#but getting the stuff in your mouth in the first place

[tonycries]

Gojo Satoru has practiced being your New Year’s kiss since he was seventeen. Which, honestly other than being damn embarrassing, makes Gojo think he might just be cursed - because something always happens. 

When he fell asleep and missed the strike of midnight the first year, Gojo didn’t think much about it. 

Then the second year, he was fighting a curse - a stupid New Year’s curse, at that. Who the hell is afraid of the New Year? Gojo can think of only one thing he’s afraid of, and that’s his New Year’s resolution to finally confess his feelings for you and oh, okay he kinda gets it.

The fifth he took one (1) shot of vodka and was down for the count (Gojo has sworn off the yucky stuff ever since, they only made his throat burn and his mouth babble about you more than it really should). 

And hm, is he crazy or is he seeing a pattern?

The seventh he can’t even remember, because you’re going through some breakup with some stupid bastard and all Gojo really cares about is taking care of you, and breaking that loser’s face.

But that’s okaaaay - he always has next year, right?

At least, that’s what he tells himself - has always told himself until the year he was twenty-eight. Snickering at those wolf whistles and jeering eyes as he drags you away - and it’s the perfect romantic set-up. Gojo would know, he planned it. 

Right up on the roof with only the stars and you. One hand placed on your beautiful face to lean in close and-

Ah, you two bump foreheads. But it’s the perfect New Year’s kiss at exactly 12:03AM, despite that. It’s not how he imagined it - honestly, he was somewhat conjuring up fantasies about being 90 and still playing this little song and dance of his heart with you. But, that’s okay.

He always has next year. 

[thornypucks]

peppermint mocha | lena oberdorf

synopsis any excuse to get your girlfriend to kiss you was a good one

warnings literally just fluffy fluff

words 1737

notes this was supposed to go up on christmas but then i got sick so you get it on new years instead :) also shoutout to @alphaniner1415 - this is kind of part two <3

It was cold. Way too fucking cold. The hand you had wrapped around your paper coffee cup was at least a little warm from the contents inside, but the one holding onto the mistletoe felt like it was about to fall off at any second. On top of that it had started drizzling a couple of minutes ago, because it was cold but apparently not cold enough for snow, the wind was blowing your hair in every direction and your jacket felt too tight with the big sweater you were wearing underneath. So shortly- you were overstimulated, tired from a long day of work and just really fucking cold.

But in that second you rounded the corner and Lenas apartment came into view, the sight so familiar it made you ache. The past year had been good. Incredible even. Getting to really know Lena, not only as a friend but as a girlfriend had been the best journey you've ever got on. You loved going to her games and hearing her rant about plays and games for hours. You hated when she had to leave for games and tournaments or when she came home, defeated in every sense of the word. You enjoyed the quiet nights in her apartment and the loud ones when her teammates and friends joined. You despised the first argument you had that simply boiled down to you being scared of being too much and Lena wanting as much of you as she could get. You took pleasure in her showing up at the cafe just to spend time with you and have a cappuccino and you almost lost your mind when Lena crumbled on the field after literally budding heads with another player. You were delighted to meet her family and getting to know her parents, sibling, aunts, uncles and most importantly her dog. And above everything else you were so comfortable in this little bubble that Lena had wrapped around the both of you. You had never been so in love nor felt so loved by somebody. Lena wasn't shy of straight up telling you how she felt. Never. But she also showed you. When she took off her scarf to wrap it around you, when she planned a picnic on her balcony because she thought you would like it, when she brought you flowers and when she mapped out your whole body with her hands and her mouth, determined to touch every inch of you.

You felt yourself heat up at the thought as you finally reached the front door. You fumbled with the pocket of your jacket, not wanting to put down the cup, nor the branch in order to get your key out. Lena had given it to you only two months after the first night spent together. It had been quiet but bold, like everything she did. She had just slipped the lonely key over the table during breakfast, a big smile spreading across her face. Your reaction had been a lot less quiet and had included a lot more body contact. You had not officially moved in, but measured by the time you spend in her apartment, you might as well have. But that was a conversation for a different day. You finally managed to get your key out and unlocked the door. You quickly made your way up the stairs - rushed by your plans for tonight and the cold that was still creeping up your fingers. You finally unlocked the second door, moaning at the warm air of the apartment. Around six months of dating you realized that Lena's place had really started to feel like home. More and more of your things had slowly made their way into the apartment. It started mostly with clothes and toiletries, quickly moving to mugs, books, games and literally anything else. Then you started buying stuff for her place. Decor and pans and what else you could think of. Your apartment had turned into more of an office space and you were silently waiting for Lena to ask you to move in. You put down your cup on the shoe cupboard and carefully laid the mistletoe branch on the ground. You could now finally get rid of the too tight jacket, your hat and scarf and finally your shoes, putting everything where it belonged before picking up your cup and the branch again.

The plan had come to you kind of randomly. A week ago you had walked past a little Christmas market booth that was selling mistletoe. The tradition of having to kiss underneath one had always been a little weird to you, but any excuse to get your girlfriend to kiss you and to be a little cheesy was a good one. You'd also purchased some fairy lights, candles and you've brought home some of Lena's favorite foods from the cafe and the Munich Christmas market. So you got to work.

You spread out all the food on the couch table, putting candles in between the plates and in various other places in the apartment. You wrapped fairy lights around one of your windows and the doorway leading into the open living space. That's also where you hang the mistletoe. Your phone chimed just as you were done hanging the branch, lighting up with a message from Lena.

"Just finished training. Gonna be home soon. Love u."

Your face spread into a smile. You finished the rest of your coffee that had gone cold by now and slowly started lighting all the candles. Once you were done with that you plugged in the fairy lights and turned off the rest of the normal lights. The room looked like Christmas had just thrown up in it. It was perfect. But now you didn't really know what to do with yourself. You were too excited to just sit down and wait so you made your way over to the kitchen to clean some pans and other stuff lying around. You tried hard to occupy yourself until you finally heard the key turn in the lock. You very quickly made your way to the doorway, positioning yourself right underneath the mistletoe.

The door opened and Lena stopped in the doorway looking at you surprised and slightly confused. She was cuddled up in her big winter jacket, beanie on her head, big workout bag in her hand and her comfy joggers on. Her mouth was slightly agape, her eyes tracing your body before finally moving up to the mistletoe above you. The confused look on her face quickly changed into a still surprised but happier smirk. "Hello to you too." She smiled and finally stepped in, closing the door behind her. "Hi my love." You just grinned back waiting more or less patiently for her to take off her jacket and put down her bag. You were rocking back and forth on your feet, watching her every move.

She had finally put her shoes away and took a couple of steps towards you before stopping right in front of you, her face spreading in fake surprise. "Oh would you look at that." Her right pointer finger came up to your chin, gently pushing it upwards so you could look at the mistletoe. "A mistletoe, what a lovely coincidence." Your own smile spread as well and you moved your eyes from the greenery back to her. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief and you soaked up every second of it. So far you had loved all the versions you had seen of Lena. But her silly and teasing side was definitely in your top five. "Oh no." She now almost whispered dramatically, her face coming even closer to yours until she could gently nudge your nose with hers. "Guess I have to kiss you now." You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you before she pressed her mouth onto yours. You hummed, satisfied, into the kiss, enjoying the warm press of her lips on yours. She licked your lips, gently coaxing you to open your mouth. You buried your hands in her sweater around her hips while hers went up to cradle your chin, her thumb drawing small circles into your jaw.

She gently broke the kiss, still holding you close. "We should leave the mistletoe here I think." You said after you managed to catch your breath. "Lena just smiled and nodded before she started smacking her lips. "You taste good. What is that?" You giggled and pressed another short peck onto her lips. "Peppermint mocha. I ordered some new syrups and they came in the mail today." You barely had time to catch the mischievous glint in Lena's eyes before she suddenly tipped you back, making you squeak and clawing your hands deeper into her sweater. She had moved one hand to your back and the other to the back of your head holding you almost horizontal. She pressed her mouth back onto yours, her tongue finding yours immediately. You couldn't help but giggle into her mouth as she slowly pulled you back up again. You separated, just smiling at each other for a minute. Lena removed the hand from the back of your head and gently pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you for the surprise babe." She smiled. "Mhm well that's not all of it." You smiled back, taking a couple of steps back and taking her with you. You watched Lena's face as she took in the room. Her eyes wandered from the candles to the fairy lights and then to the food before making their way back to you. "Oh baby that's beautiful." Her arms now wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush to hers before burying her head in the crook of your neck pressing a kiss into the soft skin. "Thank you my love." You just hummed in acknowledgement while also wrapping your arms tighter around her waist. You stayed like this for a while before Lena raised her head again and captured your lips in another slow but intense kiss. The world tuned out around you and the only thing left was Lena.

"You really do taste good." Lena pressed yet another kiss onto your lips, stealing your breath. "You're gonna have to make me one of those peppermint mochas soon my love."

[rabotimagines]

"Pet names" GN! Bot Reader + Optimus, Jazz, Ironhide, the Lambo twins

Summary: Reader has become partial to using human pet names for everyone.

Warnings: none.

Genre/Theme: Platonic/with hints of crush

G1 characters included: Optimus, Jazz, Ironhide, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe

Notes: Cybertronian Reader, Reader written as around Ironhides age, so older in mind

Pronouns: You, your, yours, them, they

Optimus takes the energon cube you had offered him with an instinctive smile only he almost drops it when you open your mouth to say, "Cube for you, Sweetspark."

Optimus's plating ruffled up immediately, and he couldn't really stop his optics from burning a touch brighter. Jazz coughs into his servo, very unsuccessfully hiding his half laugh. "Thank- you." Optimus settles on because you're still waiting for a response. His vocilizor is a touch tight at the end due to the warmth of the sudden bashfulness in his own chassis. Optimus turns back to Jazz, who was grinning in obvious amusement. Optimus resets his vocilizor before asking Jazz to continue with the verbal review he was giving Optimus.

Optimus then realizes this was something you were now making a habit of when you give him a datapad and call him "Sugar." It eventually doesn't feel like his sparks going to jump out of its own volition, so Optimus allows himself to enjoy the casual affection. It was something delightfully domestic- an affection none of them had privy to after so many vorns at war. It's almost too much at times hearing the fondness in your tone and the delight in your optics. But it's something Optimus has needed for a very, very long time regardless of how raw it may make him feel at the same time.

Optimus will also endure it because watching Prowl or Ironhide struggle with it themselves was actually quite funny. Maybe Optimus will feel brave enough to return the affection back to you one day.

-

As soon as the habit develops, Jazz is for it and a hundred percent ready to join you in using human pet names. Jazz doesn't use them as freely as you do. He thinks it's more entertaining watching the autobots fluster from the side, them not knowing how to handle the little verbal affections. Jazz only tends to use them egregiously with you specifically. It turns into a fun little game between you and Jazz over who can use the most pet names before stumbling into the most embarrassing pet name.

"Heya Lover." You smiled catty at Jazz.

"Doll." Jazz pouted his bottom derma at you.

You quirked an optical ridge, smile still in place. "Hot stuff."

"Sugar lips." Jazz practically purrs, and you hold solid optical contact with on another. You break your gaze first and start laughing in earnest, causing Jazz to realize he'd definitely hit the absurd first with that one. "Yeah, because your derma look sweet?" He grins through his own explanation, watching you laugh.

You just vent finally and smile lazily. "Better luck next time, Romeo." You sing and push his pauldron playfully on your way out the door. Jazz let's himself watch you leave. The playful flirting definitely made Jazz's days feel a bit better. More normal than he'd really been allowed to actually be in vorns. The lightsparked interactions he was having with you were quickly becoming his favorite around the ark.

-

You almost kill Ironhide when he gives you your report he'd gotten from Prowl. "Thank you, Darling," Ironhides engine stalls at the phrase, and he has to slam his fist into his chassis to get it to keep going.

"Beg ya pardon?" Because surely he just heard you wrong. But you just look at him properly and smile all sly, and Ironhide already knows he had heard you correctly before you trace a digit down his windshield glass.

"Thank you, Darling." You repeat, and Ironhides optics burn a level higher than they should near immediately. He scoffs and bats your servo away, trying to ignore the cobalt that's more than probably staining his faceplate.

"Don't be saying slag like that." But slag was slag, and in the vorns Ironhide had known you, you'd always been a slagger. He realizes it's just what you do now when he sees you call Prowl "Pumpkin." Doesn't mean Ironhides gotta like it any. You know he doesn't appreciate it, but because you're a menace so you lay it on extra thick whenever you're talking to Ironhide. Ironhide wasn't a newbuild by a long shot, but the almost sickly sweet phrases are so foreign on Ironhides audials. At this point, he can't stop himself from getting flustered.

Stop that already! Hes too old to be called that! And your too old to be saying slag like that!

-

Sunstreaker is gonna kill you- he knows he can't actually because you're his superior. But frag if you call him "Sunshine" one more time- You offered to stop if Sunstreaker could beat you in a spar, which he agreed to. Which only led to Sunstreaker getting knocked on his aft several separate times. Which only succeeds in making him seethe even more whenever Sunshine comes rolling off your glossia.

His chassis had eventually started to warm whenever your derma curled when you called him it- and that only made him even angrier! Sunstreaker was a war frame! You teasingly calling him a pet name shouldn't do anything BUT annoy him! Sunstreaker was going to beat you in that spar, and he was going to get you to only call him by his actual designation

Sunstreaker knows it's the only way he'll get it to stop because you don't even listen to Ratchet when he tells you to stop using those ridiculous pet names. (But he also notices how Ratchets plating fluffed up like a preening seeker whenever you did call him anything but Ratchet.) The only solace Sunstreaker has is the fact that Sideswipes pet name is somehow even more ridiculous than his.

...

Sideswipe is aghast. Sideswipes baffled. And Sideswipe is disappointed. What the pit kind of a pet name is "Pookie"?! You'll call everybody by more than one pet name besides Sunstreaker and apparently also Sideswipe for some reason. You called Sideswipe "Babe" once and only once, and he's still trying to get his pet name switched to that over Pookie because seriously! Pookie?! You've called him Babe before! It's so easy you can do it again! Please do it again!

Sideswipe hated Pookie. He hated the little smirk that curled at your derma and the amusement in your optics less when you said it- Sideswipe really needed you to call him babe like you had. Your tone is low, barely teasing but very audibly fond. And that directed at Sideswipe? The one time had his engine purring automatically, and his processor wandered south where he knew it shouldn't have been in the first place.

He's watching Sunny get his tailpipe kicked in by you in a spar again, and he ends up asking if he can fight for better pet name rights, too. You laugh "Sure Pookie, you get next round. Step up." So Sideswipe fights for his honor of a better pet name. And Sideswipe gets his aft kicked worse than Sunny. As soon as Sideswipe hits the ground, Sunstreakers back up to try to take you down again.

His brother loses twice as fast to you this time, and Sideswipe can't help asking what the pit that pathetic attempt was! "Have you ever even beaten them in a spar before?!"

Sunstreaker snapped his helm in Sideswips direction with a glare that could freeze the pit over. "Shut the frag up, Pookie!"

Sideswipes on his pedes and in his brothers space in no time flat because how fragging dare he?! You barely get to call him that! "What was that, Sunshine!?"

They're swinging at each other before they know it with you laughing in the background. You end up breaking them up before they get too into it and scold them both with the pet names they both hate.

[viasdiary]

☆ poolside convo (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, not proofread

☆ loosely inspired by "self control" by frank ocean, main character is on vacation in hawaii and leaves her summer lover behind

☆ this is my first fic ever!! some inspo from @jjkbambi @raekensluver @burnforyou enjoy!!

the golden glow of the setting sun shining through the palm trees bathes you in an amber light, painting the most beautiful picture you’ve ever seen. luigi being close to you surely made it even better.

the soft light of the pool hit him from underneath just right, highlighting his toned body and his handsome face, peppered with freckles here and there.

sitting next to him by the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water, you both laugh about all the dumb stuff you guys did together this past summer.

wearing a stupid grin on his face, he adds

“and remember that time you got so drunk you threw up in the hot tub?” you playfully push his shoulder. “yeah, i’d rather not.” he looks at you, his perfect smile still plastered on his face. “you know, this summer really was great. i’m not just saying that either.” he says.

his smile drops a little when he realizes he’s speaking in the past tense. in that moment, it hits both of you that summer is finally over. it’s early august, and you’ll be back home by the end of the week. you’ll be back in school before you know it, and it’ll be a while before you see each other again, if you even see each other again at all.

the both of you would rather not dampen the mood with that idea, so you talk around it, even though the sadness is heavy in the air. your eyes shift between his face, his mouth, and his little freckles here and there. he looks so beautiful.

“hey, you alright?” he asks tenderly. you place your hand on the middle of his chest and press your lips to his. he parts his lips into the kiss before you pull away. you swore you weren’t going to make tonight sad, but before you know it, the words fall from your lips.

“i’m going to miss you so much,” you say, barely a whisper.

he furrows his thick eyebrows together and looks you in your eyes. you pull your legs out of the water and fully face him.

“i wish things could stay this way forever. it’s only been a couple of months, but you’ve slowly become, like ,one of my favorite people, and it hurts me so bad to know that in another couple of months it’ll be like there was nothing between us at all,”

you were so scared to lose him, and even though he insisted you guys could make long distance work, you knew better. he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into another kiss. he kissed you hard this time, hungrier. as he broke the kiss, he whispered into your lips.

“i care about you so much, and i’d do anything to make this work.” he continued to hold you close, his forehead pressed against yours. the warmth of his breath mingled with the warm night air, and you felt your heart racing.

you wanted to believe him, to trust that somehow you could make this work even with the distance and whatever else came with it. "i know you mean that," you whispered back, your voice catching slightly. "but how? we'll be in different states, different schools. our lives are going in totally separate directions."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "we'll figure it out. i’ll call you every night. i'll visit you on breaks. we can make plans for next summer."

you smiled sadly, wanting so badly to share his optimism. "it won't be the same."

"no," he agreed, "it won't. but that doesn't mean it can't be perfect for now." you ran your hands up his thigh. you’d really rather not get too emotional tonight.

“you’re right, lu. i trust you, so please don’t make me regret it." you looked at his pretty face, his concerned expression. the corners of your lips slightly turned upwards, threatening to curl into a full smile. he sensed your shift in mood and gave you another dumb grin.

“god, look at us getting all sad on vacation,” he said, chuckling lightly.

“we gotta stop.” he adds, smiling.

you look at him, smiling sweetly. he looked so handsome with the sunset casting a warm glow on his features. you traced your fingers along his jawline, savoring the feeling of his skin beneath your touch.

"i love you," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

luigi's eyes widened for a moment, then softened. he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours. "i love you too," he murmured against your mouth before capturing it in a deep, passionate kiss.

the world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his curls as his hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer. when you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

"see?" he said with a soft smile. "we've got something special here.

you begin to giggle a little bit.

“no, seriously, we need to make tonight count. this is the last night of a fucking lit summer, and i wanna keep that energy going." he’s also giggling by the time he gets the words out. you study him, his strong jawline, the small freckle on his right cheek, the pronounced bridge of his nose, his perfect teeth framed by his perfect lips.

he looks so hot sitting there, his head slightly tilted back as he laughs. you want to fuck him so badly.

you bite your lip, remembering all the nights you’d shared with him this summer.

without hesitation, you slide onto his lap, straddling him at the edge of the pool.

his laughter fades as he looks up at you, his eyes darkening with want.

"oh yeah?" you say, your voice low and teasing. "and how exactly do you propose we keep that energy going?"

luigi's hands slide up your thighs, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"i've got a few ideas," he murmurs, pulling you closer.

you grind your hips against his, eliciting a soft groan from him.

"care to demonstrate?" you whisper in his ear, trailing soft kisses down the side of his neck.

“god, you feel so good moving on top of me like that,” he moans as you buck your hips, feeling him harden beneath you. he grips your thighs as you move. he kisses the crook of your neck, the heat from his breath making your whole body shiver.

you run your fingers through his curls and grind down harder. he pulls you in for another deep kiss, and the two of you moan into each other. he feels so fucking good, his dick hardening beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. you want him inside you.

"are we really gonna do this by the pool?" he asks, smiling against your lips.

"god, some things really never change," he adds, beginning to untie your bikini top.

he eagerly removes your skimpy top and begins kissing his way down your neck, stopping to suck and nibble at your collarbone. you throw your head back, giving him better access. his hand reaches up to cup your breast, and you moan as his thumb circles your nipple.

he takes the other in his mouth, and his tongue swirls around it before he sucks hard, drawing a loud gasp from you.

"luigi!" you cry, arching your back. he continues sucking and teasing with his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. you grind down on him, needing more friction. you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you're aching for release.

"please, baby, i need you," you whisper, gasping at the feeling of him kissing your chest.

you feel his cock pressing against you, and you can't wait any longer. you pull his shorts and underwear down just enough, exposing his throbbing cock. you quickly slip off your bottoms and straddle him once again, his tip rubbing against your throbbing clit.

"fuck, lu, you're so big," you moan, taking his length in your hand and stroking him.

"you're so fucking eager," he chuckles smugly, watching as you press his length to your slick entrance and slide his cock deep inside you, inch by inch.

"jesus fuck, baby, you feel so good," you cry, starting to bounce up and down. he grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements.

"so do you," he breathes, thrusting into you. "you're so fucking tight."

you pick up the pace, slamming down onto his cock over and over again. his hands resting on your hips, helping guide you up and down. you can feel him stretching you out with each thrust.

"i'm gonna cum," you whimper, feeling yourself getting closer.

"you're doing so fucking good for me, amore," he groans, thrusting deeper.

you grind down on him, desperate for release.

"fuck, luigi, i'm so close," you gasp, the pleasure building inside you. he feels your slick cunt gripping him so tightly, and he knows he can't last much longer either.

"cum for me," he groans, thrusting harder and faster.

"it's too much, lu!" you whine.

"you've taken worse, baby," he replies, driving himself into you more intensely.

"fuck, luigi," you whimper, overstimulated.

"god yes, amore, cum for me," he moans, his voice deep and husky.

you can't hold back any longer. you cum hard, your body shaking with pleasure. he feels your walls clenching around him, and he can't hold back anymore. with a loud moan, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his warm cum.

"fuck," you both groan, collapsing into each other.

the two of you lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath. you can't help but smile as the euphoric waves crash over you. he kisses your cheek softly.

"so, was that enough to keep the energy going?" he asks, a smile spreading across his face.

you can't help but laugh. "god, i love you," you say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"i love you too."

"i'm going to miss you so much, amore," he says, holding you close.

"i'm gonna miss you too, luigi," you say, wrapping your arms around him.

[curlyfriesgalore]

headcanons of a

hibiscus-loving boy ♡

☆ requested by anon — my daisuke headcanons.

★ a long sfw & nsfw headcanons list with one-shot segments of solo! daisuke scenarios to start off the new year 🥳.

☆ gen tags: fem! reader but reader isn't in his life (yet). the sfw takes place on earth and the tulpar, while all the nsfw is on the tulpar. before the crash (except it is mentioned in one headcanon). daisuke & his relationship with his parents. daisuke is single but very much wishes he could mingle. bits of silly stuff because it is daisuke, after all. someone please date him already... swansea is so sick of listening to him rave about "hot babes."

★ nsfw tags MDNI: malesub. dry humping objects. semi-public masturbation. daisuke uses a vibrator & flesh-light individually. mommy kink (as expected) and puppy kink (only mentioned though). lots of yearning for his dream girl and fantasies of women in general. (could it be you? 🫣)

[anon, thank you so much and i hope you liked this! on another note, i'm working on a long fluffy daisuke x reader oneshot, so you guys will get that wholesome content eventually. —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ earth.

this isn't a set headcanon of mine, but i like to think that daisuke is a japanese and filipino man who grew up in hawaii but doesn't go home to his respective countries often. when he does, it's always a long catch-up with his large extended family, whom he misses dearly.

he gives off the energy of a single child solely raised by his first-generation immigrant parents, both of whom want the best for daisuke's future but struggle to show that in a constructive manner.

he has a relatively solid relationship with them, and their arguments are still within the realm of what is expected of families. however, there's a degree of emotional distance between him and his parents, especially with his mom who's a bit firmer on daisuke's education than his dad, who still cares about it just as much, but he's more reserved compared to his wife—the outspoken of the two.

with how they both work full-time and how he grew up with a vastly different upbringing from them, daisuke doesn't feel as close to his parents as he thinks he should. sometimes, they don't understand him, like his incessant love for thrifting and doodle-drawing, and sometimes, he can't understand them, like their insistence on getting him into an ivy league college when a public university works just fine (according to him).

daisuke is much more fluent in tagalog than he is in japanese, which his mom pesters him to study more, fearing that he'll struggle to pass down his knowledge of her lineage to his future kids properly.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"tch, and how will they know how to speak to their obaachan, hah? it's not that hard to practice every morning, dai-dai." his mom sighs, one hand clutching the strap of her kinkachu bag while the other held a bottle of olive oil.

daisuke withheld a groan, grumbling to himself before responding, "i knowww, ma, i know. i'm just busy, okay?" his forearms fold over the trolley's handle, bringing his chin to rest on top of them.

she glares, "busy playing with your gameboy? you call that busy?"

without consciously intending to, he rolls his eyes, then swiftly snaps them back in place. cringing at himself as he purses his lips, a pathetic whisper of sorry leaves his clenching teeth.

before he knows it, his mom is scoffing. she squints at him with her brows furrowed, her gaping mouth quirking to one corner, and shakes her head in disbelief, bee-lining to the next thing on their grocery list.

"eh?! mama, i didn't mean to!" daisuke quickly splurges a cacophony of apologies as he pushes the cart, trying to keep up with his mom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

other than that, his parents genuinely love him, as much as they begrudgingly listen to his endless rambles which they barely understand because of how all over the place his retellings can be.

daisuke always finds ways to interject his current story with another story that relates to the initial story, which he must explain in excruciating detail, or else they won't get the references he'll make when he continues the first story! so they just sigh and nod their head. (it's even worse for his dad when daisuke starts using english slang that's far too modern for his head to translate in real-time).

his parents have considered a second child. however, the financial burden, emotional weight, and physical pain from vaginal burns or cesarean scars that they'd have to repeat were too much. one sugar-charged chatterbox of a kid was enough for their lifetime.

daisuke wasn't always sure about what he wanted to do in life. his mind had always been glued to his dreams of traveling beaches around the world, flirting with pretty girls with a piña colada in hand, sifting through vintage pieces, and finding a girlfriend who loves him enough to want to do the same! but even then, he didn't know how to get to that point. of course, the simple answer was money, but how he'll get that money was what spun at the forefront and lingered at the back of his mind.

though, this is daisuke we're talking about, he's sure this'll work out one way or another!

"girls like smart guys, right?" he'd ask himself as he browsed through a leaflet listing all the STEM subjects his mom had circled in neon red ink. daisuke's eyes drift to the arts and humanities page, wincing at the sheer lack of majors highlighted on that side—it was next to none. save for architecture, which his mom suggested he should try because of his drawing hobby, but, truth be told, it was just a hobby for him.

he loved the freedom of art, especially doodling. it was a space for him to explore whatever wacky design popped into his mind. he'd look at a simple object, darting his eyes to several others, and merge it all into a story of sorts. whether it be a turtle-pig fishing for sentient crackers on a wooden boat or an intergalactic wasteland where sweets colonized spices, it was his favorite pasttime. so, the possibility of having that be ruined by conforming to another person's rules and regulations wasn't for him.

he once suggested studying fashion. assorting clothing pieces, designing looks, and learning its history was a genuine passion of his, but one look at his parents' faces was enough for him to quickly drop it.

daisuke has fixed cars in the past—not fully, but he's helped his dad and a couple of neighbors for some extra dough, and has managed to learn a thing or two.

he was pretty good at math and physics, preferring the latter of the two because he actually got to apply that math into scenarios much more interesting than 'find the radius of a hemisphere of volume 80 cm^3.'

so, when daisuke's mom learns of pony express' last-minute aerospace mechanic internship, she's ecstatic, excitedly telling him to prepare his resume because her son is going to space! after all, her boy got the brains for it.

daisuke genuinely looked forward to this opportunity as well. however, funnily enough, he was terrified of outer space. though he was weirdly okay with the unknown depths of the ocean, the galaxy? that was a different story. at least, if he were drowning in the sea, there was a higher chance of him surviving than choking out in space. he shivered at the thought.

nonetheless, daisuke focused on the positives. "holy shit, what if there are alien beaches with hot ALIEN babes?!"

however, his cv wasn't all that impressive by pony express' standards. so, out of sheer desperation, his mom used a couple of her connections to secure that spot for him, but daisuke doesn't know about this. he thinks his smarts alone got him the job.

she's so adamant about his education because she fears for him, like any parent would. she doesn't want daisuke to suffer financially the same way her and her husband did growing up—it was her nightmare, actually. so, hopefully, with enough prayer and preparation, this will benefit him greatly. (oh... if only she knew).

before his space trip, daisuke's dad treated them all to a 5-day family holiday out in california, letting daisuke choose most of the activities, aka revel in his inner child via arcades and amusement parks. he actually made 2 friends, both in separate places, who'd accompany him whenever his parents got too tired from walking or couldn't bare the insane waiting lines (which was 90% of the time).

his dad had been secretly saving for this ever since daisuke was a kid, wanting to give his son the best birthday an 18-year-old could ever want.

while they've gotten richer over the years, his dad constantly struggled to feel secure in their wealth, feeling as though they could lose it at any time like his family had back then.

★ the tulpar.

upon arriving, daisuke didn't realize that he was a very late addition to the team. he noticed a slight hesitancy in everyone, which made him feel awkward, but in classic daisuke fashion, he shrugged it off and tried his best to get on everyone's good side.

(he definitely vomitted in his mouth soon after take-off).

daisuke quickly befriended everyone. the easiest was curly. he was the captain, after all, and the friendliest and handsomemest boss he'd ever met. even though it was pretty obvious that curly initially tensed at the lack of proper planning from pony express' end, he soon forgot it when daisuke eased into the crew just fine, impressed with how optimistic he'd been.

then, it was anya, who was a little quiet at first, but when she got used to his chipper nature, she had no trouble giggling with daisuke. she's glad to have someone other than curly to have fun with during their game nights, and even curly wasn't the easiest to play with because of how frequently he'd doze off in between turns, drool already dripping down his light beard. so, daisuke was a massively fresh change. he was energized and dramatic, passionately involving himself in the game and sneakily cheating whenever anya was getting a little too close to winning.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

curly called out for anya, asking where she had put his sleeping medication. anya lifted her view off of the board, her finger still holding her chin, and turned to curly, whom she gave instructions to.

daisuke and anya sat on the ground in front of the lounge couch, which swansea sprawled himself on—arms folded over his belly—as he dozed to sleep, his quiet snore growing louder by the minute. daisuke looked at anya, who was now bantering back and forth with their captain, and a mischievous grin inched up his cheeks.

with a very "inconspicuous" whistle, daisuke swiftly switched the positions of her queen and his bishop, shifting his eyes everywhere to ensure no one had seen the evil he'd done.

as anya's laugh died down and brought her focus back to the game, she moved her knight to somewhere on the board, not noticing the changes. then, as ego fueled his chest, daisuke took out her king.

"check and mate, anya." he proudly smiled, flipping his hair. he flicked open his fingers and spread his arms away from the table, figuratively dropping an explosive as he mouthed a boom.

"WHAT?!" anya exclaimed, her brows knit up her forehead as she scrutinized the chess pieces.

swansea snorted awake, startled by the sudden noise. "hah?! oh, what...? wh-what happened, where were we?"

bemusement painted her face when she realized what had happened. she pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the cheater and pointed at daisuke, wagging her finger, "you did something, didn't you?"

daisuke stifled his laugh, remaining nonchalant and poker-faced as he shrugged. "i have no idea what you're talking about."

anya and daisuke just "argued." anya flailed her arms at the monochrome pieces, while daisuke found it increasingly hard not to burst into chuckles.

swansea lifted his back off the sofa, his spine resounding with a loud pop. in his neutral grumble, he said, "looks like daisuke won fair and square to me." then he went back to napping, flopping his neck onto the headrest.

anya was gagged, feeling like she'd gone crazy, so, daisuke finally cracked and cackled, falling to his side as he smacked the floor with tears in his eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

surprisingly enough, it was jimmy with whom he got on good terms with next. well, good enough terms with. they rarely ever talked. their conversations were limited to offhand encounters if they were the only ones near each other, where daisuke asked simple things about his life, followed by jimmy's cold hum.

so, as to not make things awkward, majority of what they discussed related to the tulpar and its workings. (jimmy secretly enjoyed it, though, feeling like he was more important than curly because daisuke would go to him for these types of questions, besides swansea. even though, the reality was that daisuke liked curly way more for how much he could joke around and still found room for professionalism.)

then, there was swansea. daisuke's favorite person, and his one and only mentor!

it felt nice for him to hang out with someone like his parents, except he was more wrinkly, irritable, and meaner than them. sometimes swansea's jabs can sting, but daisuke knows he means well. (then again, daisuke feels that way about everyone, and he's not sure whether that's a good or bad thing.)

despite his clumsiness and how often his mind drifts off to fantasies of breathing in tropical air with bikini-clad ladies surrounding him, he's learned so much from swansea.

it's not just about mechanics, but about life, his experiences and what all the good, bad, and ugly mean to him. without giving too much away about what he's been through, daisuke still managed to infer a couple of things.

albeit, he can be hard to understand. while swansea's advice is straightforward, he is in a descriptively convoulted way. so daisuke could only fully process it when he's lounging on the couch with swansea, taking in every word and, for once in his life, shutting up—which has only happened a couple of times, but hey, who says daisuke can't maneuver his way for more?

he hopes swansea will write him an extensive letter of recommendation and not mention all the times he's given him the wrong wrench, that one foam incident, or his ramblings of how he lowkey highkey wants to be a model, to which swansea would slowly blink at him for.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you want to be a model? for what?" swansea inquires, standing with crossed arms as he watches over daisuke adjusting a screw.

"well, you know, for fashion! getting all dressed up n' stuff, my picture being taken as i pose for the camera." daisuke momentarily stopped twisting the bolt and posed for swansea, smoldering as he folded his arms, definitely not imitating the old man.

swansea just rolled his eyes and told him to get back to work, putting his hands in his pockets instead. "so why'd you pick fixing metal junk instead?"

daisuke paused, ruminating on his following words. "i dunno, my parents want me to be an engineer, which is, like, super cool and all! and i do want to be one... it's just, it'd be nice to try other things i'm good at and see where they'll go, you know? you get me, right, swansea?" he went back to fidgeting with the pipe.

swansea stood there, softly nodding to himself. "i mean, they have a point—torx, kid, not hex," swansea pointed at the other screwdriver in the toolbox next to daisuke, "they don't want you risking unstable work and have no means of supporting yourself."

daisuke ate his lips, and swansea could see him grow smaller by the second. he sighed, "but, i'm not saying that you can't pursue that. you should, at some point, but my daughter's done it before, and she says it's not an easy world—"

"she's done whAT?!" daisuke brightened, nearly dropping the screw in his hand.

"did you even hear a thing i said?" swansea frowned, instinctively crouching down to cup his hand under where the bolt almost slipped.

daisuke nodded, "yeah, yeah, i know, but that is so cool! omg, can she hook me onto some agencies? does she know any? please, swan—!"

"slow down, kid..." swansea unintentionally chuckled, pulling the tool in the daisuke's hand back to the pipe. he shook his head and actually smiled, albeit small. it nearly made daisuke even more happy than he was about the news.

"look, like she said, it's not all fun and games but it is possible to be successful. you've just got to be serious, like you should be..." he taps on the metal, "...here."

"okayyyy..." daisuke heaved, defeated by the present realities.

there was a beat of silence. swansea stretched his neck from shoulder to shoulder and spoke, "...but when we get back to earth, i'll try talking to her, 'kay? now, finish up; you've already been taking long as it is."

daisuke excitedly bobbed his head, saluted him, and returned to his task.

★ extras.

daisuke secretly holds 'runway shows' in his room, walking from one end to the other as he stuns his imaginary audience with all of his hawaiian tees.

no one knows this, but he often draws himself with his dream girl (aka you, heehee). there are so, so many pretty portraits of her. you can truly see the effort he's put in these with every graphite stroke and his smudged fingerprint dented into the paper.

brought so many rings and earrings on board, only to wear the same ones every day 💀.

he enjoys a lot of music genres but predominantly loves pop. i like to think that the game takes place in the retrofuturistic 1990s, so daisuke listens to a lot of sir mix-a-lot and backstreet boys. he probably plays 'livin' la vida loca' on repeat when he's cleaning up foam with swansea.

would not be surprised if he has played every pokemon game on his gameboy.

his sleeping quarters are near swansea's, so... you can imagine how quiet he needs to be when he "relieves" himself (which makes the nsfw section even more embarrassing for daisuke, lmfao).

nsfw.

when daisuke finally realized that he would be alone.. in a room... in a spaceship... for a year... with no parents there to barge in, he tried so fucking hard to hold back the devilish smile crawling up his mouth (think knee surgery grinch). oooof course, he was going to abuse the living shit out of this freedom.

as told by swansea, daisuke "only thinks with his downstairs longnose." so, it's safe to say that he frequently masturbates, to no one's surprise 💀.

however, he needs the physical visual of something to really get off. he can still cum without it. but, as much as daisuke enjoys his fantasies of paradise, it takes an excruciatingly long time, and it never feels as good when he orgasms.

(if mouthwashing took place in our year, he definitely gets super turned on by nsfw audios. stuff like 'F4M gentle mommy praises you' would absolutely be his go-to genre.)

so he brought a portable tv and vhs player, secretly stashing all his favorite porn mags and cassette tapes, along with some new ones he's been dying to watch. the majority are vanilla, with a few bordering on bdsm, a couple of threesomes (it didn't really matter to him if they were FFM or MMF), and solo girls touching themselves as they tell him to follow their instructions, but a lot of them had an overt femdom feel, save for a few.

he tends to jerk off really fast and struggles to pace himself in a way where he doesn't greedily let himself reach his high, so closing his eyes as he listens to porn helps him extend that to a little close to 20 minutes. otherwise, this guy is done in maybe under 4—7 if he's lucky.

(unsurprisingly, he once came in less than 30 seconds from just teasing his tip. he got so embarrassed that he hid himself under the covers, shoving his face into the pillow, for being so pathetically easy).

even then, he can go so many rounds. when there's nothing much to do on the ship, and everyone was too involved in their own business to pay attention to him, he's had a few times where he used 3 of his 5 resting hours just jerking off back-to-back.

no matter how he toys with his dick, he'd always end up an adorable whimpering mess. he was naturally sensitive; pools of pre-cum would easily drip out of his tip after a few strokes, and his thighs would involuntarily shudder with each pump. however, that meant his moans would become so unbelievably loud that his whines could carry through the thickest of walls—unsurprisingly, very in-character for daisuke.

so he's grown used to muffling his mouth moments before he cums. either his palm pressed over his panting parted lips, or he'd resort to smushing his face into his pillows whenever it overwhelmed every inch of his body.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke lay on his side. with one hand tucked under his cheek, gripping strands of his hair, and the other vigorously milking his cock from base to tip, his half-naked body trembled on his bed. the patterned covers sprawled away from the beaded sweat rolling off his inner thighs, and all that filled the air were daisuke's desperate, high-pitched gasps.

a rising heat inched within his abdomen, and his wrist spasmed as every jerk reached speeds unbeknownst to him. daisuke pathetically attempted to smother whatever incoherent mewls escaped his throat, biting down on the skin of his lightly chapped lips, but it was futile. he was starting to lose it.

so, he rolls. he rolls his face into his pillow and props his knees on the mattress, brandishing his ass in the air with his back arched towards the tulpar's metal ceiling.

hoping he's suppressed himself enough, daisuke began whimpering out loud, cushioning his cries as he touched himself as fast as his slippery penis would let him. a list of curses fled his lips as he tried visualizing someone hover over him, grabbing hold of his drenched dick, pinning his head further into the pillow, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

after a couple of twists of his tip, he finally spilled all over the bed, his drool following suit. his cock twitched upwards, lathering bits of his cum all over his stomach, and with one final huff, daisuke dropped himself onto the mattress, sighing into its warmth—too dazed to notice the subdued thumping of footsteps beyond his door.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

he hasn't gotten the opportunity to have sex yet, nor has he charmed anyone enough to get his dick sucked or touched, but he was very close to it!

once, at a party, daisuke got to make out with a girl from his last year in high school, but this guy would not stop talking after each kiss. all that came out of his mouth were the awkwardest of one-liners and rambles full of compliments. while he thought it was cute, the girl quickly got annoyed. after a few more heated swaps of spit, she left the closet they were in, and daisuke just stood there, embarrassed, stuffing his face in some random person's sweater.

though it was only one failed (but he likes to think it was successful) make-out sesh, he loves the act of it so much. the feeling of a girl pressing him up against the wall, no matter how tall or short she was, clutching onto his shirt as their tongues deepened. the thought of their crotches sliding against one another got him all hot and bothered.

but, admittedly, daisuke wished she stayed (not necessarily the same girl in particular) because he loved the idea of him yapping continuously about something as she touched him more and more, latching her teeth onto his neck as her fingers rubbed circles on his bulge. he'd falter, his words blending into an incoherent whimpery mush as she lifted up his shirt and made her way down his collarbone.

oh, how he fantasizes about receiving and giving hickeys. he'll abide by how his dream girl would want to be bitten down, but he wanted to be marked.

daisuke's always been super into teethy indentations on his stomach and darkened spots scattered all over his chest. so he's practiced on his forearm, watching his saliva coat his bite, imagining how prickly it'd feel on his neck. but what he loves most is its meaning, how it symbolizes that he belonged to a girl and she belonged to him. it always made him feel warm and gushy inside.

lowkey feel like he enjoys dry-humping objects. if he sees a soft enough edge with ridges all over or a pillow that's looking softer than it should, he's rutting his clothed dick against it. but because of that, he gets incredibly horny when he starts focusing a little too much on the corner of any table.

anya once had to snap him back into reality after he intently watched jimmy put his back against a particular part of the kitchen counter. daisuke's face flushed, remembering last night.

he had to take his time thrusting his wet bulge against it. standing on his tip-toes, swaying his hips like a seesaw, as he grips the bottom of the counter for stability, for he was losing it. the way his cum would build up was so different from jerking off. it felt like rushing water pushing against a dam, but it was slow, like waves on a shore inching closer to his feet. this would make him cry, and he'd constantly moan in hiccups, short bursts of suppressed whimpers because of how much effort this took. however, he makes sure his mess stays in his pants. so, when he does cum, it would only paint a large stroke over his boxers as his semen dripped all the way down to his knee.

daisuke brought a vibrator and fleshlight on board, which he bought using some of his earnings from the cars he fixed back on earth.

he fucks his fleshlight like a rabbit when topping, depriving himself from all thought as he picks up the pace. but when he's bottoming, he starts lifting his legs off the ground and spreads them in the air, sending his brain over the moon.

when he tried the vibrator for the first time, it's like he entered a whole new realm. he fantasizes being on his stomach, arching his back with his ass in the air, his dick dangling in between his thighs as a girl mercilessly presses a vibrator up against his parts—cumming a messy puddle into his sheets. even though he could still do it on his own, the thought of anyone on laundry duty questioning the large wet stain was too embarrassing to bear.

it's ironic, considering how much he's into risky semi-public quickies. when he gets so pent up in the middle of organizing tool boxes and listening to swansea's rants, he will excuse himself to go to the bathroom. swansea would just roll his eyes and go, "yeah, yeah. do whatever you want, kid. just don't take forever." whether or not swansea actually knew what he was really doing, daisuke will never know—and, frankly, he'd much rather not.

he'd play with himself, alone. running to the tools closet with his back against the door, hand shoved into his boxers, his slick coating his palm as he clutched his shirt, using it as a fabric muffle for his shakey moans, revealing his heaving chest and hardened nipples. his eyes squeeze shut as his eyebrows knit in ecstasy.

(when the crash happens and he's forced to sleep in the lounge, he often scurries away to empty areas around the tulpar when swansea is too drunk out of his mind to notice daisuke's random disappearances.)

while he's not exactly sure where his mommy thing came from (don't look into that too deeply), he really indulges himself in it. he likes to re-enact his sexual scenarios when he touches himself, saying his lines out loud as if the person he was imagining were with him. he'd whine for mommy to let him cum, and when he got real close, he'd call himself a good boy like it were a mantra.

do you guys think he might like being called 'puppy'? i think it's very likely. he reads as the type of person who thrives off praise and massively enjoys any petname a person could give him.

i think he fantasizes about a bunch of women using him instead of him using women, which is what horny guys his age probably think of more often. but no, daisuke finds it so fucking hot to be used like a toy by more than one person, not knowing what pleasure he'll feel next.

but he's unsure if he would actually like that to happen in real life. sure, it gets his gears going, but he knows he'd be good with his one and only (hypothetical and future) girlfriend doing whatever she wants to him.

[i'm not sure if anyone could tell, but i got pretty lazy towards the end 🫠 if there are any scenarios that you want me to expand into single one-shots then feel free to request! so far, i have two other reqs and 3 original works, so it might take a while, especially because i have irl things to work on. —iris🌠]

[always-just-red]

001 with raf would send me to the MOON 😭❤️ (don’t tell zayne i sent this 🤫)

😎 Don't worry. I've got you. *slides this over the table to you real casual so Zayne doesn't suspect a thing* (Also happy new year aaaaaaaa!!!) GUYS Christmas isn't over until I say it's over and it's not over until I get through these festive prompts, ok? 🥺 THE HOLIDAYS LIVE ON!!!

Rafayel X Reader 🔥🎄☃️❄️

Prompt #001: under the mistletoe, placed sneakily above a doorframe.

Warnings/additional tags: established relationship, teency bit of suggestion, a few joking references to gaslighting, injury (Raf I love you, I'm sorry I won't let you catch a single break!!!)

The moment you open the door, something falls. Or should you say… someone? There’s a clatter: heavy and metal. A thud, too— even an “ow!” You don’t know what you struck or toppled, but you do know it sounds bad.

“Rafayel?” You peek around his door, afraid to do any more damage by moving it.

The man is sprawled over the floor like a sad-looking starfish. Maybe a dead starfish? His eyes are closed, but his chest rises and falls, rises and falls; you haven’t killed him yet. “Are you okay?” you ask, stepping the rest of the way into his home and pushing the door closed behind you. “Raf? Rafayel? You still with me?”

His eyes open: rock pools swirling with a momentary disturbance, but then settling, still. “Hey,” he says, once the waters are calm and full of your reflection.

Hey? That’s it? “What are you doing?”

He props himself up on his elbows, wincing. “Oh, you know… art stuff.” When you lift an eyebrow, he clarifies: “Tryna get a new perspective from down here. You get it.”

Glancing around, there’s no half-completed artwork, nor painting strung to the ceiling (though that wouldn’t much surprise you). “Perspective on what?”

“Uhh. The world?”

“And how’s the world looking from down there?”

“… Different?”

“Insightful.”

“Yeah, I know.”

So he’s not going to cooperate? Fine; this is hardly the first time you’ve walked into his studio and had to play detective. Ignore his narrowed eyes, just begging you to contradict him. You crouch down, stroking your chin. There was that metal sound, remember? And a stepladder is lying nearby. Why would he—? Your eyes follow the line of the doorway, roaming up, up until…   

“Mistletoe, Raf? Really?”

He tuts. “That’s not mistletoe, cutie. It’s holly. Wishful thinking much? Gods…”

You stare at the plant fixed above your heads: its long, smooth-edged leaves and its berries, white like pearls. You’re not an idiot. That’s mistletoe. “Trying to gaslight me now?”

“What?” he gawks. “No!”

“You so are! Look at it, that’s—”

Suddenly his hands are over your eyes. “Don’t look at it, cutie. It’s holly, okay? You’re seeing things, trust me.”

“Raf!” you squeak. “That’s—” you can barely get the words out as you laugh, wriggling to get free— “that’s gaslighting! I know what I saw! It was—”

“Shhhh. You saw nothing.”

One hand is on your mouth now, stifling your protests. He shushes you as he pulls you back until you’re seated between his legs. His body is over and around you. You could nip at his fingers— could twist out of his arms and have him pinned to the ground in little more than a second— but it’s the holidays, so you let him have this one.

Eventually, his hands slip down, wrapping around you in a lazy hug. Your head lolls back against his shoulder. “It’s a shame it’s not mistletoe,” you say wistfully, gazing up at the ‘holly.’

“Yeah?” he asks, making you giggle again as his teeth graze your ear.

“Yeah. If it was, then we could…”

You trail off, angling your face until your lips meet his— almost. There’s an inch between you: a tiny space always full of longing, no matter how many times you close it. Seconds of longing, like every first time you see him. Minutes, hours: when you stand, meeting eyes across a crowded room and holding back on a rescue, because Thomas is watching, too.

Then there’s years. Years on a quiet, empty beach, picturing this, waiting for this.

A reunion.

Rafayel leans closer.

“Oh well!” you exclaim, going to move away from him.  

“No, no, no!” he stammers. “Wait! Wait, okay? Just let me… let me think for a second.”

You lean back against him, a smug smile on your lips as you study the mistletoe above you. You’re not the only one looking at it.

“It’s mistletoe,” Rafayel mumbles, barely audible.

“Huh? Say that again, sorry, I didn’t quite—”

“It’s mistletoe!” he groans.

You gasp: “It is?!”

“Plot twist, yeah?” His fingers are on your chin, turning your face back towards him. He chuckles as you let him kiss you this time: sweet and gentle, like a tide afraid to trespass on the shore.

It isn’t enough. “You know,” you say, drawing back and straightening his already-straight shirt collar, “now that you mention it, didn’t we see some of that stuff the other day? Somewhere else? The bedroom, maybe?”

He grins. “Now who’s gaslighting?”

You shut him up with another kiss, then break away from him, clambering to your feet. “You wanna check it out, or not?”

“Oh I do, I definitely do.”

And you’ve got a head start, so you might as well lead the way. You tiptoe around various messes— the fallen stepladder, and then the more traditional paint cans and brushes. Rafayel should catch-up to you, should be lifting you over this colourful obstacle course, but he doesn’t, and he isn’t.

You slow down to a stop, glancing over your shoulder.

The artist has rolled onto his front, his chin held up by his hands, and his eyes are the only things following you. You put your hands on your hips knowingly. “Hospital?” you ask.

“Hospital,” he agrees with a sheepish smile.

[florencesf1blog]

idk if you’d be into writing this type of thing but i was hoping to see a step brother!carlos au👀

oh i’m open to a lot of things girl but i’ve never written for something like this so i hope it’s good🙏

——————————————————————————

your father recently remarried, which brought a lot of changes in your life. it took you some time to adapt, but luckily your kind step brother!carlos is here to help you out.

step brother!carlos who is all about helping his new step sister move into her new room. he carries the heavy boxes and helps to put shelves and closets together. what a gentleman! but really he’s mostly intrigued by the stuff you brought with you. to get a bit of an insight he’s all about helping you unpack, too.

step brother!carlos who makes sure you feel welcome in his home. he shows you around, tells you where stuff is and even offers to take you out to lunch to show you his hometown. isn’t he just a sweetheart?

step brother!carlos who often workouts in your yard, that just happens to be the view out of your bedroom window. you often catch yourself staring, especially because carlos can’t be bothered to wear a shirt. you think he never notices, because he never brings it up. but there’s a reason he keeps working out in the same spot.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

step brother!carlos who comes to call you downstairs for dinner, but catches you doing something else instead. the sight of you fingering yourself should have scared him off, but the two of you think different. ‘go on then, cariño. show me what you do to yourself’. ‘i know you’re thinking of me. i know you’ve been watching me, too’. ‘i’ll help you cum, only if you cum to my name’.

step brother!carlos who is all about teaching you new things. he wouldn’t say he was disappointed when he found out you were a virgin (though it would’ve been more fun of you were) because he had other things on his mind. when you told him no man had ever eaten you out before, he was happy to be the first. ‘you’ll have to stay quiet, bebe, wouldn’t want your father catching us now would we?’ he’d tell you, though he’d make quite an effort to get some noise out of you. the way he sucked on your clit, the way his tongue lapped up and inside of you had you writhing.

step brother!carlos who doesn’t like to share. nobody can know of the things that take place once everyone else in the house is asleep. so when he invited his friends over, they think you’re up for grabs. and you, being the tease that you are, let them think that. obviously carlos couldn’t stand for that. he excuses himself and goes straight to your room. ‘what do you think you’re doing?’. ‘maybe i should stuff your mouth so you can’t rattle your mouth anymore’. he doesn’t waste any moment. his friends are waiting for him after all. you take his cock, gagging as it hits the back of your throat at a brutal pace. after he came in your mouth, he leaves you disheveled in your room.

——————————————————————————

kind of a scrap cause idk how i feel about this and i haven’t done this in a while. lmk what you think!

want more step brother!carlos or have other ideas? leave them behind in my inbox!

[yonakuu]

۶ৎ- Don't be Shy Babe, Spend some More!⭑.ᐟ

Kaiju No. 8: Narumi Gen

Word Count: 1.2k+

Pairing: Narumi Gen x Reader

More Author's notes at the end, enjoy your reading!

۶ৎ In the vast blue sky, Clouds part to welcome a shooting star. In all it's beauty, adorns a royal purple as it inches closer and closer.

You'd be surprised at this phenomenon if it was your first time playing this game 'Genshin Impact'.

But no, You've been playing this retched game for a long time now. Grinding long and boring quests which offer little to no reward at all. Repeating daily commissions, explorations, and events. Only to receive not even one useful character constellation.

Four stars appear subsequently on the screen, showing the art of a weapon you've seen so many times before.

' Favonius Codex '

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

That was the last pull you could do. Saved up Primogems out dry in a blink of an eye.

You don't know what to do now: Whether to roll around the floor in hysteria, to cry, to laugh or to just sleep and dream of wonderful things.

Like getting your favorite character.

"Ouh, that sucks." What a half assed response to that life ruinous occurrence- drawled by an individual of black locks with pink highlights. Which also peeped at your phone and witnessed... Whatever that nightmare was.

"Shut up Gen! You're so lucky it makes me sick.-" You gasp.

"- No no no you must've paid so much to get where you are now." Now pointing fingers to accuse him further.

"A sore loser too, I mean that's a skill issue babe." Narumi :3's at your frustration, easily riling you up. One of the plethora of skills he's most proud of.

With your mouth wide open at his words, you feel your jaw ticking. "I'll show you skill issue!" With a pillow in hand you pour all your rage from the months you've ground for those shiny primogems. Smacking it at him continuously in commemoration for all the blood, sweat and tears you've used up.

"Ahhh! Whats the big deal babe. It's not the end of the world- maybe the banner in a few minutes but come on." Trying to wrestle the pillow from your grip he does underhanded techniques. Another thing he prides himself in, of being able to get out of sticky situations especially on the field because he's that good.

But to be honest he's more scared of you than any kaiju. Especially when your bottomless pit of anger plummets to the all time low, maybe pacifying isn't his strong suit after all.

"There's one solution to that you know." With his serious work face on, he says directly to temper you down.

......It really is a good idea this time.

"Huh?" You tilt your head and show your skepticism. The pillow now out of your grasp due to those distracting words you hear him utter.

......

"Top up." He grins,

Jutting his jaw up proudly. Like he's solved the answer to the worlds greatest problem.

That kind of solution should've been expected. With all the Yamazon boxes sprawled in every corner of his room as a reminder.

Retail therapy is his go to problem solver then. (Honestly same)

"Don't you pin me out like you! I don't wanna become broke. I still have to buy stuff for our survival." Declining a bit too quickly for his liking.

Though he's still thankful for the added thought of him oh and the snacks you bring home- Oh great responsible partner, love of his life.

"But it's so cheap to get a welkin moon." Itching the side of his face, he deadpans. All so while gazing at his own account. Already maxed out on the current banners.

"Well I don't have a first division captain's salary now don't I?" A duh statement if you ask him- nobody has the biggest perks in this place but him!

"Butttt you are a very hard working individual- too hard working actually. So you can make up the loses. Plus you're very very responsibl-" He continues his yapping to why you should waste your money on a stupid gacha game, every word and praise coming out of his mouth you try to ignore.

But if it's something Narumi Gen isn't? Is someone who is quick to give up nor docile-

And.... his reasoning is starting to sound a little plausible now.

... Sigh, what a bad influence.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You got the golden wishing star, bringing forth your desired character with it. But at what cost?

The beauty of this character- the voice lines, skills.

That's it? Once the adrenaline from gambling wears off life becomes meh again.

Narumi observes your defeated form with confusion. "If your so worried about the money you spent then take some back from my bank." He ushers in disbelief, Does this really bother you that much?

If so he'll take care of it.

He won't run out of money that fast. Ah he thinks....

But! When the time comes begging officer Shinomiya for money is no biggie.

"That's sweet babe, but I don't wanna have you dirt poor as much as It tempts me. You've still got alot of pending Yamazon orders last I checked."

-ack. The previous loving expression takes a detour on Narumi's face, turning into one like irk. Animating itself on his face.

No more like the five stages of grief actually.

"I would expect my lover to have more trust on me! You're starting to sound like those losers on social media- if you wanna break up with me just say so!" He mumbles, sulking as he pulls his blanket and wraps it around his sitting form.

"Your loss anyways." He mumbles with spite-

"Nah it's cause I love you too much babe!" You're quick to deter his claims of you, closing your distance with amusement.

"Hmm and next thing i'll know you'll have a hate account of me. Like them, get a life really." His eyes narrow in suspicion, his declarations only worsening.

Much to your offence,

"I'd fight them for you Gen, you know that. I'll right hook their hate so far they'll never see the face of the earth again!" You peck him on the cheek. Clearly talking doesn't penetrate his defenses that much. So a hands on approach is definitely the way to go.

"Tch you're super lucky I love you." Sarcastic as it is, he let's up his sulking to wrap his arms around you- in one tight hug.

It seems like he doesn't really believe you when you say that huh?

....Another sigh,

If only he knows you really do have a fan account of him fighting for his honor. A fact unbeknownst to every single person in your life, only in the shadows of your room there you work earnestly looking for no reward....

A downtime job when you aren't busy supporting your captain in the field eliminating kaiju.

It takes a lot of effort, even if you're fighting a losing battle you won't let up cause you know how much of a good person he is.

So your solution to this problem....

Is to gather more Fans of him! By letting the citizens see some super high quality compilations of Gen fighting kaijus in the coolest, flashiest angle on social media- which no normal paparazzi could capture n' post unless they're directly on the field with him. Showing how awesome he could be.

But that's a secret for another day. You'll just busy yourself in co-op with him in this game for now.

Without anybody knowing your hidden identity....

So basically, Reader being Batman. A crackfic IM SORRYYYYY.

Christmas break is gonna be over soon i'm losing my mind.

Please let the tags work on this one i'm gonna cry if it's broken like the Hoshina one. The gradients are a bit funky, but it's a problem for another day ya'll. Promise it will be fixed :>

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 43

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's (Mother Spore) pov*

You think you gained some kind of understanding of what they are talking about trough just context clues. They talk about it like It's common knowledge so you have to guess on what they are discussing.

In short these guys want to fight this weird egg themed cult., the villains all seem to dislike the egg cult people for some reason....It's just...a whole lot of missing information they aren't sharing.

You do try to think about who this egg could be... The blood god would never stoop so low as to take the shape of an egg, neither would Exor or Shad... You come up empty, either this egg tging isn't actually a god or it must be one you never really cared about knowing in the past, either way you don't see why everyone hates these people.

Now, you thought it was time for the plan to be explained but no, of course not. Despite everyone having shared how much they hate this egg they still need to discuss payments and favours and other stuff that doesn't matter. You get it, humans are greedy or whatever but come on! You thought this was going to be fun! And you can't even lament about it vocally because Mother Spore is supposed to be silent and mysterious. Xonorth though...he's the worst offender, while the others take little time to convince he just keeps wanting more.

At least the whole stealth operation with Poultryman is just about to start, at least.

*Grian's (Poultryman) pov*

Flame motions towards you and the other two, he points to the ground and you land, you aren't at Las Nevadas yet but you are close.

"Does everyone remember the plan?"

...

You raise your hand. "I wasn't told anything."

"Right, I knew I was forgetting something. We aren't going to just walk in the casino. That's stupid."

You expected that, from what you have seen as Mother Spore the main entrance is under close surveilance.

"I came up with the plan!" Worm man shouts before Seraphin places his hands on his mouth.

"Yes you did. We are going to go through the vents, they aren't big so we'll have to crawl..."

"Hmpfffg"

"... Seraphin, let him go."

You feel a bit like a fourth wheel.

...

Wait they want you to crawl in what now?

"Why the vents"

"Easier, plus we get to listenificate in to the meeting."

"That's... alright."

"Well then, let's go!"

*Grian's pov*

After the last movie's credits Scar suddenly got a message and excused himself for a few minutes.

As soon as came back he started saying you had to go and make excuses for the two of you two leave early, Pearl sent you a look but didn't say anything...You decided to not fight it, you were sure he had his reasons, so with Pearl and the others waving you away the two of you quickly gathered your belongings and left in a hurry.

As soon as you leave the apartment he quite literally deflates and his smile wavers.

"Scar, what was that abou-"

"Not here! Just...let's get somewhere else first!"

He's desperate and flustered and something is definitely up.

"... o ... k?"

And so you let him lead you to an empty street and wait for him to check around for anyone that might be near.

"So?"

"The association wants Hotguy and Cuteguy...now"

Huh that's unexpected, what could it possibly be for? You hope It's not near Las Nevadas.

" . . . Why?"

"Someone saw Poultryman, Flame, Seraphin and Worm man near Las Nevadas. They sent us both to catch them"

Oh this is ... Of course It's Las Nevadas, you shouldn't have hoped. You are going to fight yourself fighting yourself, that's going to be something... You do wonder how you were seen at all though, you were sure Flame and the others had been extremely careful about not being seen.

Wait one moment, what does he mean they want Cuteguy??? You aren't even allowed to go out as Cuteguy!

"I thought I wasn't allowed to go out as Cute guy yet"

"I thought so too... They didn't really explain what changed, that just said that things have changed"

"Well then we have no time to waste do we?"

"No...no we don't."

...Wait.

"Weren't they supposed to give me like...a hero outfit or something?"

"Cub is working on one but it's not ready since you weren't...supposed to go out this soon."

"And I'm guessing It's not going to be done in a short amount of time"

"Probably not..."

"Great... We'll have to put something together in- ... how long until we have to leave?"

"Half an hour, at most."

That's literally nothing, were you a mortal and this would have become a disaster. The hero association should have circus music as their theme song.

"I'll figure it out just... go back to the tower and get your stuff together and we meet up back in half an hour"

[thinkingthougths]

-Ghost x female reader

2820 words

Warnings- dubcon touches

The haunting of a Ghost

Chapter 3

Since the party where it all started, you’ve only seen Ghost in passing by’s or the occasional happenings where you both have attended the same meetings. No words have been spoken between you as you’ve avoided him and his perverted stares.

Fucking hell.

By the purposeful advancing towards where your group stands all uncomfortable to be in his vicinity, there’s no doubt in your weary bones that he’s the scary superior that’s been gossiped about. It appears the lieutenant has been handed the roll of the instructor for today’s training.

You’re so fucked. There’s no way you will be able to not act like a complete idiot and hide the week long musings that’s been running you ragged.

Ghost takes the other side of the training mat, clasping his hands behinds his back and taking a wide stance that reeks of power.

The dull sound of barbells being placed back onto their racks and a treadmill starting to spin- The room had begun its clamor and cacophony again, going back to what they were doing before an entity of brutal strength invaded their calm midday workout.

“Today, you will practice basic combat moves, one on one on the mat.” Ghost’s baritone voice boomed out, instantly making each of you stand a little bit straighter.

With heavy steps he walked to the edge of the mat, staring at the two men standing furtherest away from you in the line.

“Soldier Williams and soldier Burton, you’re up first.”

Your eyes followed the men’s uncomfortable gait to the middle of the large mat, they were withering under the harsh stare of the lieutenant. Ghost had that effect on people, you included.

The following hour included harsh belittling comments and at best, a little “helpful” advice from your cynical instructor. He clearly preferred to point out everyone’s faults and then not give any input on how to improve their techniques.

You felt a bit at ease at not being right about predicting that Ghost would glower at your during the lesson, forcing yourself to believe that this was one sided and just an imaginary wrongful accusation from your side. Naively, holding onto that hope as the time neared for you to enter the fighting ring.

As the line decreased two after two, you noticed that the group wasn’t an even number. Where you stood at the end of the line, anxiously waiting for your turn, the notion brought confusion. Since each pair had left after their turn on the mat, there won’t be enough soldiers for you to train with someone. Thank god, a blessing in disguise. You doubt, with how knackered each person ended up after their round, that someone will stay and have enough strength to go for another round. Meaning that you don’t have to participate this time.

The reasoning energized you, as you saw the end nearing and the idea of leaving early and possibly getting the time for some free time to do stuff that’s on your to do list and then perhaps a quick nap.

You didn’t consider the fact that the lieutenant would offer himself up as a partner.

When the order dropped from his mouth you were already inching toward the locker room and dreaming of your bed.

You immediately froze up as his words dissolved in your head and you fathomed what he had just said.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? You’re just a simple foot soldier and he is… he’s a goddamn tank. You don’t even reach the beginning of the combat skills that he has. Nor is your body a mountain of a muscle like his is, he’s double, no, he’s thrice your size. It’s not fair at all to pit him against you.

You take notice that by now everyone around you has left, the nearest person is in the other side of the gym, making the two of you well hidden from curious eyes and ears.

Ghost notice it too, of course he does, the bastard probably planned this outcome by calculating and choosing to begin at the other end of the line from where you stood so that you’ll be left with no one to spar with.

Using all your strength, you painstakingly lift one stiff leg and then another until you reach the damned mat. Putting the largest amount of space as possible between you, an act that doesn’t slink past the attentive eyes of Ghost.

It’s like being served on a silver plate to Ghost, but in your case that plate is red and made out of plastic foam.

You can feel your lungs expand with quick surges, up and down, to accommodate the rapid breathing that you are fighting to keep hidden from his prying eyes. No need to alert him that you’re so nervous from the idea of being touched by him, even if it’s only play fighting, that it’s making you into a such a pathetic mess.

Tense silence goes by for a long moment before Ghost begins to talk. He seems to contemplate something, thoroughly surveying your jittery body that unfortunately displays all the signs of mortal fear that you cannot hide from him.

“Raise your fists, soldier.” He barks out and commands you to get into first position, the same one the rest of the group also performed under his scrutiny. Perhaps Ghost actually intends to train you and treat you the same way he did the others, you try to convince yourself.

Perhaps you should wait before putting Ghost in a more positive light.

He doesn’t hold back.

Instantly lunging at you and catching you off guard, sparing you no seconds to actually being able to dodge his sudden attack. One quick swipe with his leg behind yours and you instantly fall onto the mat with a heavy thud. The sudden impact to your ass has you wincing in pain. The sharp pain throbs in your lumbar like lightning, he didn’t try to play nice nor did he give you any chance to dampen your fall either.

You sit on the mat stunned, blinking in shock at what had just happened. He moved so quickly and proficiently, and you don’t know why you expected him to hold back or even take it down a notch seeing as you’re below him in experience.

He looks down at you from his nose with dissatisfaction before barking out another command. “Get up.” Short and precise, nevertheless it had you scurrying to your feet again.

Once more you raised your fists, this time prepared for him to attack you.

Ghost charged at you, turning his body to your left side and exposing where he was headed. So, you nimbly sidestepped to your right, feeling jubilant over the fact that you managed to outsmart the man. Except he anticipated it, he was the one who outsmarted you from the beginning, tricking you into believing he was going for your left side and knowing you would jump to your right. You should have known better, Ghost has years upon years of experience and would never make such a rookie move.

He swung his fist into your stomach, hard enough to make you wheeze and loose your footing. Desperate for air you coughed as your eyes bulged in surprise once more. He wasn’t like anyone you’d trained with before. It was a common rule to not hit hard enough to damage during play fighting, the injuries were reserved for the enemies. A rule he clearly did not heed.

“You’re slow. And naive.” Ghost bluntly sneered. Distaste written on his upper half of his face that remained free from the cloaking balaclava.

After getting air back into your lungs, you rose from being hunched over in pain and frowned at him. “You’re not playing fair.” You childishly snapped back at him, being humiliated over how easily he could defeat you and then go forward to verbally bully you like that.

Vexed at your reply, he took a menacing step closer to you and leaned towards your face. “Watch it.” He growled.

At this close, you could see the specks of gold twinkling in his deep brown eyes. It feels too intimate being able to see this part of him so you turn your head away and clench your jaw to not say anything more that will anger him any further.

He takes his position again, bending at the knees and lifting his fists up to his face. It’s a taunt to you, to protect his face when he clearly doesn’t need it. And that infuriates you to the point where you’re the one who lunges first. The whites of his eyes reveals he wasn’t prepared for your sudden jump at him, making him loose his bearing and both of you tumble to the ground with you landing on top of him.

The fall stupefied you for a short moment and Ghost seemed to be equally as disoriented as both of you stayed still. When the coins fell and you realized what you had done, actually overpowered him and managed to bring him to the floor, your grip on his shoulders became slack as a burst of joy surged through your body.

That turned out to be a grave mistake, for Ghost took the window of opportunity to seize your arms, spinning and launching you onto the mat beside him. He then proceeded, while you moaned in agony from the collision of being thrown onto the hard mat, to position himself on top of you while simultaneously capturing your hands and slamming them onto the mat above your head.

You feared you might have bruised a rib or two with the extensive and unnecessary force he used on you, a throbbing ache on the left side of your upper body rang warning bells to your brain that’s there’s something wrong.

But, another completely different thing worried you far, far greatly.

The position you found yourself in. He’d positioned himself with his knees tightly wrapped on each side of your thighs to immobilize you, barely leaving any space between your bodies as he leaned over you to hold your wrists. The closeness had his body heat sent waves of warmth onto yours, further reminding of his position. Immoral thoughts arose in your depraved mind of how this physical contact would look to others if anyone happened to pass by your tangled bodies.

Thinking of the rumors that would spread has you feeling mortified, humiliated that it would be your name on their tongues when speaking of the girl fooling around with her superior. Your deeply rooted insecurity of being ridiculed has you coming up with the worst case scenarios. Being called a slut, or something worse.

But the worst part of it, was that you liked it. This inappropriate placement of being beneath Ghost, the unrivaled soldier, makes you secretly feel things you shouldn’t. Things that said out loud would get you on the first bus home with a dishonorable discharge. Which makes the risqué thrill even greater, makes the fear of being gossiped about fade out.

Ghost lowered himself until the fabrics of your clothing touched and you swear you could feel his rapid heart touch your breasts. Each breath you took expanded your lungs making your chests touch just for a second.

He tilted his face closer to the side of your stockstill one frozen in fear (or perhaps was is anticipation), letting his warm breath brush over your red tipped ears before snarling with a clenched voice. “Pure luck that you pulled that move, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. If your boiling hot cheeks weren’t on fire and brightly red before then they sure as hell are now. Ghost has never, and you really mean never ever, called you by something else other than your call sign or last name. Ashamed, you close your eyes shut when you feel heat developing in your nether region. How pathetic isn’t it to have such a shameless reaction when hearing a man call you by a simple pet name. The same godless man that’s had you sleeping with one eye open in fear of being strangled in the middle of the night.

The punishing grip his hands had on your wrists had loosened as they began so ever slowly to make their way further down your limp arms. During your wrangle, he kept his balaclava on, giving you bestowment on only his mercurial eyes. Eyes that were burning with the intensity of a thousands suns and igniting something obscure and unprecedented within you.

His gloved hand followed the shape of your neck with slow and precise movements. He had you holding your breath in anticipation that evoked both disgust and delirium within you.

The intimate connection between your bodies revealed the increase in his heartbeat, you could feel each thrum of his heart as the blood flowed with gusto. Did he also endure the same affliction as you? Could he also feel the increase in your fervent heartbeat and how the goosebumps on your skin was thanks to him? Could he tell you were on the verge of trembling from how insanely fast your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts.

All noise had disappeared from the room similar to the way a candle would cast the room in darkness when its lights been blown out. All you could hear was the erratic thuds of your hearts beating with frenzy.

His finger delicately traced your collarbone that faintly showed under your shirt, taking his time to follow the ridges and valleys of your neck as if he had wanted to do this for a long time, before abruptly stopping on top of your throat. His hand floated gently for a second then dived and formed itself around your sweaty throat. Nervous sweat that had accumulated the second he positioned himself on top of you.

The whites of your eyes widened as your eyes burst open in bone chilling fear and old imaginary visions of him suffocating you popped up.

However, he never put any force on your throat. Each finger lied with a firm yet light grasp on your skin but never made any hint that they were about to crush your esophagus.

Ghost kept his hand there, tilting his head back and forth analyzing the placement as if he couldn’t himself understand what he was doing.

You swallowed from the unease, feeling your jugular move against his palm. The motion woke him up out of his trance. He swiped his hand away from you with a look of confusion and surprise. There was nothing that came to mind on what to say so you lied awkwardly limp beneath him, awaiting his next move. It bothered you how submissive you must appear in this situation, and the impression you’re giving off.

Ghost maneuvered himself off you, careful to not touch you more than necessary.

You took the gesture as something unkind, it made you feel like dirt he didn’t want on him.

After he had gotten up, you took a shuddering breath and slowly rose as well. Avoiding any glances at him since the sight of him staring icily at you with disgust wasn’t one you’d be able to handle at the moment, so your glassy eyes never left the training mat.

Ghost didn’t speak nor make any move for a tension filled while. He, just like you, appeared to be utterly lost in confusion of whatever the hell kind of scene that just had played out between the two of you. He stood stockstill while you ignored to the urge to nervously pick at your nails.

From the corner of your eye, you witnessed how he did a 180 degree turn and simply marched out of the building, leaving you alone in the now barren corner of the gym.

And just like that, the hopeful seed he’d planted when he offered those tender touches turned rotten. Left was only tiny specks of spoilt emotions that evolved into a new gut wrenching fear that you hadn’t even thought of from the beginning. Perhaps he didn’t hate you, didn’t fancy you. No, after all this time it was perhaps outright disgust he felt towards you. The thing that had festered your mind since child, the thoughts that began when boys started to bully you and make fun of your looks. The thing you feared the most; being seen as something subpar than all the other women one the base. Never good looking enough to be wanted. Never going to be good enough in any man’s eyes to be loved by them.

Overwhelmed with the vast array of emotions that were making you nauseous and giving you headache, you bee lined it to the locker rooms. Any second now you feared you’d start to cry and you rather do it in one of the toilets than out here in the open for everyone to judge.

[soulstagger]

Just as the situation was about to cascade, Ziatrix slipped away from the scene. Just as quietly as she moved, as inhumanely as she could be, one moment Browning saw her. The next when she moved to confront the men, the strange woman vanished.

If anything it was a last attempt to abide by Browning's wishes. No death, no fighting, avoid the conflict, be unseen and leave once the task was done. As they walked Browning away, Ziatrix slipped back to the vehicle unnaturally, setting the process up and letting fuel flow by itself into their container.

She filled what she could from watching Browning do the same, unseen in the dark by the vehicle, as if light itself wished not to interact with her.

Even if one looked back, they'd see nothing. They wouldn't notice Ziatrix finishing what she could and moving on, hiding their stuff before following them silently into the alley.

Purple eyes watched as diplomacy was eroded away, they men were angry and they were about to take it out on Browning. Could she handle them? Perhaps... Browning was not just a human, but a stab being inflicted already, with possibly more on the way.

She fell, pain causing her to seize up. The men standing over her, kicking the body to see how much it hurt, gawking and reveling in their petty revenge.

They wouldn't even notice Ziatrix dropping down behind them, only Browning out. Her eyes catching the purple eyed woman landing behind them, shadows from the streetlights behind her hiding the intent that only Browning could feel.

Hunger. Malice. The feeling of helplessness towards a peaceful solution, and the decision made hastily.

I eat.

"Men of the alley, refined guests of our banquet." Her voice startled the two, both of them looking at the stranger before them.

"Get lost bitch, this isn't any of your business." One shouts.

The other pulls from his jacket a firearm, and points it. "Did you not hear us?"

Ziatrix does not flinch, she continues her approach. Her tongue licks her lips, Browning can feel it. Utter desire to eat.

"I did not... nor do I care." A gunshot rings out, the sound of a knife hitting the cement clatters beside Browning. The two men are stuck, their eyes wife, red drips down their bodies to the floor.

From puddles all over, thin needles of water are stretching, piercing both men in several very non-lethal points. Enough however to lock them in place, their wrists and hands are pierced and the gun and knife drop.

Like being caught in a max of spikes, each running through their body avoiding delicious precious insides.

"If action is taken...near not a shred of their behind." She walks to the first man, the one who stabbed Browning. Her hand swipes through them, splashing water, ripping flesh with claw like fingers. She takes a literal chunk from them, just enough to fit in her hand.

As the flesh leaves his body, a spectral looking thing follows. It looks like a translucent copy of him being stretched from the body. Brought with that flesh as Ziatrix savors it, eating the meat and the soul of the man. It screams, his body screams like it should in pain, but the soul, the translucent one of him screams too. It shreds apart, some of it returning to the body.

The man's yells subsided as his mind recoils, panic set sin. She's eaten a part of him, and a part of his essence, of his soul and personality.

The man is jumbled, he can't make words, he can't form thought. And Ziatrix only gets more excited, she turns to the other, and the same thing.

A leg severed, the soul stretched out, she rends into it, like the flesh is vanishing as it enters her mouth. She eats it all down and some of his soul and personality.

The water spikes turn from needles to blades almost, water pressure cutting the men up as she eats them piece by piece, the screams of their physical bodies subside to their screaming souls being sucked up and eaten too.

As if when she bites, it's merely torn to become part of her. Stored in an infinite nothing, and the translucent visible souls even to Browning, are torn apart, muffled as they're slurped up like pasta.

Until nothing is left and the water washes away the blood, a horrid vision to take in.

Ziatrix' eyes turning to Browning. The poor girl left with one feeling inside.

Full and Satisfied. Crouching down she places her hand to Browning's gut, a cool running water feeling seals her would and fixes her.

"Don't move...I will use their mass to mimic your body and fix what is broken."

Probably not.. the words one might wish to hear from the blood lips of a creature that horrendously just ate two men in both physical and soul ways.

Blast! They couldn’t go just yet!

The doll’s neural cloud raced, continuing to drain the vehicle of its fuel while the pair encroached upon their position. For the entirety of that night, they did well to collect fuel without arousing even the slightest suspicion. This was their second to last vehicle before they could call it for the night and retreat to the wilds outside the city limits. Hell, she would forget the last bit of fuel if she could at least drain what she could from this one.

That desperation would ultimately lead to what would happen next.

Browning, continuing to hold out as much as they could, banked on her ability to keep a low enough profile to avoid detection. And at first, it seemed to work. The strangers were more pre-occupied grabbing the bags out of the car to really look around. If they held long enough, maybe they’d-

Slump…thud!

Down came the doll, gracelessly fumbling as her hand slipped on spilled gas. She tumbled forward, knocking that can over as well…spewing the petrol she waited for all over that asphalt floor and upon herself. None of that went unnoticed, as well. The two men peered over to the doll laid upon the ground, fuel canister besides her, and put two in two together. The jig was up and there was gonna be hell to pay.

Browning quickly picked herself off the road, trying to get some footing once again. She didn’t want to include her partner-in-crime to this little exchange if she could help it. Be it for her sake or theirs, the doll wanted to at least try to resolve the situation diplomatically first. That was better said than done, however. Emotions flared, bickering occurred, commotion raised.

“I-I’m sorry! P-Please, I just needed the fuel for money…I-I don’t have any other place to go to and I need to make ends meet!”

She reflexively lied to obfuscate what her true intentions really were. Needless to say, the pair weren’t buying it. Not the reasons, anyone can make convincing reasons. No, they didn’t think that sob story was good enough excuse to absolve her of her sins.

“And what!? You think we’re swimming in cash, bitch!? Your thieving cunt-ass lost me a whole month of fuel!”

The conversation continued like that. Browning trying her best to defuse the situation by pleading for some kind of forgiveness while the pair only grew further agitated. They started to corral the doll into one of the many alleyways that peppered this part of town. It seemed like nothing was working on the doll’s front. Tensions flared until eventually, the situation escalated with a single stab right into the gut.

Browning eyes shot wide while her receptors shot signals into her neural cloud telling her exactly what had happened. Injured, nearly fatal to a human. Soon, pain simulations played out in her neural matrix, simulating just how painful it should feel to sell her human reaction. Something Zaitrix would so easily pick up on with their connection. All before the faintest gasp for air as the doll tumbled down once again.

[bisexualbaker]

A Secret Fifth Method (that maybe shouldn't be secret)

That poll on taking pills and such from the other day has got people comparing notes, and apparently the information I got isn't common knowledge or whatever?

See, my mom taught me that solid pills and tablets, you tilt your head back to swallow for best results; capsules, meanwhile, float, so when you take them with a drink, you tilt your head forwards to swallow them. From my understanding, the goal is to get them as close as you can to the back of your mouth for better swallowing.

So because the two different types of meds have different swallowing methods, and I take both, I don't take all of them in one go. (I mean, I don't even take all of my solid pills together, but I used to get heartburn from taking my meds the wrong way, so I'm inclined to take it easy with them when I can.)

Anyway, it probably doesn't work for everyone, but if you have trouble with pills and the like, it might be worth a shot.

[silveredsticks]

christmas eve ramble tags and some pictures of me and nice things from this year that i have randomly at 2:47am on christmas eve decided to post on tumblr. like why am I posting my face idek but I just felt reflective and i always just dump my rambles on whichever blog I'm using the most 🙈 i have not thought very hard about picking these. my motivation is that i want to force myself into acknowledging that for the majority of this year i felt good. I did good things for my health, and at work, and for my friends and family (even though I am desperate always to tell myself that i have never done anything good for anyone ever.) I found a new fun thing & lovely kind fun people to help me explore it. i got to sleep with my hand on/in Henry (cat not popstar) belly fur. yes i started having panic attacks about stuff to do w my dad, and money is tight (i mean i live in syd..) and i miss my mum and sara and i maybeee spent far too much time speaking to my ex fiance until he went on some rant about family law and I got the ick for once and for all lmao - but i was happy on many occasions.

[sternbagel]

Hi. If your boss (me) has said that something’s a part of your job and is your responsibility, and the boss leaves for the day, then it is still your responsibility and you must still do what your supervisor asks you to do.

[tonycries]

BUTTER

Synopsis. First time cúmming inside = first time losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, breéding, cúmplay, men whímpering, virgínity loss (Choso), overstím, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, GOJO’S POWERS, proposals, full nélson, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, p slápping, p talking, limitless, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Earned it.

“I-is she really tellin’ me to hah- f-fill her up inside, doll?” Toji breathes, dazed eyes locked down at your stuffed entrance. And he can barely focus his gaze - barely even try to sound like himself right now. “I-is this real?”

Ragged rasps just about half as ruined as he feels, lilting up in pitch. In strain. Sharp intakes of breath becoming so labored when his entire hulking body wracks with a heaving shiver. 

And Toji’s scrambling his thick fingers to latch roughly onto your face, your waist - anywhere and everywhere that might help him keep an ounce of his sanity.

But it was too late.

“Heh, did I hngh- fuck the rationality outta ya? You really want me t-to-” Head throwing back, he can’t even think of finishing his sentence. Of doing anything other than curling one set of fingers around your throat. Biceps flexing when he shoves you even harder onto all fours on the silken sheets, he cranes over to place a line of pretty pecks down your teary cheeks, panting, “Well…wh-whatever my girl wants- she gets, right?”

And he meant it.

Oh, he couldn’t even believe it. Toji had your pretty pussy overfilled with all of his thick, thorough inches - slamming his hips drunkenly against yours when you’d babbled to cum inside. Fuck, it’s so real.

And that’s all it takes for him to clamor up one of his staggeringly muscular thighs up onto the plushy bed. To messily slip and slide across the saturated puddle of your sweet, sweet dripping juices and press his foot down shamelessly on your head. Like he couldn’t get enough.

The new angle nestles his hefty cock disruptively, dredges of his sweltering hot precum splat! against every inch of your clingy cunt.

“Oh yeah- th-this is the stuff.” His dark, dewy eyes veer to the very back of his head, hissing when his achy cock expands open your gummy walls. Throbbing head swelling plumper to curve even deeper, “Let me- l-let me hear ya, ma-”

Your trembly fingers rake a reddened line down his calf. Gasping for air at the way the rotund end of his angry, strawberry-pink tip kisses against your g-spot so snugly. “W-wan’ it so badly- please.”

“Want what?” Toji’s teasing tone rumbles from behind, and he’s gyrating his hips ever-so-slightly slower. Making sure to draw out those wet, translucent glides down your tight channel, “Can’t- can’t hear you-”

Honestly, he had absolutely no idea whether it was because of your honeyed tone breaking out into the cutest of whimpers, or because Toji’s ears were popping. Swatting a wet smack! at your beading clit to get you to yelp, his drawling mouth moves all by itself. “Already asked- t-tell me now unless ya want me to cum outside-”

“No! No no no-” And that was all the threat it took to have you careening unsteadily onto your elbows, fully forgetting the mean restraint of Toji’s foot on top of you. “Please- need you to cum inside please-”

“Louder.”

You’re sneakily shivering your hips down every one of his rummaging inches. “Toji-”

“Ohhhh- my bad.” With a slight snicker, his tongue glissades a wet gloss down the very edges of his scar. Leaving rounded circular bruises at your bobbing throat just how harshly Toji was jostling you with the vice-like embrace, and you can only manage out a few sniffles when he drags by one strong arm to crash the recoil into his ruthless hips. Dangerously stopping you in your tracks. Humming, “Stop fuckin’ running, I w-was talkin’ to ya pretty pussy.”

Your bleary eyes snap open, “What–”

“Shhh, doll- stop whining so much–” he’s cooing in a syrupy slow cadence. “Jus’ needa- needa hear it from her.”

Slapping down his leaky cockhead along your sloppy hole every few strokes, having you drooling a glossy sheen down his thick shaft like you were painting him. So much of it that the dripping wet noises were resounding in Toji’s ears, dancing around his melty mind like his new favorite song. 

Oh, he loved to hear it. Over and over and-

“S-so soaked.” he’s groaning out like a mantra, darkened eyes grifting together. Mouth can all but lift his drunken maw slack open at every tightening clamp of your syrupy pussy, “You want me to cum inside this badly, doll?” 

And you feel your puffed-up pussy lips get even more soaked at the utter pussydrunk look on Toji’s usually smug-features. “Because I’ve been thinking about this e-ever since the day I met ya-” He’s craning over - hunching, more like.  Baring you with his most crazed gaze, “To breed ya- to fill you up ‘ntil you think you’re gonna hah burst. To make ya a pretty momma so-” Back muscles flexing, abs aching with fatigue, lips dragging a sopping wet kiss. “-please let me cum inside.”

Ah, who was Toji Fushiguro against you?

Because as soon as your head even dares to move within the inch of that half-delirious nod you send his way, Toji’s sopping your insides sloshing wet with his cum. For the first time. In awe. Load after load being fucked up into you - white flashes behind your eyes when you feel it knock against your womb, trickling down over your cervix.

And there’s so much of it.

“Gonna have yer g-gorgeous eyes-” he slurs, crushing you with his full body weight. “-n’ your smile fuck- my love for ya-” It won’t’ stop - Toji can’t stop, can’t reel back the weepy curving divot of his head. “M’thinking four- no- five.” Still oozing out a milky gloss even when he’s dragging his fat cock out of your hole. 

Still cumming. Smearing every nook and cranny of the sheet below white as he flips you around and plants a sudden smack! on your overspilling pussy, gushing out obscenely when Toji’s urgently bringing his face down, down, down.

“Oh. Fuckin’ delicious.” His eyes droop half-lidded at the heavenly sight - shit, he could get used to this. Mouth watering, his feverish breath wafts all over your sensitive pussy. “I earned this, didn’t I, ma?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Happy wife, happy life

“Ken-”

“...”

“Ken.”

But oh, Nanami Kento can’t even hear his pretty wife right about now. Can’t do anything but shove his greedy tongue down the ends of your sopping wet slit, pooling your syrupy juices all the way down to his throat.

In fact, the only response you’re being gifted with is a furious pull on his dangling work tie - barely even bothering to change out of it - to be able to swipe his nose down more freely in a long kiss down your puffy clit. More, more, more-

Keening, your fingers tangle into Nanami’s blond strands - tugging, dragging, but shit, he couldn’t - wont. It hurt for him to even think of pulling away. Roughened palms scissor past your folds, and he pants, “P-please- fuck- just a bit- more-”

He was addicted. Gone. 

“B-but Ken-” Couldn’t register anything past the way your voice was dipping into a whiny territory right now that made him twitch dangerously. That is, until- “Wan’ to cum w-with you- to have you ah- cum inside-”

Oh.

If you thought that Nanami was drunk on you before then you were completely unprepared for the way that singular babbling plea make him still. 

It makes him gasp, honeyed eyes widening, feverish breaths spilling out in heaving puffs of condensation - once, twice. Before your back is suddenly slamming down on the counter, legs splayed out shamefully by Nanami’s sturdy forearms, and your cunt-

Fuck, in a few split-seconds, you were being stuffed so thoroughly open. Nanami’s reddish cockhead springing down to gift a wet thwack! thwack! thwack! on your puffed-up clit, he’s swiping down the ends of your drooling lips. 

“I-inside?” he breathes, a few octaves higher than usual.

You’re nodding, your fingers twirling around his haphazard tie. “Inside.”

“Anything…” Nanami breathes, and he sounds like he doesn’t even know that he’s saying the words. Barely ripping his gaze from you to scramble for your left hand - before placing a sweet, sweet peck on that cool wedding band on your ring finger. “Anything f-for you, my love.”

You’re almost crying at that ruthless stretch of his globular tip poking at your insides, he’s caving in a way open - and even after so many years, you’ve never gotten used to how staggeringly big Nanami’s girth was. How his curved divot was steaming out a thick wad of precum that already made you feel so full.

Now, you two had discussed kids - but never acted upon it like this. This needy. This frenzied-

“Wh-whatever you want, y’know-” He’s humming depravedly into your mouth like a mantra,  thumbing past your pouty lips to spit into your mouth. And that very sight of those translucent splatters makes his hips stutter mindlessly, “Anything for you- anything for the future momma of my kids-”

Shit, you throw your head back as soon as he’s grazing two digits down the very hood of your neglected clit - only for Nanami to jostle your head over his hands.

“C-careful-” he murmurs, hand dipping down to massage your neck. Your shoulders - all while his fat cock was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. “-don’t wan’ you to hurt your- hah-self, darling. S’not good f-for the-”

Baby.

Nanami doesn’t think he can even bear to say that simple word right about now. 

Risking losing whatever’s left of his sanity, he’s wrapping one beefy arm around your middle to crush your body to his. And before you know it, you’re being hastily jostled off of the counter and dangled midair - all while your gentle husband barely even breaks a sweat. Utilizing the lewd properties of gravity to let you bounce down onto his long length and back upwards. His voice cracks, “-baby.”

“Ah-” your trembly hands wrap their way around his neck, giving Nanami the perfect angle to pepper peck after sultry peck onto your bouncing tits. “D-don’t hah- drop me, Ken, m’kay?”

Drop you?

Drop you?

God, he lets out a slight chuckle at the very thought. Angling to rut his inches even deeper upwards, every tiny massage of your elastic walls around his painful cock makes Nanami nod. So fervently that stray strands stick to his prespired forehead. Such a pretty mess of your sensible husband. “Mhm- w-won’t drop you, I swear- I swear-”

Hips speeding up in such a sloppy way now, but even how you’re tightening his tie won’t make Nanami stop - slow down.

“Promise?”

Slowly, his dribbling cock gushes out even in even more velvety ribbons, you’re watching in such delirious awe at the way those delicate strings of slick and spit stretch all down his pinkish shaft. 

“Promise-” he groans, feeling light-headed. Heavy balls thwacking in a sticky staccato against your ass. Fingers gliding up, up, up to where he was nudging your sensitive g-spot, bruising out his circumference on all your sensitive areas. Kiss after French kiss into your gooey heaven. He presses down. “-gonna f-fill you up right here- won’t miss. Swear I won’t m-miss-”

And he doesn’t.

God, he grows sullenly quiet to hear all those delicious squelches the very moment Nanami’s steaming hot cum is spilling into you. Warming you from the very insides- and your own orgasm has you seeing stars. 

Sloshing around in his favorite little swivels, he can’t help but let his hips gyrate slowly to feel it coat a creamy gloss down his sensitive cock. To feel your tiny whimpers and whines when his seed dredges down your womb. Drip! drip! dripping onto the kitchen tile in an echoing splatter from your slobbery slit. 

You leave a wet peck at the ends of his curled lips, “W-wan’ keep it all inside, Ken- all of it-”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

“M’gonna marry you all over again- s-swear and- and…” And just then, he shudders so violently that you fear for a split-second, legs around his toned waist tightening. “-o-oh, my love- m’gonna cum again.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “U-use me.”

“I-I’m so close-”  Geto finds it in himself to grit his teeth, to force his jittery fingers up to pinch your plump clit. “-gonna cum- fuck, s-stop riding me, honey- unless ya want me to fill you up heh-”

It’s said so low and sultry and even through your hazy mind, you know that it’s a simple tease coming from your boyfriend. You know that he didn’t mean anything by it - but that certainly doesn’t stop the way that your hands grasp around his shoulders, knocking your heads into a messy French kiss. “But, I want you to, Sugu.”

Oh. 

Geto Suguru can’t hide the way his chest heaves with a choked-up moan, how his head throws to the very back of his silken pillowcases when his hips rut upwards into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he was out of control. Ears ringing with the words, it takes the cult leader below you every shred of will in his entire body to groan out, “D-don’t joke like that- fuck- gonna give me a heart attack, y’know-”

“M’not joking.”

Shit, his eyes widen. Straying down to where your puffy pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, swallowing up every greedy inch that you were being drilled with. Throat dry, every sound that comes out of him now is painfully raspy, “Y-you fuckin’ mean it? Better not be fuck- talking outta this naughty-” Swat! Coming down to kiss a punishing smack against the edges of your drooling cunt. “-pussy.”

You couldn’t fake the way that makes you glissadingingly drenched even if you wanted to. Nails raking down Geto’s curvaceous pecs to steady your stuttering hips, your bounces grow frantic. 

“Please- c-cum inside-” begging. Maybe you were cockdrunk already, pouting in a way that has his hefty, cum-filled balls squeezing. “Jus’ want you all inside-”

And when Geto thinks back to this situation, he doesn’t know how he was ever supposed to stand a chance. Because with a gasping ricochet of his fat, curved cock onto your most precious g-spot, he’s surging stringy wads of seeds that trickles down your inner thigh. Cumming and cumming so hard - it’s never felt this good - that he almost forgets it’s too early.

That is, until you’re gasping a soft “Baby, did you-”

“Sh-shut up-” And you swear your big, strong boyfriend whimpers. He’s furiously blinking away those glittery globular tears at the ends of his eyes. A tiny pout smeared across his rosy pink lips when you’re being flipped.

One hand around your throat, the other plugging back creamy dredge after dredge into your drooling cunt. Almost as if it was offensive to him to catch that syrupy drizzle, he’s making such a fucking mess. 

“Such a filthy girl- n’ a filthy cunt-” He sputters out, and Geto felt like he was burning a bright red blush all down his pretty features. Matching the angry way your hips were being slammed into his, “Think you s-sooo fuckin’ fuck- fuck fuck fuck-”

And shit, he can’t even finish his sentence before those moans are petering out into speechlessness. A singular tight squeeze of your gummy walls encircles his hot girth. And it’s enough to make him whine, “Please- fuck, how are you doing this-”

Sounding so genuinely in disbelief, you watch as Geto’s mouth drops lewdly at the way every pearlescent bead of his cum was directed towards your cunt. Seeping out through the edges of your sopping lips.

You’re giggling in a drunken way that makes him flinch, “S-something wrong, Sugu?”

“Don’t-” he bares you with a feral grin. Heavy limbs throwing apart your limp legs to jostle his hips into you even harder, and it’s like Geto was spearheading into your lungs. Swiping up translucent wet splatters of his fat head in delicious drags down your spongy cervix. Hissing that even the slightest bit of recoil had him parting from the melty depths of your pussy. “-don’t call m that ‘nless you want me to- oh-” His dewy eyes roll to the back of his head, leaving another unapologetic smack! on your peaked clit. “-t-too late. M’gonna cum- fuck fuck fuck- n’ s’all your fault-”

“Awww–” Teasingly, your fingers drag through his long curtain of hair, scratching lightly at Geto’s scalp in a way that makes him purr. “-how can I hah- make it up to you, Sugu?”

The only thing he wanted right now was to cum inside you again. Once more. Twice. Thrice. Again and again and-

“Use me-” Geto gasps, and he’s careening his head down for what you assumed would be one of his favorite messy kisses - only to wrap those pinkish lips around your tongue and suck. “Use me use me- ohh please, use me- honey- make me a daddy. D-don’t even care anymore-”

And when he cums, Geto’s filling your already sloshingly drenched cunt with heavy loads of his seed. Sticky and honeyed enough that it’s next to impossible for him to pull out and sheath his rock-hard dick unforgivingly into your pussy. 

One of the biggest threats to jujutsu society - whimpering when he spews out a stream of wet swears into your open-mouth, shivering at every one of your milking clamps to drag out something delicious from him. 

He’s curling his hulking body into yours, dripping fingers glistening all the way down to Geto’s wrist with just how much of his loads he’d shoveled all the way back inside your cunt. Giving your sloppy hole a languid circle around the diameter with his slender fingers, before popping them into his mouth. 

And Geto can only see stars behind his eyes, he can only moan at the taste, “I think…” Peaking out a hazy eye at your squirming figure - where the hell did you think you were going? He’s hypnotized, dragging you back into his clutches with a hand curled prettily around your throat. “-that w-we’re not done until m’cumming b-blanks, honey.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marry you…

One swipe - just one swipe of Choso’s fattened, blushing red tip down your slit is all that it takes for his stupidly pussydrunken eyes to run to the back of his head. For his drooling mouth to slack open with all the utter need of a virgin, “Please-”

You’re humming through your moans, arching your body just right for him to feed you more and more of his half-flaccid inches. “Tell me what you want, baby-”

Fuck, he’s winking open his eyes to peer down at you. Hands traveling their way to roughly jostle your pliant body into one of the meanest mating presses you’d never thought your dear inexperienced best friend possible.

“N-noo–” Choso’s whining, pressing wet pecks down your lips. “Don’t call me that, baby- or else m’gonna…”

Choso’s handsome cheeks burn a shameful red when his eyes drift down to the gooey splatters of cum smeared along your stomach from not too long ago. Just the prospect of being able to put it in too much for his fried brain to handle.

And you’re finding your fingers darting across the glossy sheen sticking to your skin, bringing those drippingly wet digits up, up, up for Choso to gladly wrap his lips around. Sucking. 

“But I want you to, Cho–” Watching as his eyes widen, mouth dropping into a soft oh! Your voice drops into such a hum that makes his swollen tip twitch startlingly. “Want you to c-cum inside m-”

Shit, he doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence - and he doesn’t want to. 

Not unless Choso wants to make an even bigger fool of himself in front of his pretty best friend that oh-so-kindly suggested taking away his virginity. Not like there’s anyone else he’d even dream of giving it to.

Thick, sculpted thigh hiking up, he’s slamming his hefty cockhead down until your swollen folds were kissing up in a sweet, sweet pucker against his thick hilt. Grinding in slow, sultry gyrations upwards like he still wanted to stuff you with more, more, more- 

“I-I can can cum inside?” Forehead beading with sweat, lower lip wobbling with the sheer effort that it took to merely hold back the way that his achingly hard cock was straining for release once more. Hissing at the almost sizzling drag of precum down your bulging g-spot. “For my first time? Inside? R-really inside?”

And despite the way that he was so patiently waiting for your answer, Choso couldn’t help the way the greedy curve of his thumb swipes down your peaked clit. Rolling in lazy circles - low, and slow to make your gummy walls clench in that particular way he’s slowly gotten addicted to. 

You’re nodding with a smug smile at how pretty he looked all fucked-out like this. Darkened eyes all droopy and half-lidded like he was blinking through syrup, muscles twitching mouth-wateringly, hair browner than usual with his sweat-dampened streaks. You can’t help but wring your fingers through his locks and tug, in a way that makes him hiss. In a way that makes him gasp. 

In a way that has him spurting out a thicker stream of precum into your gooey cunt - close. So close. “Mhm– let it a-all out inside, baby.”

Oh god, and then he does-

He does and Choso’s sure he sees the pearly gates of heaven right then and there, and he knows you’re his very own angel.

“Move your pretty fingers, baby– I wan’ you to t-take it all-” It’s not even mean the way he swats away one of your hands subconsciously cupping your split pussy - it’s just desperate. So that he can place pound after filthy pound to fuck you into the soaked sheets. 

Whining out, “Yeah please- fuck-”  Snapping his flexible body down until you were folded helplessly in half, every languid second is spent with such velvety ropes of cum being stuffed down to the bottom of your pussy. “Wan’ this forever- forever please-” Thick, stringy wads that stick and slide down your walls - that overspills when it’s too much for your snug channel to take. “W-want this…”

And just one look of his greedy gazy downwards And Choso’s gasping like he couldn’t even believe he could cum this much - couldn’t even believe he could stop at this point.

“Marry me-” he’s sputtering, eyes clearer with the sudden idea. As if he’s imagining it already. Hips shifting to lazy down his sloppy staccato into something more thorough. “B-be my wife- have my kids- please-” Something that has your toes curling with pleasure, branding every ridge and thumping vein down his shaft into your walls contorting around him. Hiccuping - little sobs curling at the back of his throat, “Please- please I need you to marry me-” 

It’s overspilling - adding to that little milky pool from below. He’s barely even thinking before swiping a hand through some of those creamy remnants of cum. Sucking. Taking your own - popping that ring finger of yours into his mouth.

Drool drips down the side of his sodden lips, moving to mewl softly. “D-did that really just happen?”

The words come out nothing but a whisper, strangled and strained from the very depths of his rumbling chest. And Choso’s peering down at you like you were everything - his softening cock sending sparks down his spine with every slight rub down your sopping wet folds. 

“Mhm–” your hands make their way down his pecs, rubbing over pert, pink nipples. Something that makes him let out a low shudder, reddened divot bursting in a few more wispy strings of seed. “N’ you did so hngh- good, Cho.”

“D-did I? Was I your oh- good boy?” he stutters, before letting out a keening pout. “B-but I need to have you cum, too, baby- need to have you cum-” And you’re so at his ravenous mercy when Choso swipes a wet thumb over and over down your throbbing clit. “-and then- then can we get married?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MESS!

“What the fuck-” The king of curses breathes - he heaves - like never before, even in that human form of his right now. “Wh-what the fuck have you done to me, woman-”

And all the foes in the world had nothing against your honeyed whines. Absolutely no match for the way your elastic walls were clinging around his throbbing cock so tight. No match for your cockdrunk babbling that drove him insane.

“Such a filthy mouth you h-have-” he groans, leering over his inhumanly powerful body to bend over yours. You’re gaping when one of his big, beefy arms jostle you upwards into a headlock. Even shapeshifted from his true form, he was still so strong. Spitting, “Do you dare to- fuck- move those pretty lips of yours n’ repeat those words back to me, brat.”

As if you could do anything else. 

“I-I said-” you’re choking out, panting in feverish gasps of the heady air. “-said I want you to c-cum inside-”

Oh. 

In a split-second, you’re feeling your tautly stretched walls expand to limits you weren’t even sure were possible. The very bottom of your pussy being ravaged with two circular brandings - two. Two matching rock-hard cocks jostling around you. 

And the stretch of Sukuna’s devilishly true form opening your cunt to its very limits is so maddening that it takes you a second to realize that the rest of him had shapeshifted, too. 

Suddenly bigger, suddenly more towering, suddenly the king of curses. 

His strong forearm curls even tighter around your throat, knocking the remaining gasps out of your lungs. “Seriously? L-look where talking outta ya slutty pussy hah- got me-” Sukuna chuckles. Deep and rumbling from his bulging pecs, “-c-can’t even hold a n-normal form- you made me do this- fuck-”

He was fucking you like it was your fault.

Solid inches upon inches that were bruising. And if you thought that Sukuna’s size was staggering in whatever human form he’d conjured up for the safety of your poor pussy - it was absolutely incredible with both his twin girthy cocks. Bigger, thicker. The slightest ruts and grinds into your gushing cunt having him knocking into your lungs, painting down a hefty load of steamy precum. 

Messy.

“Messy-” you hear a primal rumble from above you. Shit, did you say that out loud? Condensed breath heady and hot against your ear, “Heheh- you think this is m-messy, lil’ human? Wait until I-I- hah-”

“Y-you’re really gonna cum inside, Kuna?” you’re batting your teary lashes up at your king, a delirious smile smearing itself all over your face. 

Wobbling when his snapping hips purposefully slow down to mere gyrating squelches, every push and pull feeding your slobbery pussy languidly. You have him hypnotized, maw slacking open with every lazy drag of his heavy cocks back and forth back and forth back and- “Mhm- gonna fill ya up. Breed ya u-until you’re begging that ya can’t take it. Until y-you’re all round n’ glowing with my heirs.”

God. He was out of control.

“I-I can take it-” Your nails rake airily down his ever-tightening forearm - nothing but mere kitten scratches to Sukuna. “Promise Kuna- I can-”

“Tch- this damn naughty m-mouth of yours.” he smirks in a sleazy way - just about all that Sukuna can do to not let his voice break out in whimpers right now. All he can do to hold back his building high, curvaceous tips of his thickened cocks spazzing out tight, voluminous globs of wispy white. He’s covering your prattling mouth with one hand, “Take it then- take it- but ya better make an equal mess f’me. Heh-”

Even through your bleary mind, you already knew what he wanted - to have you squirt all down Sukuna’s weepy cocks. To make a mess. 

Always his favorite.

“Th-think ya can do that?” He snarls down at you, twiddling a few sopping wet digits to toy with your pulsing clit. Third and fourth arms snaking around your waist to keep from your pathetic scrambling. To stop your escape when his hips jackhammer away harder. “Can you- my queen?”

Oh, he cuts himself off with a whimper.

Because all of a sudden your gushing cunt is surging out in waves of translucent slick. It sticks to his rubbing cocks - and all the way to his washboard abs -like a gloss, stars behind your eyes when Sukuna’s fucking you through your high. Praises slipping out in a way that would’ve tarnished the king’s reputation if anyone found out.

But right now, he didn’t care. 

Not when he’s all but bursting from his bawling tips - such thick rivers of cum that knock mercilessly into your gummy spots. The force of both his fat heads streaming out relentlessly is enough to leave your forbidden sweet spots all bruised and battered. 

Inflating your snug channel until Sukuna only had to slide a hand down to about halfway down your abdomen, pressing down at that nudge. “Heh, s’right at h-home-” 

And now that he’s filled your pretty pussy with seed, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t think it’s possible to cum anywhere else. With a shuddering hiss, he’s dragging his cocks out, spying down with hooded eyes at the way your sloppy entrance was molding and constrictign around him - like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

But Sukuna had other plans - plans that included letting his second tongue loll out, rough tastebuds sweeping a long lick down your leaky slit. Creamy cum trickling down the pinkish muscle, and he could feel his mouth grinning. Something he’s been wanting to do since he moment he fucking saw you.

“H-hey-” you’re turning your head to huff back at him. 

Smack!

“Ahh, stop yer whining-” Sukuna’s smoothing one hand down over the raised bumps of all five digits on your ass, another one of his hands guiding his fat bases to drive up your sopping crease. Pooling the milky remnants on his rotund tips. “-because m’not done breeding this cunt properly yet, my queen.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Limit(less)

“This time-” Gojo’s heaving out a dragging shudder, his face burying hotly within the tender crook of your neck. Spitting - panting, “This time this time- this- time-”

Oh, it’s been just about the same thing that he’s been babbling for the past few hours now. All that he can utter after so long of his sensitively overworked cock stuffing in and out over your overspilling cunt, flickers of jujutsu bolting with every sodden drag down your melty walls.

Truly, the strongest didn’t expect to be addicted the first time he filled your drooling pussy with thick globs of his seed - it was an accident, the first trial of trying to use limitless for its…unintended purposes. 

But right now, Gojo had absolutely no clue if this was the nth trial or whether he was simply addicted to breeding your pretty cunt.

“T-Toru–” Your fingers scramble backwards to bury in his snow locks - difficult, with the way that your boyfriend was wrangling you into a tight full nelson. Feeling the push and pull of thick cursed technique in the air - inside you. “-s’not gonna work.”

God, just the sear of your grip on his scalp is enough to have Gojo’s hips rutting up in a perfect curve off the plush king-size mattress. Fucking up into your cunt so thoroughly that you gasp at the syrupy slosh of his cum from before inside you. 

His hiccups, voice cracking into a whine at the very end. “D-do you hate me, sweetheart?”

“No?” you’re breathing out in exasperation. But shit, you underestimate just how crazed this tiniest sentiment would drive him, choking back a strangled cry of your name when he’s sending a buzzing smack! down to the hood of your plump cunt. “Fuck- why would you think-”

“Th-then let me use limitless as a- hah- condom, pretty girl-” he’s whining. And you jolt at the wet splatters of a few stimulated, pearlescent tears slipping their way out of Gojo’s eyes. “It’ll work- this time- m’the strongest- s’gonna hah- w-work- a-and if not m’jus’ breedin’ my girl’s cute cunt, r-right?”

But even as he’s prattling on and on about this, you’re feeling the flickering falter of jujutsu around Gojo’s hefty girth. Molding your gummy walls taut around his fat circumference, your spine arches with electricity. 

“Heheh-” Goosebumps prickle down your spine at the high, humorless bout of laughter at your ear - and you crane your head to look at Gojo. Sure that he’s lost it. Already wondering just how high the kill count would be. “-didn’t think th-this pretty pussy of yours would have me so ruined, sweetheart.”

And truly - he sounded like it. 

He looked like it, with his rosy lips ajar, those cerulean eyes watery and half-lidded. Glowing with power and tiny shivers of lighting at every sodden kiss to the bullseye of your g-spot. Clashing over and over in a wet push and pull, Gojo thinks that he could almost feel the rotund indentations of his curved tip right on your sweetest spots. 

“Looks like y-you’re the one ruining me- Toru-” you whine. “Just look-”

Drunkenly, Gojo’s lolling his head to the sound of your voice. Not even looking, barely even thinking - that is, until he sees.

And Gojo can’t help but let out a slew of honeyed, pathetically cracking profanities at the heavenly sight below. Pale forearms stretching out your trembly thighs even more shamefully wide to get an even closer look. 

Of your quivering hole winking up at him glisteningly, coating his fat hilt a creamy ring of white from so many of his failed attempts. Your saturatedly wet pussy lips were practically gulping up all of his heavy inches, slobbering a slow trail of drool down the side of his strawberry pink shaft and onto his twitchy balls. Needy. 

And if Gojo’s limitless protection was unsteady before then-

“Shit-” Gojo takes in a shuddering gasp, slender digits falling down to plant a wet smack! on the very middle of your bulging slit - as if all of this was your fault. “Shit shit shit shit- I-I can’t- oh-” Sharp canines sinking down so hard into your skin that you think he might break through. Just about all that’s keeping Gojo tethered to reality when his limitless shatters. “Oh god. Th-think s’gonna be another b-baby…”

All the way into a zillion pieces of nothingness and-

And then he’s cumming. 

Cumming so hard that the dim lamps by the side of your bed flickers. Then explodes. 

Pouring out such steaming hot piles of his cum - once. Twice. Before his swollen, overwhelmed balls are clenching and then he’s shooting nothing but pathetic blanks. 

It takes you a second to register the sudden darkness - all across Tokyo, in fact. You’re gasping, “O-oh, Toru did you-”

“Run out-” he’s giggling. Giggling. “Fuck you m-made me- hah- really milked me dry, didn’t ya- Spread those pretty legs a bit more, pretty girl. Let me see.” All five rounded pads of his fingers are bruising on your thigh when Gojo’s splaying them out to confirm the sputtering way his cock was driving into you. “Can’t- can’t believe- no way, baby m’supposed t-to fill you up-”

Shit, he was babbling out his true intentions so stupidly. But luck was on his side, because with a final, jujutsu-sheened swat at your cunt, the buzzing power finally sends you over the edge. 

Crashing headfirst into waves upon waves of white-hot pleasure, the engulfing goodness made you squeal. And it made Gojo grit his teeth with a low whimper at the way the simple clenching convulse of your gripping walls wrapped around his cock made him twitch in another dry orgasm. Another. And another. 

God, his first - well, not quite first - time cumming inside you and he’s already so fucked out.

Yet, despite it all, Gojo could almost count it a success…almost. 

“S-sweetheart, y’know Yaga always taught us that science experiments have hah- twenty-five trials, right?”

“...”

A/N. Gojo’s so annoying I love him.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[euthymiya]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”