face looks when you’re sucking my cock,” he says as he pulls back and looks at me, his hand moving faster. I can feel his thighs tightening beneath me and I know he’s getting close.

“I’m gonna to cum soon, baby. You’re going to swallow all of it down.” I moan at that and his hand comes up to wrap around my throat. “Do you like that? You like when I choke you?” I moan again and he laughs, his hand tightening. “Yeah, I thought you did. Now, I want you to rub your pussy on my boot until you cum.” I nod and he lets go of my neck.

“Look at that,” he says and I look down to see him gripping the base of his cock, my saliva covering as I sucked “That’s it,” he moans, “ride that boot like you would my cock.” I moan and start moving my hips faster, feeling myself getting closer and closer.

“That’s it, baby, rub that pussy all over my boot. I’m going to cum soon. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” I moan in response as I feel myself getting closer and closer. “Yeah, you are. You’re going to swallow my cum like a good girl and then you’re going to cum all over my boot.” I feel my orgasm start to crest and I cry out, still riding his boot.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over it.” I moan loudly and throw my head back, still moving my hips until I feel my orgasm end.

“There we go,” he says as I slump forward, panting. “That’s what I like to see.” His hand comes to rest on my ass and I feel him move his leg up and down my slit. “Look at that,” he says and I look down to see his boot covered in my juices. “Shining my boot like a good girl.”

I moan at that and lean forward, sucking his cock into my mouth to help him finish off. I can taste the excitement on him and it turns me on. “Oh fuck,” he says and I feel his thigh tighten under me. I move my hips faster as I take him as far as I can go, my throat closing around him.

He jerks suddenly and I feel him cum down my throat. “Fuck,” he says as he moans and thrusts up into my mouth. “Swallow it down,” he says and I do, his hand coming up to hold my head in place.

“That’s it,” he says and I feel his cum shoot down my throat. “Swallow it all for me.” I do and he pulls me back, his cock popping out of my mouth. “Oh fuck,” he says and I look up at him.

“Now… my other boot needs shining, doll…”

[wroteclassicaly]

Girl. Gator. Plus size girl. Blurb. Go!

Lol. I just love the way you utilize details and I need this mans hands on me in the worst way rn. Lol. MAYBE somewhere where we could get caught😈

Oooooh, you’re speaking right to my soul 😭

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, Gator acts like his jerky, bitchy, temper tantrum throwing, misogynistic, toxic self. Body positive, plus size reader with large breasts, hidden hookups, spit, some titty play, vaginal fingering, jealous and possessive Gator, slightly mean reader, degrading kink, praise kink mention, filthy talk, mean Gator, dominant reader/dominant Gator, public smut, getting caught, and NSFW.

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus Size Female Reader

Wordcount: 2,043

A/N: Really love working on exploring Gator with a bigger girlie, because in the Midwest, his options would’ve been a lot of big women. Sooooo, yeah. ;) Note that this is not some fluffy Gator. Man is gonna be mean and nasty as hell, so be warned (he’s cornered with his feelings and he doesn’t like that shit)!

~*~

He really cannot fucking believe this. You actually have the nerve to show up where you know that he will be, dressed like this, acting as if you didn’t want him to call you the second that you got back into town (Because WHEN the fuck did you get back? And why didn’t you call him?). A calloused trigger finger massaged off leftover condensation, nothing but mere drops of amber liquid left over in his glass. He feels like a snarling, raging beast, a fucking embarrassment.

And you simply tuck your handbag into your armpit, situating the end of a very tight black dress, one that slices into a cutoff at your cleavage, the swells of your goods leaving little to the imagination. Stupid bitch. Those are his tits. Besides, since when do you care about what you wear out when you rarely come to bars or club joints around town, anyways…? Your makeup is dark, like wafts of smoke, shimmering on your lid, lips lined a deep blood red, something else you never do around him, either.

Okay, so he’s not good enough to try all of your tricks on?

He’s got that familiar clench starting in his toes, licking his muscles with electricity, pushing on his ribcage, digging painfully into his internal organs to do something. You wave at a couple of local girls, but you don’t join them at a table, no. You head directly to some punk faced fuck in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other. Gator’s eyes widen so hard that the muscles protest in stroking stings, his fist clenching over his thigh, knuckles white, taunt flesh wrapped shakily around his glass. He lets it go before it shatters.

A date. A fucking, motherfucking date.

You couldn’t call him, didn’t text him (embarrassing how much he refreshed your thread, honestly), but you bitch about secrecy. And this is what he gets for staying sober from the pussy he could be getting? Nah, he’s not gonna be shown up by some slut that should be grateful he gives her attention at all, and definitely not with this fucking pencil dick of a man, whose joke you’re pathetically giggling at. Abandoning his glass, Gator is walking his way on a sticky bar floor, passing your backside to slam his hands on your table and let out a hysterical chuckle.

“Well, bust my balls. What’s so funny over here, huh?”

Gator takes a mental backflip for points as your eyes widen and you look like you’ve dove into the pools of humiliation. Your date, for lack of better word - he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, but Gator doesn’t let him get in a word. Crowding in front of his space, he’s in your airspace now, reaching down to find your date’s drink, lips wrapping at the bottle’s end as he sips and lets out a snort. “Lightweight.”

“Gator…” You warn, reaching out to attempt to grab his wrist. He shrugs you off, shaking his head as he eyes your ensemble, those fucking tits pressed together and spilling over your cleavage’s hem.

“Look at you, honey. All dressed up, not answering your phone. How long you been back for?”

“I’m busy, back the fuck off —“ He’s suddenly very close to you now, nose nearly brushing, actually letting his personal rules slip, your own emotions becoming discombobulated.

You don’t back away, breathing escalating as his hot breath fans along your painted mouth. He’d like to shut that up, keep you full. And you, you cannot keep your eyes off of his tight black shirt, arms bare and tan from the Midwest summer sun — freckles and moles on display. He’s wearing dark jeans, his normal boots, and thigh holster for show. Fuck, he smells good. He knows it too, as he watches your eyes dart across his wet lips.

He simply smirks, reaches down for your drink this time, and brings it to his lips. Straight whiskey. You were here for a purpose, and it’s up to him to redirect it. You watch in wondrous fascination when he drinks down your remaining liquor in a straight shot, his tongue making a show to lick the rim along the glass, before he lets it settle back onto the cheap bar table coaster. He’s taking that air about, every single inch of him away from you before you can blink, one hand rubbing behind his neck, pulling on his chain that’s tucked beneath his collar, knowing the action specifically drives you crazy, the other hand retrieving his vape.

He blows smoke directly above his head, looking between you and Mr. Clueless Cowboy, laughing lightly. He’s pissing you off. “Hope you folks intend to call a car tonight. I’d hate to have to arrest anyone for driving under the influence.”

And he’s gone. Leaving you practically smoking, aching, hurt, and severely pissed. You grab your purse and excuse yourself to the restroom to get your bearings. You should’ve known, however, the second that the door closes behind you — Gator would be too. He doesn’t approach too fast, doesn’t scare you or grab you, he has his own lines not to cross, to respect.

You’re clenching the sink by the time he’s nearly behind you. You’re tired, pent up, but you still manage to speak. “Don’t. I’m getting sick of you and your games.”

“Is that why you didn’t answer me? Think that’s polite —“

You spin around and level your palms to his chest, shoving him back, hard. “You know, I’m the one that should be embarrassed. Your fucking dad, you being his lackey. I should be the one to be afraid to be seen with you, but I’m not.”

Gator perks at the mention of Roy, of his debt towards him just by being born under his namesake. He feels cornered, losing control. “Watch your mouth. I’m not afraid of anything —“

As if you are ignoring his words, you continue. “I want a real man, not some pussy who is afraid to be seen in public with me. You’re a fucking coward, Tillman. You don’t deserve one single inch of me, and I’ve got plenty to go around, baby.”

Now, Gator can lie and say he is further pissed, that he intends to leave and forget you. But your words, how you stand up to him — his cock kicks, slacks becoming less loose. You’ve got the power and you’re more than ready to use it. Leaving your purse in the sink behind you, you stand a few inches from his airspace, your perfume soaking into his senses, making his jaw unhinged with sinful babble. “I bet you’re fuckin’ wet right now.”

You shrug, crossing your arms to purposely accentuate your chest. “Just because I like looking at you, doesn’t mean that I like listening to your mouth run. Pompous, annoying, disgustingly pathetic. And I can’t stand you.”

His brows press together, his pupils blown so far to hell that he’s seething when the words leave his clenched teeth. “One more word, bitch…”

You lick your mouth and smile lowly, tongue practically caressing the words as they drop off. “Fuck. You.”

What happens next is a dizzying array of blurs. The open pipes and exposed beams - clad ceiling passes in your vision as you meet Gator into a chest crushing embrace, pulling when he pushes, the both of you falling onto a stall with your mouths locked. You’re already working your hands into his belt, a grip hard to maintain with how worked up he is. Gator knows just what to do with you, his own hands immediately ripping the fabric of your dress down to expose your perfect breasts. His mouth waters, his hands paused.

He gives you a look, but you’ve already got his hands closing around your tits, encouraging him to squeeze. His knees knock you into the toilet, his mouth smeared with red kisses. His jaw clenches, nose wrinkles, his eyes glazed over as he lets them roam you, palming you, sampling you. You’re his. He needs more, though, his body rampaged, starved for more you.

You can read those thoughts immediately, the same want, a silent communication. “Put your mouth on me.”

He doesn’t waste a second, head tilting, letting you tug it into shambled strands, his lips close over your bud, tongue lapping around your areola, only to give you what you after you start to beg him for teasing. He isn’t phased that you aren’t jerking him, all that he wants right now is get you off, be with you, be around you. He tries to ignore what that realization means, and luckily, you’re rucking your own dress around your waist, his orbs catching a slinky thong as you work it down your curved hips. He briefly stops what he’s doing, groaning in appreciation as your glistening curls are put on display and your beautiful stomach, with stretch marks that his tongue has traced not enough times yet. He’ll have to fix that.

You’re a little quieter after you’re so naked in front of you, despite having been before. He notices this and abandons his focus on your chest to grab you around the waist. His voice is hoarse, exploding into a molten rasp, coated in the warmth of tension, a vulnerability leaving as he pinches your chin to raise your gaze. “You’re too beautiful for him. Too beautiful for me.”

Your reluctance to accept any compliments, especially his, that is automatically clear when you make your statement. “You could’ve gotten plenty pussy with me gone, Gator.”

He’s never felt more like a piece of shit than in this moment, watching as you truly believe that. He inhales sharply, throat tied to it, escaping words evaporating off his tongue’s tip, shared with you. “I missed you,” It’s actually a freeing statement, one that he feels braver saying, continuing. “And I didn’t screw around on you, y’ know.”

You’re looking at him as if you’re made of glass, irises darting back and forth. He can’t decipher his anticipations, but you save him. “I missed you too. But I had to draw a line, Gator…”

“I know.” He’s resolved to it.

He’s ready to back off, praying it’s not too late. You grasp his wrist, lifting it directly beneath your mouth, and he’s sure he blurts a little in his boxers the moment that your spit settles into his palm. He’s cursing, panting, rocking onto his heels as you lead him between your legs, spreading them, separating two of his fingers, taking them into your warm cunt. His hand tightens on your overflowing waist, fingers instinctively beginning to fuck you, enjoying the devious squelch that echoes. You become more handsy as the minutes pass, eagerly seeking out his chain from his collar to hold onto, rocking against his wrist, bouncing yourself on his fingers — taking what you want.

Gator assists by leaning to lick your nipple into his mouth, letting you hold tightly to his hair, suffocated by your moans and the scent of you. Neither of you hear your date enter the bathroom, not until he’s by the stall and speaking. He doesn’t get the hint, maybe he’ll go away? You don’t want to stop and reject the idea of Gator taking his hand away, leaving his hair, and holding onto his wrist tighter. You give zero fucks if he can hear what you’re doing in here, but he probably thinks Gator makes fun of you —

Your insecurities are tangled into a trap the second that Gator kicks the door open with his boot to give your date an eyeful. Publicly. His eyes widen, posture stiffening, you gasping. Gator adds in a third finger and your legs wobble, making you toss your head back and fuck yourself harder, inner thighs a soaking mess, forgetting everything but the pleasure that you deserve. Your ears are ringing static, a creamy wetness all that can be heard beneath your pleading breaths, uncaring what’s going to happen after, needing to get there NOW.

Gator makes his claim, a lazy little smirk quirking in the corners of his stained mouth. “Be safe on the road, bud.”

[impala-dreamer]

Lumière

A Supernatural Story

~ Dean rises with the sun and takes some time to appreciate the way the light glides over his lover...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

1,657 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Fluffy romance with some oral and fucking ;)

A/N: This was written for my @jacklesversebingo square "Early Morning Sex" Hope you enjoy <3

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Waking up to sunlight was strange. Typically, his bed was deep inside the Bunker with no  windows, or hidden in a cheap motel room behind black-out curtains.

He closed his eyes tighter as the streaks of sun hit his lashes and he sighed at the warmth.

A deep breath. A delicious stretch.

Dean rolled over to find Y/N still asleep; her beautiful face slack, hair disheveled and messy against the crisp white sheet. The pillow was dented beneath her head and her right hand was thrown above like she’d been fighting something deadly before passing out. Even in a fancy hotel, surrounded by comfort, Y/N was still fighting in her sleep.

He’d gotten used to it over the few months that they’d been sharing a bed. Sure, he generally woke up with bruises, and once what felt like a broken rib, but it was worth it to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing and wake up to her raspy sleep-ruined voice.

He didn’t want to hear it just yet, however, so he set himself up on his elbow and leaned over her to get a better look. He wanted to memorize everything about her. Count every strand of hair that curled over her ear, catalog every different line on her face; give a name to every freckle and beauty mark.

Dean smiled softly and lifted his hand to her cheek. With the back of his knuckles, he traced the beam of light on her skin and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. She woke slowly, knowing that she was safe, feeling the warmth of his touch and the loving pulse of his aura as it mixed with hers.

“Mornin’.”

She opened her eyes and smiled, biting her lip shyly as she found him staring down at her.

“Morning.” She cleared her throat. “What’re you doin’?”

He felt her cheeks heat up with a blush and he licked his lips, still staring. “Just watching you.”

“And bein’ creepy.”

She went to swat his hand away, but Dean flipped the script and grabbed her wrist. He pinned it above her head, lightly pressing her hand back into the pillow. She opened her mouth to protest, but he closed his lips around hers, stealing her breath.

“Well, hello, cowboy,” she moaned, looking up at him with wide eyes that still held the glaze of sleep. “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

“Always the right side,” he whispered, nudging her cheek with the tip of his nose, “with you.”

“Such a charmer…”

With a stretch, Y/N wrapped her free hand around the wide breadth of his shoulders and tugged him closer. He crushed her down into the mattress, solid and whole and warm as the sun peeking around the edges of the window.

He licked into her mouth and she clawed lightly at the nape of his neck. The smooth tanned skin there was prickled by tiny hairs- he’d need a haircut soon. She ran her nails up a bit, gave his scalp a gentle scratch which made his kiss deepen. He moaned, deep and gruff, and left her lips to travel across her jaw and down.

He dropped a trail of kisses like breadcrumbs along her collarbone, stopped for a nibble on her pulse. He could feel her heartbeat beneath his lips and the thumb still locked around her wrist and he rolled his hips into hers, wanting to feel it speed up.

A tiny roar rumbled in the back of her throat when his erection pushed against the soft of her belly and her pulse quickened. Dean let out a little laugh and licked away the ghost of a dent that his teeth had made.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” she said with a sigh.

Dean sat up a bit and gave her a billion dollar smile and a slightly double-eyed wink. “I mean… That is the plan.”

Y/N dug her teeth into her bottom lip and Dean grew hungrier as she let it spill back out like a cherry stained pillow.

“Fuck, I want you so bad…”

She set her palm against his shadowed cheek. “You’ve got me, Dean.” With a quick twist, her other hand was free and she snuck it down between their bodies. He gaped as her fingers brushed his cock. “So what are you gonna do with me?”

He hummed darkly. “I’m gonna eat you alive.”

She tongued his lips. “Yeah?”

His mouth hung open for a second and his pupils dilated, eclipsing the brilliant green. “Oh, yeah.”

She slid the circle of her fingers down his shaft. “Like to see you try.”

Dean grinned and gave her a final, sloppy kiss before shifting over her and slinking down her body. He tugged the sheet away and kissed each nipple, spending a few more seconds on the left as was his routine. Y/N laid back, adjusting herself and spreading her thighs in anticipation.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, still awestruck by her beauty in the soft morning light.

Y/N bucked her hips slowly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Winchester.”

He chuckled against her lower belly. “Oh, I am aware.”

Before she could pull in the next breath, Dean was inside of her. He drove his hot tongue into her pussy and nuzzled his nose against her clit. She gasped with budding pleasure as he licked deep into her.

“Goddamn!”

She shuddered and he pulled back an inch, blowing a warm breath up and down her slit.

“You alright up there?” Green eyes sparked with flirtatious deviousness.

Y/N groaned and wiggled her hips. “Get back to work and I will be.”

Dean smacked his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

He pushed into her again, this time with two thick fingers. His nails scratched her lips slightly but it didn’t matter one bit once his mouth sealed around her clit. He swirled his tongue, pushed and sucked, thrust his fingers at a steadily increasing pace. Before long, she was panting and arching her hips off the bed, trying to get him deeper inside.

Sunrise became daylight and the streaks of gold lightened to pale yellow.

Y/N grabbed his rocketfin ears and tugged, trying to set herself free from his unrelenting lips.

“Dean-”

He shook his head, which only gave a new sensation and invoked an intense set of contractions in her cunt. He felt her body tighten and curled his fingers upwards.

“Dean- stop-”

She writhed against the pillow, held her breath, clawed at the sheet below.

“Dean!”

He came up for air, cheeks slick with her wetness, lips plumper than usual. “Huh?” He looked devastated for a moment, like a child who’d dropped his ice cream cone. “No good?”

Y/N shook her head and sat up a bit, looking down at him. “Too good.”

His brows furrowed. “Um-”

She reached for him. “Wanna come on your cock.”

His brow smoothed, his eyes fluttered. “Fuck.”

Sitting up, she grabbed his face and dragging him to her. She kissed his lips as she scooted closer, spreading herself as wide as she could.

Dean growled like an animal and tipped her back. He grabbed at her legs and fit himself between, resting her knees aside his trim waist.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

The light danced across her face as she squirmed, needing him inside. “Please…”

He reached a hand between them and tapped his cock against her clit. She bit back a shriek of pleasure and whined.

“Please!”

He smirked and dragged the tip through her slit, teasing but not giving her enough.

“Dean… God, please!”

It was taking all of his will not to slam into her, but he wanted the moment to last. He wanted to watch her face change from frustration to bliss as he pushed inside.

“Baby,” she whispered desperately, “please fuck me… I need you so bad…”

Rocking his hips, Dean nudged the tip of his cock at her dripping hole, bobbing in and out for a few pulses. When her features had twisted into utter pained frustration, he showed mercy and jabbed his cock into her. She sucked in a deep breath and melted, mind and body, to his touch.

“There’s my girl,” he sang, slowly pulling out and slamming back in. He ratcheted up the pace, holding his breath as her tightness hugged every bit of his length. “Fuck, baby…”

Y/N locked her hands around his biceps, cutting crescents into his arms with her sharp nails. He hissed at the feeling and thrust a little harder. She grunted in time with him and as the orgasm bloomed, her voice grew higher and higher.

“Give it to me,” he urged, staring deep into her eyes. The light was shining fully over her face now and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Come on, baby. Come with me.”

Another thrust and Dean lost it, shooting into her as the pleasure broke. He arched his back and curled inward, his jaw slack and his eyes mere slits.

Y/N felt the pressure as he emptied into her and she came soon after, milking the rest of his energy out with her powerful convulsions.

“Holy fuck, babe!”

She rolled onto her side, close to panting when he finally pulled away. Dean collapsed onto her pillow. Somehow, they’d switched sides during the malay, but neither gave a damn.

Y/N laid her hand on his chest and watched him come down. He closed his eyes and she marveled at the spray of thick lashes illuminated by the sunshine. The light tripped over a hundred freckles on his nose, on every tiny crease by his eyes, on each perfect imperfection.

He was beautiful.

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek and Dean turned into it, catching her lips.

“Good morning,” he said again, smiling gently, sated and exhausted.

Y/N laughed softly and snuggled into his side. “Sure fucking is.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @rosecentury @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05   

[anna-proxx]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 (pt. 1)

pairing: low honor arthur morgan x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, violence

word count: 3066

description: you were captured by the van der linde gang for being colm's sister, in hopes you'd be useful. you have to deal with a big bad cowboy who isn't inclined to letting you go.

a/n: another part in progress!

The tree's rough bark kept pushing into your back as the rope remained tied around your body and the trunk, making you an inseparable pair for the time being.

You were agitated with the way your muscles ached and would kill for a short stretch. The sun was setting and shining brightly in your eyes, blinding your vision. You would admire such a sight normally, but now it made your head hurt and the heat made strings of sweat trickle down your skin.

All that was entirely pointless. Whatever this gang was, holding you captured would do no good for them. You were Colm's half-sister, no point in denying that – but you had nothing to do with him or the O'Driscolls.

This was simply stupid. They kept you here hungry and uncomfortable like a prize, as if Colm ever cared for you enough to be useful for them.

Your gaze shot towards the camp as you noticed someone coming your way. A big cowboy dressed in black, his hands placed leisurely on his gun belt as he walked towards you slowly but with a confident stride.

You slightly squinted your eyes, following him with your gaze with anything but a friendly expression.

He was there, when you were captured, and he was the one to tie you up and throw you onto the horse so crudely.

He stopped to stand right before you, a cocky smile on his face as he towered you, while you sat on the ground. Despite having to look up at him, your eyes were full of anger and protest, refusing to be submissive.

He took his time with informing you why he was there, clearly enjoying the power difference as he calmly pulled out a cigarette and held it in his fingers with his intense stare fixated on you, then flicked it alight and smoked in a relaxed manner.

"So..." he finally spoke, his voice low and deep, "ya gon’ tell me som'thing useful? We might not be killin' ya then."

You gave him a hateful look. What a jerk.

"I know nothing. Haven't seen Colm for ages," you said truthfully, your tone not concealing your irritation though.

He tapped on his cigarette as he continued to study you, clearly not believing what you said.

He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"I'd speak if I were u, lil rabbit. Don've a ton o'patience."

You sighed in frustration, letting your head hang low. "I. Know. Nothing."

You looked up again, meeting the same hard gaze that still lingered on you.

"And if you think that you can use me to manipulate Colm, I'll have to disappoint you. He doesn't give a shit about me," you added, hoping it would get through the thick skull of his that you were indeed not lying.

He lowly chuckled. "He was surely pissed when we killed his brother."

"Well I ain't his brother."

"Yer his sister."

"Half-sister." And much younger.

You squinted your eyes again, not liking at all how arrogantly he stood in front of you, smoking as if you were at his mercy.

Well, you kind of were, but if you got the freedom, you'd punch the annoying expression off of his face.

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, his other hand remaining on his gun belt as he seemed to think.

"Such a pretty face, what a pity," he muttered, no sign of a single emotion in his tone.

You slightly shivered and your heartbeat sped up. Were they gonna kill you, only for the misfortune of who was the one to conceive you? What a stupid death.

"Please, I'm telling you the truth. I know nothing about Colm and he doesn't care about me. You captured me for nothing."

Your gaze was now soft as you pleaded with your eyes, hoping for at least a little slice of empathy.

Maybe if you had the chance to talk to one of the women you saw in the camp instead of this crude outlaw? You did nothing wrong.

He took his time before taking a step forward and squatting in front of you to be face to face.

The sun was almost entirely hidden behind the horizon now and the shine wasn't so blinding anymore, just a gently lit sky, slowly clouded from east, a threat of a storm in its tail.

"Listen, lil rabbit," he threatened, his blue eyes piercing right through you, "I've been put'n charge of ya and I ain't much big on mercy. 'S not looking very bright for ya and if yer lying... M'not against makin' a lady beg me to kill 'er."

Your feisty side clawed its way out as you stared into this stranger's eyes. Being treated so unfairly despite none of this being your fault.

You were refusing to fold. If you were gonna get killed anyway, at least you'd keep your dignity. Hopefully karma would then get this son of a bitch.

"You bastar–" you said lowly before thinking, but were interrupted by a puff from cigarette blown right in your face. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you turned your head to the side, avoiding the smoke as much as you could.

When you looked back, you saw a cocky grin playing on his lips once again. You considered spitting in his face but decided against it. You were angry but not that suicidal yet.

"Lil rabbit has claws, huh?" He held the cigarette between his fingers now, away from his lips as he continued to smirk, the smoke flowing up the air.

"Why don't you just let me go? I won't tell nothing. Just release me and we can all forget about this," you tried to reason this time, but the annoyance in your voice was still obvious.

He cocked his eyebrow and seemed amused by your attempt. That man most likely had no interest in letting you go that easily.

A thunder echoed in the distance, roaring like an animal warning its prey. You felt a little shiver in your stomach; you wouldn't be left here outside in a storm, right?

The man looked in the direction of the sound shortly before stubbing out his cigarette and throwing it away in the grass, getting up to his feet.

You looked up and saw big black clouds quickly stretching themselves across the sky. The sky was clear just a little while ago, how fast did this come?

The man seemed to be leaving and you panicked, scratching your back against the tree as you tried to move. The rope dug into your abdomen and held you back, keeping you a prisoner.

"Wait!" you shouted and were met with a curious gaze from the outlaw who now stopped in his tracks, waiting for what you had to say.

"Don't let me out in the rain, I'll die of hypothermia."

You were dressed lightly, your arms exposed and the rest of your body clothed in a rather thin material. Sitting in a pool of rain, drenched through and through would do you no good.

The cowboy chuckled. What was so amusing?

"We ain't a resort, lady."

"Fuck you." The words left your mouth before you could consider them. You always had a big mouth, except now it could get you killed.

You froze as you realized what you'd just said, watching intently his every move.

He scratched his chin as if thinking, then walked back over to you, lowering to your level again. You noticed he smelled of tobacco, brandy and gunpowder. It tickled in your nose at such close proximity.

"Yer gon' keep your mouth shut and do what I say, u understand?" he threatened with a rough tone, a warning in his eyes.

You kept quiet and nodded, a small hope rising within you.

The rain started drumming around you as the clouds tore, the raindrops large and cold, gliding down your skin like tears.

The man hadn't moved, instead continued staring at you one moment more, his face shielded from the rain by his gambler hat.

Finally he drew out a knife from his belt and with one swing cut the rope. You felt relief around your waist and abdomen as the pressure was suddenly gone; the first thing you did was move from the tree trunk and roll your neck, quietly sighing in relief.

You were getting progressively wetter as the rain now came down mercilessly, hitting everything in its way. The last sun rays were hidden behind the ominous clouds, concealing everything below in their shadow. You found yourself almost in darkness, but could still make out the outlines of your surroundings and features of the man as well.

You sat on the wet grass with only your feet and hands tied together. He freed your legs but left your wrists as they were, then grabbed your forearm and roughly pulled you up, making you almost fall as fast as you got up.

Your head spun shortly and it took you a second to realize what was happening. Your legs were sore as well, so you tried your best to put one foot before the other, stumbling a few times as he strode through the camp with his hand around your arm, jerking you forward anytime you fell behind.

You didn't dare to say anything and only prayed he wouldn't harm you. He was much taller than you and bigger as well and though you knew how to defend yourself, there was no way of breaking free from this guy, at least not without any weapons.

You both were already drenched by the time you made it to his tent. He opened its flaps with one hand and dragged you inside, soft lamp light lighting up the space.

At least you were sheltered from the rain now, which was much appreciated.

But you were still in danger and you realized that very well.

You stood in the middle, following the man with your eyes. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at you, his face grim.

"Don' do anythin' stupid, unless you want a bullet in yer head."

His stern tone made the warning believable.

I thought you'd make me beg for death, you thought, but held your tongue. It wasn't a smart thing to say when staring into the insides of his gun’s barrel.

"Okay," you simply replied, keeping your tone neutral.

You held eye contact, waiting for whatever happens next while he appeared to analyze you. He probably wouldn't kill you just because, he seemed to be cruel but not mad.

"Sit 'ere," he then commanded, gesturing towards a chair with his gun.

You listened and sat without a word, just hoping not to get kicked out outside where, in the meantime, the storm unleashed all its might, creating a perfect nightmare setting.

Your capturer sat on the bed and put his gun aside, his gaze not leaving you.

"If yer smart, ya won't cause any trouble." He paused for a moment. "Are ya smart?"

"If I am, will you let me go?"

He chuckled. "And escort ya to the sheriff while I'm at it."

You leaned against the chair properly, relaxing your muscles while your wrists kept rubbing against the rope still.

"I already told you. I'll only be a burden and inconvenience if you keep me here, I've got no worth for you."

"We'll see."

"What? Why? What are you gonna do with me?" You straightened your back and leaned forward.

"Yer asking too many questions, lil rabbit." He got up and walked towards you.

You watched his every move intently with a subdued breath, your senses barely registering the thunder outside.

He put his hands on each of the chair's arm rests and leaned in so close you instinctively pushed yourself against the back of the chair, keeping as much distance as you could. You still held eye contact though, not wanting to satisfy his intimidation.

"What a pretty house we'd found ya in, you livin' alone, huh?" It wasn't a question as much as a statement – they had paid you an unexpected visit after all, clearly expecting you to be alone.

The smell of cigarettes and alcohol hit your nose again with every breath you took. It made you slightly dizzy.

"Yes," you replied dryly as you realized he was waiting for your response. You uncomfortably shifted under his piercing blue gaze. In other circumstances you'd find his eyes pretty, but that wasn't important now.

You could basically spot every blemish on his face and you felt more awkward every passing moment. Still you watched him as he watched you. A raindrop fell down from the rim of his hat onto the bare skin of your arm; you slightly flinched.

"The spot in the wooden floor under yer bed was a real smart idea," he spoke slowly, watching the wheels in your head turn, "Yer unfortunate y'weren't the only one to hav' it."

His voice rumbled deep from his chest, a hint of mockery in it.

The corner of his mouth twitched at the first signs of shock on your face, savoring your expression.

You indeed were shocked, frozen for at least a few moments, before anger spread out in you like a wildfire.

These fuckers not only kidnapped you, for all false reasons, but also robbed you. Took all the money you had been saving for years.

Was this some sick kind of karma for your old life? A joke of a punishment from God? You didn't know whether you should cry, curse or laugh. You squinted your eyes instead.

"You..." a low growl escaped your mouth but you struggled to find a fitting word to follow.

"Arthur," the man finished your sentence, grinning over your angered face.

His somewhat relaxed and mocking attitude made you loosen up your tongue a little.

"If my hands weren't tied, I'd claw your pretty eyes out," you muttered, a light sarcastic smile flashing on your lips.

You half-expected a slap or any other physical punishment but there was none. Just a raised eyebrow and more amusement.

"Yer a real feisty one, O'Driscoll girl."

"I ain't O'Driscoll! It's not even my name!"

It was true, you kept your mother's last name, you didn't want to have anything to do with the O’Driscolls.

Of course, Arthur only said that to irritate you, and it worked.

Arthur straightened his back and took a step back, finally giving you space to breathe.

"Yer entertain' fo'sure. But that big mouth of yers might get ya killed eventually."

He sat on his bed again but this time made himself more comfortable, resting in half lying position, arms propped behind his head and one leg hanging from the side.

"Your lack of understanding for personal space might," you mumbled in response, loosely sitting on the chair in resignation.

Another deep chuckle.

"Careful."

For a while there were only sounds of the raging storm, giving you time to think.

Technically, you could carry out a very lame attempt to escape, but to be fair, you didn't really want to. Not when there was an apocalypse happening behind the canvas.

Arthur must've known that too, given his relaxed supervision over you and his gun lying beside him as if you couldn't surprise him and snatch it away. Not like you could do much with it, he'd probably knock it out of your hand before your fingers could find the trigger.

Another loud thunder and more raining. In other conditions you might even find the ambience relaxing. It did make you feel a bit more sleepy. Especially when there was no more interaction now. Just a silent eye contact as the cowboy seemed to be deep in thought.

Then a daring thought crossed your mind and you bit your lip as you considered it. Despite his cruel handling and cold character, he didn't seem like he'd want to kill or hurt you. At least not now. He already had plenty of reasons to hit you but he didn't.

And if they still had plans with you, they wouldn't risk getting you killed, right? To put all the effort into nothing.

After all, you heard him being ordered to tie you up when they kicked your door down, so he wasn't the one in charge.

Maybe, just maybe, if you were annoying enough, he'd get so fed up that you'd eventually be released, instead of being kept around like a pig for slaughter.

You cleared your throat, getting back the outlaw's attention. "So… Arthur. And last name?" You paused for a moment, keeping your tone dry as you spoke. "Does it have anything to do with you being an asshole?"

You smiled sweetly, still angry about all the things he had done that annoyed you. He really was quite a pain in the ass. And you hoped to reciprocate the feeling.

"Ya should really go t'sleep instead, tiredness makes ya suicidal."

"I'm still drenched by the rain," you complained, not breaking the eye contact.

"Ya want me to change yer clothes?" He started getting up jokingly; your eyes widened.

"No!" You stopped him in the middle of his movement, making him grin and return to his former position.

"Yer lucky I'm in a patient mood t'day, ya know," he said, slightly furrowing his brow as he recalled something. "Knew this fella, forgot his name. He could've been fine. But, ya see," he told his story in a slow dramatic tone that could be interpreted as another threat, "he wouldn't shut his mouth. Could've been quiet but he preferred a bullet in his face instead."

Another warning?

"All you've done has been threatening me so far," you mumbled in response but froze as soon as you realized what you said. This might've been over the line, a little too teasing for your own good.

You immediately searched for his facial expression but hardly, considering it was partly covered by his hat and the oil lamp has been doing a frail job lighting up his face.

"So what, y'want me to hurt ya? 'S that your thing?" he replied, his voice laced with annoyance this time.

"No," you said clearly but your voice betrayed you with its shakiness. You still sat there with rope biting into your skin as it tightly kept your hands together.

You sighed; frankly, every moment drained your energy and you didn't have much left of it.

Your thoughts were becoming more muted and mushed every second of silence but you tried keeping yourself awake as long as you could.

However, your body demanded sleep.

Arthur had nothing else to say and only watched you idly, letting you slowly lose your consciousness.

God, you were really tired. So tired you even stopped minding the wet clothes clinging to your skin or the raindrops dropping from your hair.

The storm continued to rumble on, but you were slowly losing the sense of it as you drifted off.

With your wrists scraped, sitting on an entirely uncomfortable hard wooden chair that was already making your back hurt, the reality was slowly being replaced by strange chain of visions from your subconscious mind.

[angegiarratanawriter]

TNTL Horny Addition

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3371

Summary: During an episode of Try Not To Laugh, you break Angela in an unconventional way

Being on the Try Not To Laugh stage has always been surreal for you. Having grown up watching the original episodes that were posted few and far between, it’s been so cool getting to see the show grow and gain its own cult following. It’s honestly one of the reasons that you had decided to audition for Smosh in the first place, and now, getting to be on that stage is one of the coolest things in the world.

This week on TNTL, you’re getting to work with Chanse, Amanda, Courtney, Tommy, and Angela. It’s a great line up, one that you know is going to be a hit once it goes up, if only because the chemistry between Angela and Chanse always makes for a killer video. It also helps that this episode is Simon Says, a clear fan favorite.

As the crew gets everything set up on stage, you pull out your phone and go into your notes app, pulling up the list of bits that you’ve jotted down over the past couple of months. As you’re scrolling, you find one that you’ve been workshopping for Angela. It’s a little bit hardcore, but you think that at this point your relationship is secure enough where you won’t get into too much trouble if you do it. You just hope you get the chance.

Emily calls the cast together to start shooting the intro, so you slip your phone into your pocket with a little smirk. You walk over and take your spot beside Angela, who immediately notices the smile tugging at your lips. She quirks an eyebrow at you in question, but you just shake your head and mouth ‘you’ll see’. Before she can say anything in protest, Courtney starts the into.

“Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another episode of Try Not To Laugh. This week we’re doing Simon Says, so the person in the chair gets to choose a theme or prop that everyone has to use. You know the rest of the drill, try to make each other laugh, spit out the water, blah blah blah. So, who wants to go first?”

“Ooh, I will!” Amanda says eagerly. “I want all of your bits to be set in a Western.”

“Nice,” Chanse says, doing a little fist pump.

While Amanda takes her seat in the stool, everybody heads to the prop area to start prepping their bits. Tommy and Chanse go out first and do their “Gay Cowboys” bit, which looks suspiciously like a recreated scene from Brokeback Mountain. Courtney goes next, wearing a tiny cowboy hat that immediately gets the laugh. As everyone takes their turn, you figure out what you want to do.

“Hey Ange, can I borrow your shirt?” you ask.

“Sure.”

Angela shucks off the white button down that she has on, leaving her in a form fitting black tank top. You take a minute to appreciate her arms before remembering that you have a job to do. You shed your own shirt and put hers on, only doing up the bottom two buttons so that your torso is left completely exposed. You then grab the fluffy pink cowboy hat off of the shelf and grab Courtney to help you.

As soon as you walk on stage, Amanda’s eyes go wide as she looks at your outfit. She pauses slightly on your torso, and you can’t tell if it’s because she recognizes Angela’s shirt or because she’s staring at your stomach. You take a quick glance back over your shoulder, before turning back to Courtney and starting your bit.

“Well, that was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” you say with a fake southern accent.

“I’ll say,” Courtney agrees, matching your tone. “I just don’t understand one thing-”

“It’s better you don’t try to. Things like this are better left to rest.”

“But-”

“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.”

Amanda smacks her hand on her thigh at the reference and turns to the side, spitting the water out before breaking out into legitimate laughter. You’re honestly surprised that this bit was such a success, as it honestly wasn’t your strongest idea out of the gate. Shrugging, you start to walk back towards the prop area but Amanda’s voice stops you.

“Wait, I wanna know what happened!”

“Uh…strippers in a motel?”

“What?” Amanda says, still laughing. “That has nothing to do with the movie.”

“I know,” you say, winking.

Without explaining any further, you turn around and walk back stage, letting Chanse take the floor. You walk slowly over to the monitor, taking the cowboy hat off and placing it back on the shelf on the way by as you watch his bit. As you pull off the button down shirt that you’d borrowed, you feel eyes on boring into your back.

You look over your shoulder to find Angela staring at you, her eyes dark and her lips slightly parted. A little smirk tugs at your lips, and it takes every ounce of self control that you have to refrain from teasing her. Under normal circumstances, you would, but nobody actually knows that you’re dating and there’s a camera on the prop area. Instead you settle for shooting her a wink that won’t be caught before grabbing your own shirt and pulling it on.

“Here,” you say softly, handing over the button down.

“Thanks,” she says, swallowing hard.

“No problem.”

When Amanda’s turn in the chair is done, Chanse takes her place and chooses to make everyone use the little toy chainsaw. Courtney ends up going classic with a Boneless bit, Tommy pretends to cut down a tree that falls on you, Angela chases Amanda around with it, and then they reverse for Amanda’s turn. When it gets to be your turn, you go out with no plan, and end up doing a hilariously bad monologue. It doesn’t get the laugh, but Chanse gives you a nod on your way off the stage.

Courtney’s turn is all about things going wrong on planes, so you trail out an allergic reaction bit where you use a massive sword as an epi pen. Tommy does a safety monologue while mimicking turbulence, Chanse and Angela do a two part bit that is similar to the flight simulator video that they did a while ago, and Amanda puts on a terrible wig and pretends to be the worst flight attendant ever.

Once Courtney’s turn is done, it’s Angela’s turn to take the stool. This is what you’ve been waiting for, and you can only hope that she ends up choosing something that will work with what you have planned. It takes her a minute to finally come up with a rule, but when she does, you do a little silent celebration with yourself.

“Alright, it’s opposite day, folks,” Angela says. “Do with that what you want.”

Smirking to yourself, you walk back to the prop area to get ready for your bit. You spend a minute reversing some things in your head before you get the go ahead from Emily. As you step out onto the stage, Angela looks up, and surprise colors her features. You can only assume it’s because you didn’t bring any props with you, but you know you won’t need any. A sly smirk tugs at your mouth as you stop behind her, leaning in so that your lips almost brush her ear.

“I know that you’re used to being the top in this relationship, but there are a few things that I want to do to you when we get home,” you whisper, your voice low enough that it won’t be picked up by the mics. “First, I’m going to fuck you against our front door, and then, after you’ve come at least twice, I’m going to carry you to our bedroom and handcuff you to the bed posts. From there, you have two options. I can go down on you until my jaw is sore or I can put the strap on and fuck you until you can’t feel your legs.”

The whole time you’ve been whispering in Angela’s ear, you’ve watched a deep blush start to creep up the back of her neck. You can tell she’s trying so hard to hold it together, but as you give her the options, she chokes on the water in her mouth and ends up coughing it out. Her head whips around to look at you, her dark eyes trailing a path down your body before coming back up and locking you into a staring match.

“Remember,” you say, a little bit louder so that the mics can catch it. “It’s opposite day.”

With a little wink, you turn around and walk back to the prop area, letting Amanda take your place on the stage. Throughout the rest of her time in the stool, Angela looks incredibly distracted. She hardly laughs at anyone else’s bit, only coming close when Chanse comes out in almost full drag.

“Girl, what did you say to her?” Amanda asks as she adjusts her wig.

“Something that’s probably going to get me in huge trouble,” you murmur.

As Angela’s turn ends, you head back out to get the rule for Tommy’s turn. He ends up choosing ‘the worst pick up lines’. Chanse rolls out the classic Tennessee one, while Amanda says something about eating dessert before dinner. Courtney goes insane with a line about looking for a third, while Angela goes so dirty that you’re sure that her entire line is going to end up getting bleeped. As you step out onto the stage for your turn, you decide to go classic as well.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” you say, stopping center stage and batting your eyelashes at Tommy. “I really, really wanna fuck you.”

“Oh shit,” Chanse says from the back, cackling at the wide eyed look on Tommy’s face. “Do another, do another.”

“Violets are blue, roses are thorny, you make me very, very horny.”

That does it, and Tommy spits out the water he’d been holding in his mouth before starting to laugh so hard that he almost falls out of his chair. The crew is cracking up too, and you can see Emily exchanging a look with Shayne off camera. You think you hear something about Courtney having used that line on him when they first started dating, but before you can address it, you’re being ushered to sit in the stool.

“Okay, uhm, I’m gonna go with ‘weirdest things you can get delivered’.”

Amanda ends up going first, getting you with her classic PUS uniform and a tiny toilet that makes a flushing noise. Tommy goes next, coming in with Chanse dressed in a tiger suit and on a leash. Courtney brings out a box of vaguely phallic items, and then Tommy brings in the ripped scroll pretending that its the Declaration of Independence. Finally, it’s Angela’s turn, and you’re honestly a little nervous. She struts out in an FBI jacket and a pair of sunglasses, a pair of handcuffs in her hand.

“You’re under arrest for stealing hearts,” Angela declares.

“Awww, that’s adorable,” Courtney coos from backstage.

“No, it’s not. She’s literally stealing hearts and selling them on the black market. It’s about time that justice is delivered.”

The tiniest little inhale is all it takes to make your life a living hell, as you feel water get pulled down into your lungs. A cough threatens to burst from your throat, but you manage to force your mouth to stay closed, and no water comes out. When you regain control, you stand up and turn around, presenting your hands behind your back. Angela takes them and slaps the cuffs on with practiced ease before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“You like this, don’t you? Well don’t you worry, you’re gonna get everything that you asked for.”

—

True to her word, the first thing that Angela does when you walk through the front door is pin you against it. A harsh moan slips from your mouth as she pushes a leg in between yours, but it’s swallowed when she connects your lips in a heated kiss. You feel hands move up to your hips, and your breath stutters out when they force you down onto a hard thigh. The movement creates delicious friction, and you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a chase.

As Angela works your hips in a steady rhythm, she starts to kiss down your jaw. As she gets to your neck, you feel her suck gently, hard enough that you can feel it but soft enough that it won’t leave a hickey. Your hips jerk at the sensation, and you suddenly feel an overwhelming need to have her mark you anywhere, everywhere, so you grab the back of her head and pull her in closer.

“Fuck, harder,” you stutter out.

“Is that permission?” Angela asks.

“God yes.”

You feel Angela smirk against your neck before she sucks a patch of your skin into her mouth and lavishes it with her tongue. A harsh moan falls from your lips as she pulls your hips down harder against her leg, and you start to feel the tell tale signs of your high. A rush of warmth spirals down your spine, and your lower stomach starts winding tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.

“Fuck!” you moan, tossing your head back against the door.

The white behind your eyelids blinds you, and you find yourself reaching out for something to hold you steady. Through it all, you feel Angela pressing soft kisses into your neck as she slowly starts to bring you back down. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you find her already looking at you with an adoring expression on her face.

“So pretty,” Angela murmurs, tracing a finger down your cheek. “I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

“Then don’t,” you pant out.

Angela doesn’t waste a second, shifting her hands down your body and positioning them on the backs of your legs before scooping you up. It takes longer than it should to reach the bedroom, with both of you getting distracted by the smallest kiss or touch. When you finally make it, she places you gently down onto the edge of the bed and takes a step back, looking at you with hungry eyes.

“Get undressed,” Angela orders. “Now.”

You immediately scramble into a sitting position, pulling your shirt above your head before unclipping your bra and tossing them both to the side. As you work on getting your sneakers off, you watch Angela start to get undressed too. It takes her less time, and soon she’s walking over to her side table butt naked while you work overtime to get your skinny jeans down your legs.

By the time you manage to pull your panties off, Angela has already gotten everything prepped. There’s a pair of handcuffs threaded through the bars of the headboard, and she’s wearing your favorite strap. You can tell by the way that it’s glistening that she’s already put some lube on it, and that’s confirmed when you look up to see her wiping the stickiness from her hands with a tissue.

“Get up here,” Angela orders, nodding to the head of the bed. “On your back, legs spread, hands above your head.”

Not wanting to waste a second, you crawl up the bed and lay back against the pillows. It takes you a minute to get comfortable, but when you do, you obey the rest of Angela’s orders and put your hands above your head while parting your legs for her. Once you’re in position, she climbs on top of you and reaches up, snapping the cuffs tightly around your wrists.

“Pull,” Angela orders, so you do. “Comfortable?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“Good. If you want to stop at any time-”

“Just tell you. I know, baby.”

“Okay,” Angela says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Are you ready?”

“So ready.”

With a nod, Angela turns her attention downwards and brushes the strap over your clit a few times. The action sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. She looks up at you one last time, and when you nod, she lines up with your entrance and starts to push in slowly. As she bottoms out, you’re taken a bit by surprise as a wave of heat rolls down your spine.

“Fuck, this isn’t gonna take long,” you mutter, blushing.

“Already, baby?” Angela teases.

Instead of dignifying her with an answer, you grit your teeth and and curl your fingers around the headboard, getting ready to hang on for dear life. You give a brief little nod, and then Angela is moving, setting a slow and steady pace that feels so fucking good but leaves you aching for more. Still, you had been close when you started and that hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s worse now, with Angela looking down at you, her lips parted, and the strap hitting just the right spot.

“Fuck,” you moan, your hands pulling at the cuffs. “Fuck, baby, I-”

“I know,” Angela says softly, her hips speeding up. “Take what you need.”

The pleasure spills over, and you feel yourself being thrown in to a mind blowing orgasm. Your entire body shudders as shock waves roll through you, bringing you up as high as you’ve ever been. As the pleasure starts to fade back to baseline, you tilt your head back against the pillows to try to force some air into your lungs. This opens up an opportunity for Angela to attach her lips to your neck again, and she takes it.

As your girlfriend sucks another mark into your collarbone, she starts to speed her hips up. The tip of the strap is hitting your g-spot on every stroke, and you can tell that it won’t be long until you reach another high. Not long ends up being sooner than expected, and your orgasm surprises you when Angela bites down hard on your neck. The comedown is a little bit rough this time, and you can feel the oversensitivity start to set in.

“Baby, I need you to come,” you say, your breath stuttering. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Angela asks, looking up in concern.

“God no. But I only have one more left in me.”

“I can work with that.”

Angela speeds up her hips until she’s practically slamming into you, the force of her thrusts causing the headboard to smack against the wall. The sound is obnoxious and sure to piss off your neighbors, but you can’t bring yourself to care when your girlfriend is making you feel this good. You feel her hips start to stutter, and you know that she’s close, so you do everything you can to help her along, rutting your hips up into her to increase the friction.

“Fuck, I’m there,” Angela moans. “Come with me.”

Never one to disobey an order, you feel your stomach tighten before a spark of pleasure steamrolls through your body. You gasp for air, trying and failing to get any in. It takes you a long time to come down, long enough that Angela is looking at you with a cute little pout on her face when you do finally open your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you says, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your girlfriend’s lips. “Just a little over stimmed.”

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“Please.”

With an adorable little nod, Angela carefully separates your bodies. Once she’s pulled completely put of you, she grabs the keys to the handcuffs and unlocks them before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. She returns a minute later with a warm wash cloth and no strap in sight. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as she starts to wipe the wetness from your thighs, and you sigh softly.

“I love you,” you murmur.

“And I love you,” Angela replies, looking up with a smile. “Now get up and go pee, you don’t want to get a UTI.”

[aothotties]

Country Boy!Jean x Reader

Word Count: 1199

Warnings: MDNI, Swearing, pet names, Car sex (kinda), Cunnilingus (F. Receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, creampie.

Notes: y’all Rachel did her mf thing with this one. I also had to re-upload it, because tumblr hid it.

_____

One thing you absolutely loved was a country boy. The southern drawl, jeans with the cowboy boots, you loved it all

That's how Jean got you tangled in his web. He approached you at a fair while you were with your friends and you've been hooked ever since.

One night Jean asked you to join him at a rodeo. You were hesitant to go at first but after some smooth talking he was eventually able to convince you to go.

You put on your best rodeo outfit and waited for him to come pick you up

Jean held your hand as you walked through the crowd of people

“You know you’re the prettiest girl out here tonight right?” He said as he looked over to you

“Jean stop” you said as you giggled

He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb and blushed

You enjoyed the night with Jean going from booth to booth getting snacks and drinks and watching bull rides. There was one area where you were able to ride a horse and Jean walked beside you as you rode.

The night ended and Jean walked you to the truck and opened the passenger side door.

“Hope you had a great night pretty lady” he said as he hoped in the drivers side

“Any night with you is a great night” you responded

Jean placed his hand on your thigh and started driving towards your house

As he sped down the road Jean’s hand slid further up your thigh

“You look so good tonight. The prettiest little cowgirl” he said as his hand got closer to your crotch

You squirmed in your seat and your body got hot, you knew exactly what little game he was playing

“You look pretty handsome yourself Mr. cowboy” you responded as you spread your legs to give him access to your cunt

Jean rubbed you lightly through your pants and you grinded onto his hand. You couldn't wait to get home, knowing exactly what was about to happen

As soon as you got through the door he slammed it shut and lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. His lips crashed onto yours and you passionately kissed as he carried you up to your room

“Mm jean – slow down, take your time” you said between kisses

“Can’t, need you now princess” he responded as he laid your body down on the bed

He tore the thin fabric of your small shirt and before you could even protest his lips met yours again. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and intertwined it with yours

As he kissed you he fumbled around with your belt until he was able to unbuckle it. He then slipped off your black jeans, your panties coming down with them

Jean kneeled down, face-to-face with your throbbing cunt

“She's glistening for me darlin’” he said as he ran a finger up and down your wet hole

He lapped at your cunt greedily causing your back to arch off the bed. Your hands found their way to his hair, you didn't care about ruffling his mullet all you could do was whine and moan from the pleasure.

He didnt stop until you were shaking and cuming on his face. Jean slurped up every drop

“Fuck- you taste as good as you look princess” he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand

He began taking his own clothes off and you laid there in anticipation

He grabbed your legs and turned you so you were face down on the bed. He lifted your ass in the air and lined his thick cock up with your soaked hole.

He slid in slowly and you both let out a sigh as he bottomed out

“Fuck jean-” you moaned into the blanket under you

He started moving his hips back and forth fucking you at a steady pace. He was a mess behind you. Grunting and moaning at the feeling of your tight walls around him

“You're sucking me in mama” he moaned

He quickened his pace and his strokes got deeper. He was hitting that sweet spot and you were being pushed closer to the edge

“Just like that papa, feels s’good” you whined

You started matching his energy and began throwing your ass back onto him. The clapping of skin could be heard throughout the house, luckily you lived alone

You gripped the blanket and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you were about to cum for him

“Jean, baby, im cuming” you whined as you approached your orgasm

“Good girl, cum for me baby” he said in response

Your legs shook and you saw white as you came. Jean smirked because he knew nobody else could fuck like this

He picked you up off the bed and lifted you into a full nelson. He bounced your body on his dick, his tip was brushing your cervix.

The feeling was too much, you were drooling and seeing stars

“Papa, too much , i c-can't” you whined

“Awe princess i know you can take it” he said and he continued bouncing you on his dick

“Can’t papa, too much” there were tears running down your face, it was all too much to handle

He giggled at the sight of your fucked out expression

“Ok mama, it’s okay” he said as he put you back down on the bed

You thought you were getting a moment to catch your breath but Jean had other plans

He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders. Your gold anklet with the “J” on it was dangling next to his head

He slid back into you without giving you a moment to adjust. Your hand went to his abdomen to try and get some relief but he was having none of that shit

“Move your hand mama” he said sternly

You did as you were told and let him continue fucking you

Jean was going crazy at this point, fucking you like a mad man. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and you both were moaning loudly

You grew closer and closer to your orgasm and he could feel you spasming around him.

“Fuck- keep squeezing me like that mama and ill fill this pussy up” he said through gritted teeth

“Cum with me papa” you moaned in response

Jean kept going and you both neared your orgasm. Once again your eyes rolled back and his head fell back from the pleasure

You released your orgasm on his dick and squirted on his abdomen as he came inside of you

He slid out and gave you both a second to breathe

“Fuck princess, that was so good” he said but you were too fucked out to speak

He smiled at you and grabbed a wet towel to clean you up

He spent the night at your place and you both watched movies until it was time to sleep

You cuddled up next to him and he placed a kiss on your forehead

“Goodnight papa” you said as you dozed off.

“Goodnight mama” he responded before closing his eyes

Rachel

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Propaganda Under the Cut

Thomas-Alexandre Dumas:

a. “mustache” b. “Tall! Daring! Swashbuckling! A devoted husband and father! Had a personal conflict with Napoleon! Also it was said he could, while holding onto a bar above his head, LIFT A HORSE WITH HIS THIGHS. How is he not on this list ten times already! Vote for General Dumas!” c. “He was so hot that he inspired The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, and many more books that his son, Alexandre Dumas, wrote. He definitely looked the part of a sexyman, as he son recounts in his memoirs: "My father, as already stated, was twenty-four, and as handsome a young fellow as could be found anywhere. His complexion was dark, his eyes of a rich chestnut colour […]. His teeth were white, his lips mobile, his neck well set on his powerful shoulders, and, in spite of his height of five feet nine inches, he had the hands and feet of a woman. These feet were the envy of his mistresses, whose shoes he was very rarely able to put on." He could crush you between his thighs: "His free colonial life had developed his strength and prowess to an extraordinary degree; he was a veritable American horse-lad, a cowboy. His skill with gun or pistol was the envy of St. Georges and Junot. And his muscular strength became a proverb in the army. More than once he amused himself in the riding-school by passing under a beam, and lifting his horse between his legs." He was so badass he could beat 13 men with 4 and take all the enemy prisoner, and defend against hundreds of men on a bridge by himself. He performed these acts of valour numerous times in Italy. He was so formidable that the Austrians named him the "Schwartz Teufel", or the Black Devil, and his feat at the bridge earned him the moniker of "Horatius Cocles of Tyrol". He wasn't afraid to stand up to his morals and protest against unfair treatment. When unjust executions by the guillotine were happening outside his quarters, he closed the blinds of his curtains, earning him the nickname "Mr. Humanity". When in the Vendée, he complained about the wanton indiscipline in his troops. When in Italy, Berthier wrongly reported his actions as one of "observation" in St. Antonio. Dumas wrote to General Bonaparte that if Berthier was in the same position, he would have shit his pants. Dumas abhorred plunder, never exhorted the locals, and ordered the Directory agent who had come to persuade him otherwise be shot if he dared present himself to Dumas again. Integrity and a sense of moral justice is sexy, mark my words. For Dumas' final qualifier as a sexyman, look no further than this Tumblr heritage post (https://www.tumblr.com/petermorwood/133803437020/hortensevanuppity-elodieunderglass), with 300,000 notes and counting. And I quote: "- daddy general dumas was an immense fierce french warrior who was a 6 foot plus, stunningly gorgeous and charismatic Black gentleman - he invaded egypt - the native egyptians said “is this napoleon? this must be napoleon. we for one welcome our majestic new overlord” - then napoleon showed up - napoleon has all the presence of yesterday’s plain Tesco hummus - the native egyptians were like “… no… no, we’ve thought very hard and we’ll have General Dumas actually” - this did not make napoleon happy - in fact it made him jealous - napoleon felt so emasculated that he launched a campaign of revenge against General Dumas, including taking away his pension, that probably inspired a lot of Alexandre’s rather satisfying scenes in which fathers are nobly avenged and the money-grubbing villains are rubbed in the mud" I rest my case. Tl;dr: He was so hot he inspired multiple books, he was a stronk man who could crush you between his thighs or carry you like a sack of potatoes, and he was so badass that he could take on odds of 1 to 3. He had a foul mouth but a heart of gold and his actions were never self-serving. Posts relating to him on Tumblr have had 300,000 notes and counting. He is qualitatively and quantitatively qualified to be a sexyman.”

Jack Aubrey:

a. “Lucky Jack is a UNIT. loves his crew, loves his ship, loves his bf, loves music. JACKED and also pretty hair (his other nickname is Goldilocks). Once played by Russell Crowe”

[rottenpumpkin13]

What do you think is AGGSZC's relationship with chocobos? Would they own one(or more) as pets like if they were dogs or would they just use them for transport? Would they buy accessories or toys for them?

(AAAAAA I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FOLLOW ME I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THE FF CAST SPECIALLY GENESIS 🥹💕)

THANK YOU I LIKE YOUR BLOG TOO 💚

Angeal: Uses his chocobo as transport for sustainability, but it's more than that. He makes sure the chocobo is well-fed, rested, and never overburdened, pampers the chocobo and mothers the heck out of it, treating it like his own kid, makes sure the chocobo feels loved and valued. He goes as far as hosting chocobo play dates with Genesis and his chocobo, which Angeal's chocobo doesn't like because Genesis' chocobo is a spoiled, evil little creature.

Genesis: His chocobo is a pampered showpiece, a great scarlet bird bedecked in expensive accessories, probably named Phoenix, used primarily for racing and winning awards. Genesis loves to brag about Phoenix and all the awards he's won, and how elegant and sophisticated it—"NO, NO, PHOENIX! DO NOT ROLL AROUND IN MUD!"

Cloud: He'd have a great black chocobo, probably named something that alludes to Norse mythology, like 'Gullinkambi,' after one of the three roosters whose crowing is foretold to signify the beginning of the events of Ragnarök. He'd share a deep bond with his chocobo and use it not only for transportation but also for racing. Since they're very good at it, they've won lots of awards.

Zack: His chocobo is as bright and energetic as he is—a tall, golden bird that Zack had to resist naming "Cloud," fearing that the real Cloud might kill him for it. It's a lovable companion that Zack showers with affection and attention. Zack is definitely the type to take his chocobo (probably named something like Thrasher or Ripper despite buying it playful accessories like cowboy hats and sunglasses) everywhere with him. He protests with "What do you mean my buddy can't come in here? He’s just as much a paying customer as everyone else." Zack has tried to disguise his chocobo as a human on more than one occasion.

Sephiroth: He has a beautiful silver chocobo he's named something endearing like "Nova." Shinra has attempted to get him to race it for more propaganda and another revenue stream, but Sephiroth refuses. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate chocobo racing as a sport—he does—but the idea of subjecting Nova to that environment doesn’t sit well with him. He uses his chocobo primarily for transportation, ensuring Nova gets plenty of time outdoors and experiences more of the planet than just the stables at the Shinra HQ.

The times when Sephiroth feels the most free are when he and Nova are alone in the grasslands, where they can roam freely and feel as if they can go anywhere and do anything. But Sephiroth knows Shinra well and understands that whatever he grows too attached to will eventually be taken away. So he makes the difficult decision to let Nova go one day, taking it to a place where it can be with other chocobos and live a happier life than Sephiroth could offer in his confined space.