#but not human enough that there’s something off. they don’t quite fit in and they always felt on the outside looking in

[echojedis]

How do people do OCs, I can never get them to click properly

[elixirfromthestars]

Sink Your Teeth In Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning(s): spooky fun vibes / smut / fluff / female reader / mutual pining / love bites / dirty talk / unprotected sex / pet names / 18+ mdni / sprinkles (who am I kidding it might be a little more than just sprinkles) of possessive Bucky / breast play / a tiny moment of drinking / smut with little plot

Prompt(s): human (vampire costume) / treat (fluff, smut) / neighbor / “Why are you looking at me like that?” + “Spread them. Further.” + “You’re pretty like that.” + “There you go. Doing so good for me.” ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

a/n: uhhhhh this is what happens when you let me write while on medication post surgery lol please ignore how late this is, your girl was going through it 😭 This is for @buck-star ‘s Trick or Treat fun 🎃🧡 Also based on this ask she sent me, so this is for you Sydney 🤭🧡. I hope you all enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ❤️🦇❤️

vampire divider ♡ // main masterlist ♡ // bucky masterlist ♡

You’ve heard all the superstitions about the full moon before. The way it seemingly makes people act strangely—far from themselves. The word lunatic and lunacy are tied to the moon as well, having been believed to incite mania in people. An unrecognizable version of themselves whose impulses bordered on primal. Tonight was no exception to such superstitions as the full moon hung high in the sky on Halloween. Promising to pull the sentiments from the deepest depths of each person out into the open. 

However, in this instance, an argument could be made that the moon was not at fault for how your pulse quickened or how your heart hammered in your chest. No, not even if the moon’s glow reflected in Bucky’s eyes so beautifully that they resembled a pair of sapphires staring right back at you. Freezing you to your spot right outside his door. 

The moon was also certainly not telling you to push Bucky into his home and crash your lips onto his until your lungs begged for air. No, oh no, that was all you. 

“You here to drive a stake through my heart, doll?” Bucky’s playful tone broke you from your trance, biting his bottom lip as he held back a smug grin. A flicker of something bewitching crosses his eyes as they search yours for an answer. 

You shifted on your feet, mortification prickling your skin as you collected yourself. “I might if you don’t keep those fangs to yourself,” you quip, tapping his chest with the fake wooden stake in your hand, trying to disperse the attention away from the way you had ogled Bucky. You wouldn’t say you had a thing for vampires, but his costume was giving him this mystic allure that was fueling an unspoken desire you had been harboring for him since you met half a year ago.

Bucky’s vampire costume was far from the cheesy kind you could find at any corner pop-up Halloween store—it was quite the opposite. Bucky dawned on a crisp white dress shirt underneath a black vest that wrapped around his torso—emphasizing his broad build. A few buttons on the shirt were undone, revealing just enough skin to make your eyes wander. His black trousers fit his legs as if they had been tailored perfectly to their length. His velvet cape was an onyx color with a deep crimson lining that swayed behind him at every movement. To top it off, a pair of fangs poked out from his smile that sent a shiver down your spine from their playful danger. 

He certainly looked the part of a vampire—dreamily menacing in the best way. 

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, his eyes glinting mischievously as he winks at you, “Don't worry, doll. I won’t bite unless you ask me nicely.” His words bore a hint of a promise that caused your heart to skip a beat. Flirting with him wasn’t unusual—you’ve been doing it since you became neighbors—despite that, tonight, it felt different.

You let out a sound between a snort and a laugh—pushing away the heat that wants to spark itself into a flame, “I’ll pass on the biting, thanks, but I would appreciate a drink before we head out.” Your words are punctuated with an expression he can never say no to. 

When Bucky is met with your soft eyes and sweet smile, that appeals to him like no other—there’s no way he can say no. He opens the door wider for you to step inside, welcoming you into his home with a passing comment that he could use a drink too. You walk in with a familiarity as if the home were your own. Which—if you asked Bucky—it might as well be. You spend so much time here he’d go so far as to say this was more your place than his.

He didn’t mind that. On the contrary, this place hadn’t felt like home until you came into his life. Since you started coming around, these four walls transformed with your presence—traces of you woven into every corner. The stray hair ties that lay scattered throughout the rooms, a few of your sweaters in his closest in exchange for stealing some of his, the cat mug you claimed as yours, and your latest read left unfinished on his coffee table to be picked up and continued while he cooked dinner for you two on his nights off. All these little things and more made his house warmer, fuller, and undeniably a home. Turning this space into something he longed to come back to every night. 

You close his front door and follow him to his kitchen, the butterflies in the pit of your stomach not going away. Not that they ever did in his presence, but on some days it was easier to ignore the fluttering. 

Today would not be that kind of day. 

He reaches up into his cupboards, taking out two crystal glasses while idly chatting about the Halloween party Sam was throwing. You weren’t listening, mind elsewhere as you attempted to distract the inappropriate thoughts away, simply watching as he promptly poured out two servings of wine. He handed one to you, his hand brushing against yours at the motion—sending a jolt of electricity through it. You grip the glass a little tighter than you should and hastily take a sip. 

You would definitely need more than one drink. 

“Are you even listening, doll?” Bucky was staring at you with an amused expression, wine glass hovering at his lips as he called out your inattentiveness. Your attention gets brought back to his mouth which no longer hosts the fake fangs. He had removed them so as to not stain them with the wine. 

When had he done that? How long had the passage of time escaped you?

A warmth found its way to your face, trying to hide behind the crystal glass in your hand. Bucky knew you weren’t listening to him and his only theory as to why was clued in by the fact that your gaze continued to drift to his lips. 

“Huh? Oh, I was—it’s just…” you trail off trying to find an excuse, but when you can’t find one—or at least one you can tell him—you concede. “Sorry, what did you say?” He leans against the counter at your question, a smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes darken ever so slightly, as he ponders how far he can take the flirting tonight. 

“I said you look good, doll. I really like your costume,” he repeats his unheard compliment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your form. You gulp the rest of the wine in your cup—the spark of tension reigniting. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from how the black lacy gothic corset top hugged your breasts perfectly, and the matching leather pants clung to you like a second skin—leaving nothing to the imagination. And to Bucky’s added torture, you decided to strap a leather harness to your thighs that he had to resist the urge to grasp by the straps and pull you flush against his frame so you could feel how hard you made his—

Bucky stopped himself from letting his mind wander to places that would cause all of his blood to rush south. 

You looked down at your costume, not thinking much of it when putting it together. When Bucky told you he was dressing up as a vampire you thought it would be fitting to dress up as a vampire hunter. You were on a budget though, so between your closet and thrifting you came up with the outfit you’re wearing now. 

“Thanks, Bucky. You definitely did a better job though,” you compliment him, thinking that if anyone deserved praise for their costume—it was him. Bucky shakes his head, taking another sip of his wine, “Not me. Sam. He’s dressing up as a twenties mobster, so he let me borrow his costume from last year. Apparently, he goes all out every Halloween.” 

“Does he? Can’t wait to see how the party turned out then,” you comment, your nerves over meeting his friends for the first time bubbling its way into your system. Bucky gives you a small smile, the sight easing your anxieties ever so slightly, “Speaking of which—we should probably head out now. The party starts soon and Sam’s due to blow up my phone any second now,” he grumbles, finishing off the rest of his wine. A single deep red droplet runs down the corner of his mouth. Your fingers itch to wipe it off, but instead his tongue darts out to catch it—licking his lips in the process. A soft intake of breath was heard from you, an instinctive response to what he had done. The subtle sound revealing more than words ever could. 

There’s a shift in the air—it’s inevitable—you both feel it. 

The space between you is now charged, the kitchen feeling smaller and yet the space between you two, too far apart. Bucky’s eyes shine with a gentle intensity as he saunters over to you. Delicately towing at the lines you both wish to cross tonight. 

Your eyes search his for his intentions the closer he gets. Trying to decipher what you can as his left arm reaches out behind you to grab his keys—momentarily caging you. Your lower back presses against the counter, heart stuttering in your chest as the scent of cedar and spice from his cologne encases you.

“Yeah we should…” you swallow hard, voice barely audible as your eyes lock on his lips, the wine having stained them a deep crimson color. Resembling that of a vampire’s after they’ve feasted on the blood of another. A rich shiver makes its way down your spine—one he easily catches. This emboldens him, his own eyes travel down your face and then further down to observe the way your breasts strain against the corset.

Bucky was tempted to sink his teeth, and something else, into you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you found your voice somewhere between the longing that plagued you and the urge to pull him closer.

“Like what, doll?” 

“Like you’re seconds away from changing everything between us.” 

When those words leave your lips, Bucky knows there’s no point in denying it. “Maybe because I am,” he responds in a low murmur, before wasting not another second and crashing his lips against yours. His hands finding purchase at your hips and giving a light squeeze. Your lips part in a soft gasp at the sensation, his touch kindling the craving you’ve had for him from the moment you stepped foot into his house. Your hands find their way to his robe, the velvet soft underneath your fingertips as you pull him closer, wanting to leave no space for air between you. 

Bucky’s on the verge of losing his mind with your body pressed so close to his. His tongue prods gently at your mouth seeking entrance—something you eagerly give. When your tongues tangle you let out a soft moan that teeters on a whimper and it stirs something deep in his gut. He so desperately wants to pull more sounds out of you, but he needs to know you want this as much as he does. 

He pulls away from the kiss momentarily, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your hands relax and let go of his robe to rest against his chest instead. Savoring the way oxygen finds its way into your lungs again. 

“Tell me to stop and I will…” Bucky swallows hard as he says this. His mind reeling as he tries to calm the tightness in his pants. You shake your head, “I won’t. I want this, Bucky. I want you,” to assure him of your words, you pull him in by the loops of his dress pants, rolling your hips slowly against his bulge causing him to hiss at the pleasure. 

“Fuck, doll. The things you do to me.” 

“Show me.”

Your plea makes Bucky throw all hesitation out the window. Grabbing onto the straps of the harness at your thighs to press you into him and grind against you—groaning at the friction. You reach up and card your fingers through his hair to pull him down for another searing kiss. Your mouths moving with a sense of urgency and purpose. Needing to make up for all those days you only let yourselves flirt and never truly gave in to what you really wanted. 

The spark of desire bursts into embers as the intensity of the kisses increases—tongues dancing, teeth clashing, and your breaths entwined as you lose yourselves to the taste of one another. Every inch of your skin titilating in anticipation for Bucky’s touch. It’s evident you both need more, so Bucky snakes his hands down to cup your ass, hiking you up and around his waist to carry you over to the nearest surface. 

“You’re. So. Goddamn. Beautiful,” Bucky punctuates every word with nips to your jawline as he places you on the granite island. Your fingers brush past the edge of something plastic as you steady yourself on the cool surface. Your eyes reflexively look over and see the fake fangs Bucky had on earlier. Your remember the way they looked on him and your mind wanders to what his own teeth can do.

“Bite me,” the words slip out before you register how demanding they may sound. A deep rumble resonates from Bucky as he laughs at the way you said it. He removes himself from your jawline to get a good look at you—his cock twitching at the sight of you. 

Your chest heaved with exertion from all the air Bucky stole from you, your breasts threatening to spill out from your corset—lips swollen and pupils blown wide with desire. Knowing that this was your reaction to his kisses, to his touch, to him before you’ve even gotten to the main part—Bucky had to stop himself from coming undone then and there knowing he had such an effect on you. 

“Didn’t I say you had to ask nicely, doll?” he mocks playfully, eliciting a needy whine from you. The sound goes straight to his dick as it painfully aches to be inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold out much longer, as much as he’s enjoying the kisses. 

“Spread them. Further,” Bucky mutters the command into your lips, his hands sliding up your legs. You oblige his request, giving him more space to settle between your thighs. Your fingers thread through his hair as he trails open-mouthed kisses down to your pulse point—nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Bucky relishes in the soft whines and whimpers that leave you whenever he bites down just enough to hit the bliss point between pain and pleasure—soothing any remaining sting with his tongue. He catches the way your nipples harden underneath your corset—pressing against the fabric—making him crave a taste. 

“Gonna mark you up pretty girl—everywhere,” the low murmur of a promise is sealed into your skin, teeth grazing your neck delicately as he holds off on marking you there for the time being. His fingers hastily unhook the clasps of your corset, your breasts spilling out. He cups them in his hands, kneading the soft flesh while you moan copiously. Bucky greedily swallows every single one. 

His head dips down to pepper kisses across the valley of your breasts before dragging his tongue across one hardened nipple—teasing you as your breathing grew ragged. Your chest arches into him, moaning out his name as he moves to the other breast. Taking the unkissed bud into his mouth and sucking on it with a hunger that borders on savage.

“I know I said bite me, but watch those teeth.” 

“I’ll be good, doll. I’ll be real good to you.” 

He chuckles against your breast, causing delicious vibrations that send shivers down your spine. He moves over to the other nipple, giving it a playful nip that causes you to hiss out a watch it. He laughs again, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he continues to worship your breasts. The pleasure shoots straight to the throbbing between your legs, your underwear dampening. 

Nimble fingers find their way to his dress shirt and vest where you do your best to unbutton as much as you can, needing to see and touch more of him. You run your fingers down the hard planes of his chest and abs—your touch leaving heat in its wake. Bucky continues to lavish attention to your sensitive buds, his lips swirling and sucking the peaks insatiably. 

When his lungs burn for air he reluctantly releases your nipple with a wet pop—pulling away to see the evidence he’s left on your skin. “Mmm, you’re pretty like that doll—all marked up by me,” his fingers trailing and tracing over the marks he’s left on your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His thumb brushing over them with feather-like touches as an almost affectionate gesture. Your body shudders at the possessive gleam in his eyes—one that only intensifies the more his gaze lingers on your skin. 

You’ve never seen him look at you like this before—and you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Bucky…please…I need more of you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” 

As if the word baby wasn’t enough to have your heart leap out of your chest—Bucky’s fingers toying with the harness at your thighs, and the button of your pants certainly did. Swiftly, he proceeds to undo it all and the zipper. You eagerly help him slip it all off, and when his gaze meets the soaked front of your seamless cotton panties, a husky growl reverberates in his chest. His fingers hook at the edges while his teeth graze along the front of the fabric. The action takes your breath away, your heart racing a mile a minute. His hooded eyes bore into yours as he takes the fabric between his teeth and drags it down your body, baring your slick folds to him—he groans at the sight. 

“Fuck, doll, so ready for me.”

Bucky takes your panties and pockets them. Just as you're about to give him shit for it, he springs up to kiss your lips fervently. Hands at your thighs massaging the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing ever so slightly where you need him most. All prior thoughts are forgotten as you reach for Bucky's belt, desperately removing all obstacles until you can easily slide your hand into his pants. You palm over the bulge in his boxers, stroking him through the fabric. Your eyes widen at the feel of his size causing him to grin at you wolfishly.

“Something the matter, doll?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Your confident tone provokes a deep rumble in Bucky’s throat. His hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more of your arousing touch. He pulls his pants and boxers down and off, freeing his cock. It springs forth, long and thick, the tip already glistening with precum. "Got me all worked up, baby. Just look at it—fuck," his voice is thick with lust, guiding your hand to wrap around his shaft. Your hand glides against him, causing him to let out a low grunt followed by the neediest moans. His nose brushes against yours as he tries not to entirely lose himself to the sheer pleasure that courses through him at your touch. 

Almost desperately, he leans in to capture your mouth again, kissing you deeply, his hips rocking into your hand at the rhythm of your movements. His flesh hand grabs the back of your neck to keep you close as he devours you, while his metal one trails up between your thighs—the coolness teasing the delicate skin—contrasting the heat that builds with the kiss. You moan into it, reveling in the feel of Bucky’s length in your hand as you stroke him slowly, becoming familiar with it. 

Bucky groans into your mouth, a resonant growl of pure want. His fingers go higher up your thighs until the cool metal grazes against your center, drawing out a whimper from you. Your thighs part further in response causing him to smirk against your lips. A smirk that falls into a ravenous hiss as his fingers brush your folds, the sick arousal coating them as he dips to circle your entrance teasingly—your hips bucking in response. 

“Bucky…” his name falls from your mouth with a carnal yearning that snaps Bucky's control entirely. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer to him—balancing you on the edge of the counter. He takes hold of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, the head brushing against your cunt. Your patience is nonexistent at this point. 

“Bucky, if you tell me to ask nicely I swear to ah—” Bucky cuts off your whiny gripe with one swift thrust, burying himself inside you until he fills you completely. “What was that?” his cheeky question does little to hide he’s just as overwhelmed with how good it feels as you are. Yet, with the cockiest grin, he drinks up your hazy expression as you adjust to his thickness. 

Something shifts inside him when you look at him with soft adoring eyes, filling his heart with a thing that can only be called love. It causes him to pepper kisses—gentle and tender—all over your face to help ease the achy stretch. You melt into them, so contrastingly soft to the prior ones that your heart does a little flip. The deeper feelings behind them not lost on you. Even more so when he whispers the sweetest words of devotion at every kiss. How beautiful you are, how good you feel, how good he wants to make you feel, how he’s dreamed of this, and so much more. All the meanwhile, his thumbs massage comforting circles into your hips. 

“There you go. Doing so good for me, doll,” he praises you when he starts to feel your hips slowly move against him—pleasure replacing the ache. He reciprocates your desire, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch until he goes as deep as possible once more—both of you calling out each other’s name by the time you’ve fully adjusted. 

It’s like this at first—slow and deep—dragging out each thrust to savor the sensation of intimacy. Breathy kisses with exchanged whispers blend with one another, your hands wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close. Fingers gently tugging on his brown locks at the nape of his neck, which only serves to drive him crazier. Making it hard for him to keep his restraint in check.

“Been dying to have you, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans out, continuing to bury himself deep into your welcoming heat. But it’s not enough—not for either of you. Not when it does little to help fully unleash all the pent-up hunger that has built up over the course of months. You feel it in the way Bucky grips your hips tight enough to leave bruises to ground himself, and he can feel it in the way your legs wrap around his hips and lock behind him—pushing him in impossibly deeper.

One of you is bound to break soon—and it won’t be you. 

You cup his face in your hands, eyes glazed over and needy as you tell him, “Bucky, don’t hold back. It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back,” you assure him, his pace faltering slightly. Bucky’s blue eyes search yours for a reason not to give in. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I don’t know if I can trust myself,” the vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, your thumbs gently caressing his face to soothe him. He instantly leans into your touch, the comfort it offers addicting. 

You shake your head, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, “You won’t. I trust you, Bucky. I told you—I can handle it, baby—please, baby,” at the term of endearment the rope of restraint inside Bucky snaps. You had never called him baby before, but now that you had Bucky wanted to know what else he had to do—or not do—to keep making you call him baby like that. 

“Keep calling me baby and you’ll get everything you want, beautiful,” Bucky nips at your bottom lip—eyes darkening—turning his pretty blues into a storm. One that’s ready to consume you. He grips your hips harder, picking up his pace until he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You meet his powerful thrusts with equal fervor, a stream of curses and sobs of his name falling from your lips. The counter beneath you shakes and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to break it, but the worry washes away instantly as it feels too good to give a damn. 

“Gonna keep marking you up, doll. Want everyone to see my pretty girl all marked up,” he growls, head dipping down to nip and suck on your neck. Bruising kisses strewn along the delicate skin of your collarbone until his teeth graze your shoulder. Your cunt throbs in time with the relentless onslaught of his cock—bodies synced in pure desire. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss, and every word is a brutal assault on your senses. All filled with his overwhelming want of you. 

“Bucky, s-so good, please…” you plead breathlessly for who knows what. Mind fuzzy and gone, only focusing on the searing pleasure in your veins. Bucky lets out a deep chuckle, lips finding their way to yours, metal hand snaking to palm your breast while his other keeps a tight grip on your hips.“Atta girl—taking me so well,” he grunts out, cunt fluttering at his praise, causing him to let out a half moan half chuckle. You’re close to finishing and he can feel it. 

“Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” Bucky commands, pounding into you with renewed vigor as he works to get you both to your releases. “Baby…I’m gonna…I’m close,” you whimper out and Bucky's response to you is immediate, his hips snapping forward even faster, harder. His metal hand lowers between your legs to apply pressure and circles to your clit. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the kitchen—the room forevermore ingrained with the actions of tonight. 

Your body bows off the counter as you scream out his name, your orgasm crashing over you with a hot intensity. Bucky keeps you close and steady, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice—triggering his climax. Bucky lets out a guttural growl of your name, biting down on your shoulder as his release pours out, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you. The intense contractions milking his shaft for all he’s worth. 

You collapse back onto the counter, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath—body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Bucky shudders from the force of his climax, cock twitching and pulsing as the last of his cum drips out. His upper body collapses on top of you, holding you close as his face buries into the crook of your neck, both of you trembling with the aftermath of your coupling. He trails loving kisses from your neck to your shoulder, not wanting to be apart from you. 

“You did so good, doll—my doll,” he mutters into your shoulder, kissing the area he had previously bitten, nuzzling the marks he left. You can only muster a breathless whimper as he gradually pulls out of you, your combined arousal spreading along the inner skin of your thighs and down onto the counter. He raises his head just enough to admire his handiwork—you, flushed and disheveled, with multiple bite marks and hickeys proudly displayed across your skin.

"I could get used to this—seeing you like this," Bucky says with a satisfied smirk, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. You let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah? I think I could too, baby…” You can feel the way his cock threatens to harden again, the look in his eyes warning you to not push it. He lowers his mouth onto yours again in a hopeless attempt to silence you. 

“Doll, you can’t say it like that. I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“What about the party, baby?”

That about does it for Bucky. 

“Screw the party. I’d rather show my pretty girl, my baby—a good time here,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath hot and uneven as he picks you up from the counter. You giggle out a gasp as he carries you over to his bedroom where he does indeed show you a good time—a great time, in fact, all night long. 

Happy Halloween to you. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Random idea that came to me. Crawling under bat boys hoodie and falling asleep on their chest

Brilliant idea anon, absolutely brilliant.

Jason would smile in amusement as he watched you try to burry yourself under his red hoodie, it was quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen you do all day as he sets aside his book, just to watch the lump under his hoodie that was you crawl up towards his chest as though you were a cat.

He guessed his reading could wait as he investigates your reasonings for being so fucking cute.

‘Whatcha doing?’ He’d ask as he lifts the collar of his hoodie to see you sigh in relief as you cuddled up to his chest, finally where you wanted to be.

‘Cuddling.’ You replied.

‘You mean leeching off of my warmth more like you little shit,’ he pokes you in the side through his hoodie, making you squirm, ‘aren’t you going to get too hot down there? I run quite warm remember.’ He adds, worried that you might get a little bit suffocated beneath his hoodie and his bare chest, he didn’t want you to get lightheaded under his watch.

‘I’ll be okay jay birdie.’ You kissed his pec, rubbing your cheek against it afterwards as you let out a massive yawn, Jason’s warmth and overall comforting presence was enough to have you feeling a little sleepy. ‘I just was feeling a little cold.’ You murmured the last part as your eyes felt heavy and your words becoming slurred as your body relaxed in the position that it was in.

Jason smiled softly as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. ‘Okay my little heat hogger, but if I think you’re getting too hot in there, I’m taking you out.’ He chuckled when you let out a small noise to let him know you’ve heard him before falling asleep against him completely.

He’ll just have to let you crawl under his hoodie more often and he has a feeling this will become a tradition between the two of you sooner or later.

Dick couldn’t help but squirm when you chirruped yourself under his hoodie.

‘Babe!’ He whined, ‘I’m ticklish!’

‘Sorry dickie bean, but I’m cold and I want warmth.’ Was your reply as you cuddled up to his chest, humming in content when you found the perfect spot to sleep on.

‘I know but why do you have to burrow under my hoodie? Or is it so you can rest your head on my bare pecs?’ Dick inquired as he throws his arms over you, keeping you where you were under his hoodie as you popped your head out from the collar to kiss his jaw.

‘I like your warmth and listening to your heart beat, your tiddies are just the bonus aspect of it all dickie bean.’ You responded as you disappeared back under the hoodie to rest your head on his pecs once more, closing your eyes in content.

‘Since you think it’s okay to do this, does that mean I can do the same when you wear a hoodie?’ Dick asked as he pouts, feeling as though he was missing out on something revolutionary. You giggled against him. ‘Sure I don’t see why not but I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit under my hoodie sweetie.’ You answered, smiling to yourself at the idea of dick being stuck halfway under your hoodie, face buried in your tummy but he’s more then content there as he occasionally blows raspberries, much to your dismay.

‘I’ll hold you to that, but for now I’ll let you snuggle my pecs and leech off my warmth like the little hog that you are.’ Dick teased as he kisses your head, smiling when he felt you tighten your grip on him however you could, even if it did tickle him a little bit he would endure it for you.

‘I’m not a hogger.’ You pout.

‘That’s what they all say, even the cute ones.’ Dick tells you as he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Bruce

Raises a brow when you pulled up his hoodie, only to quickly crawl your way underneath and cling to his chest like a needy kitten. ‘Can I help you my dear? If you’re cold I can just tell Alfred to turn up the heat or fetch another blanket?’ He asked the human sized lump under his hoodie that was you.

‘No! I like it here more.’ Came your muffled response as Bruce felt you cling to him even more, burring your head in between his tiddies that were soft as a pair of pillows when he wasn’t involuntary flexing his muscles. ‘This is the only way I can combat the cold.’

Bruce chuckled softly, you humoured him with your antics and he didn’t mind at all as he needed a moment or two of laughter in his life after going without it for a long, long while. ‘Are you planning staying there the entire evening? Won’t you get too warm or uncomfortable?’ He asks as he makes his way towards the bedroom, uncaring of the double takes dick and Jason gave him when he passed by.

‘Is Bruce pregnant?’ Jason whispered to dick when Bruce was out of sight.

‘No it’s just y/n clinging to him. They do that when they’re cold.’ Dick replied but even for a split second he also thought Bruce was pregnant, not that he’d tell Jason that, ever.

‘I’ll be fine, besides I’ve got the greatest pillows right here to sleep on.’ You cheekily told him and you lightly bite down on his pectorals and giggling to yourself. Bruce sighs, knowing he’s got yet another mark that he’ll have to avoid explaining to Alfred or worse Clark but he likes the fact that you felt secure enough to cuddle under his hoodie, it warmed his heart and he knew that he would never stop you from doing so as it was just as therapeutic for him and it was for you.

[dwaekkicidal]

"Heats" with Bunny!Lee Know

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 2 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~900

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader but theres pregnancy mentions in the last two quotes at the very very end of this post, constant mentions of breeding, 1 mention of a spank, overstimulation, some cum talk, using another person's clothes+scent to get off, this last one is marked with "⚠" but 1 mention of being forced down with a foot on ur head lol

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Has no real heat cycle, at least not an obvious one, since male rabbits are always ready to breed year-round.

❥ That being said, he will be very obsessive about breeding you from the very beginning of the year, usually February or March, all the way to September. You both quickly come to learn that it is because of rabbit's mating season! Which explains why he's constantly insatiable during this time frame and will usually want to go multiple rounds a day, every single day if you'll allow it.

❥ He cums super fast sometimes, so oral is not an option in his mind. He will taste you at least 3 times a day and he'll dig his nails into your thighs if you start trying to squirm away from overstimulation.

❥ Once he's got his fill and he's sure you've enjoyed yourself, he’s wasting no time to flip you onto your hands and knees. It’s his favorite position!! something something "Best for me to breed you thoroughly"

❥ He’s gonna keep your hole nice and stuffed while he roughs you around for as many rounds as he deems sufficient enough for his seed to take. (Spoiler: it's NEVER enough for him)

❥ And if he’s that deep in, that he’s giving in to his more 'primal' side, then you will be at it for hours before his mushy little brain pushes past the chants of “breed. breed. breed.” and remembers that you’re, in fact, a human and need a second to breathe.

❥ He quite literally does not care if you physically can not get pregnant... You not having the means to get pregnant or simply being on birth control will never stop him from talking or thinking about breeding you. If anything, he finds it even hotter because his minds convinces him that "If we try hard enough.."

❥ You don’t need lube when he has almost disgusting amounts of precum/cum leaking from his tip <3 So much so that you now have a towel drawer in your nightstand

❥ Much to his human side’s dismay, and to his rabbit side’s joy, he will cum buckets every 2nd time. Meaning that once that second round of the day is hitting, prepare to literally overflow due to the sheer amount of cum his heavy balls will pump into you.

❥ Oh, and don’t even think about letting any of it go to waste. The second a singular drop of his cum falls past the midpoint of your thigh, he is racing to shove it back inside where it belongs.

❥ Depending on how deep into this “headspace” he is he might even growl, which always comes out as a huff, and land a warning slap to your ass cheek. Loves to combine it with some crude comment (like the very first quote at the end of this post)

❥ If he’s reaally really into it he will mount you as best as he physically can: If you’re in a position similar to missionary, you’re getting shoved into a mating press and held in place. Or if you’re in a position similar to doggy style, you’re getting shoved flat into the sheets so he can straddle the backs of your thighs and spread your cheeks while he watches himself fuck into your tight hole <3

⚠ You didn't hear this from me but if he's particularly insatiable & has lost himself to his instincts, he may or may not hold you down with his foot on the back of your head while you're in downward doggy. This is so he can force you to sit still and fuck your brains out so that you stay pliant for him until he's ready to take a break <3 In this position, he fucks you soo much more aggressively/rougher than ever before so prepare to not be able to walk for a bit hehe

Now, let’s say he goes through one of these “mating season” fits while you’re nowhere near. Maybe in another country or state for whatever reason and there’s no possibility that you and him can reunite anytime soon.

❥ He WILL try to breed hump everything that smells like you. From using your towel(s) to tug one out all the way to humping your favorite spot on the couch until his dick is raw.

❥ This also means he will throw one of your clothes (cough 90% of the time is your worn underwear cough) onto a pillow and will rub his cock against it until he dirties it even more.

❥ But, he is a good boy. So he won’t be gross and leave his cum to seep into your clothes until you come home. He’ll be good and thoroughly clean whatever he lost his mind on and definitely will get horny again in the process

❥ You let him think he’s gotten away with it, but in reality? He cums so much that some stains just don’t go away…

Well... that and you leaving a semi-filled laundry basket just to come home to an empty basket and suspiciously clean clothes always gives him away.

“Tell this ungrateful, little hole to take what it's given and stop wasting.”

“Jagi- Fuck. Jagiya, stop wiggling so much. The deeper I am, the better I can breed you.”

"I need to cum- God, please, baby- you haveta' take it all. You owe me for being so fucking tight and wasting all my cum."

“If you keep spilling, I’ll have no choice but to fuck another couple of loads into you, Honey.”

"You're gonna be so fucking sexy, all nice and round with my kits in your tummy. Yeah? Right fucking here." As he puts his palm on your lower stomach 🥴

"Yeah? You're gonna give me a litter? Gonna have our babies runnin' around my parent's house while I stuff you full with even more of them."

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[gothamrain]

THAT’S NOT A PART OF YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Dick Grayson x art student!reader || 1.6k words

Warnings: smut, naked cuddling, blow job, slight exhibitionism but not quite

Summary: You have an assignment for figure drawing and thankfully have a willing model (along with yourself). Time to take some reference photos. Unfortunately for one horny boy, this means he can’t move. lol poor guy.

a/n: goddd i’m a senior so i’ve spent a bajillion hours in figure by now oof. so here, let me indulge my fantasies. need me a muse like Dick Grayson… well, maybe it’s for the best, since this fic shows how i wouldnt be getting anything done with him around agdjhsajhfk

“Hey, Dickie, can you come in here for a second?” you called and instantly you heard the sock feet of your fiancé come padding towards you.

“Do you need me for something, Baby?”

You were too distracted with the task at hand to pick up on his flirting, “Yeah, just come lay on the bed for a bit.”

“Oooh. Of course~” Dick grinned as he eyed the camera you were adjusting on its tripod before he flopped down onto the bed, “any particular pose?”

“Nah I’m just fixing it right now, you can do whatever as long as you stay on the bed,”

You had meant, like, maybe he could scroll on his phone while you worked. But he took that as ‘whatever sexy pose you want, Babe’ and began showing off his lithe body. Little distracting, but you were used to him enough to successfully ignore it. But damn, was it hard. Especially when he turned around so you could get a nice view of his ass.

“So, we shooting sex tapes or what?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, we’re not shooting sex tapes. I need references for a piece for Figure. We’re supposed to be focusing on the ways the human body will fit together, so we need at least two models,”

“Sound’s intimate,” he schmoozed.

You sighed, “Yeah, that’s why I thought I should just draw us. I like the intimacy of the way we fit together—“

“So we are making sex tapes,”

“No. We are going to just be cuddling, I'm not going up in front of my class to present an explicit piece of us fucking, thank you.”

“But we are going to be naked?”

You sighed even more dramatically this time, “Yes, Dick, we are going to be naked. I have to ‘show off the beauty of the human form’…”

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively, you shook your head, “and I'll admit, I wanted it to be a little sensual, okay, but it's not like that,"

You went back to fiddling with the camera, ignoring his childish snickering. You positioned it perfectly, able to capture Dick's full body but not too much background with it. Hopefully cramming yourself in there too wont crop anything weird.

Humming to yourself, you grabbed the tiny remote for the tripod and tested it to make sure it was working. Doing so, you accidentally got a shot of Dick taking off his shirt. The way his stomach and chest were flexed as he lifted the shirt over his head was beautiful. Just what you wanted, art. You didn’t delete this test shot like you would’ve done on any other day. Don’t tell Dick.

“Little eager there, Babe?” you flirted.

He had already moved on to stripping off his sweatpants. As he threw the garment across the room you noticed he uh, had a little problem growing. Ah..

“The faster we get these pictures the faster I can convince you to “take a nap” before patrol tonight,” he slipped his boxers off as he talked to you.

“Uh. Yeah. Um,” you started unbuttoning your shirt, “Let’s get this done, yeah…”

Great, now you’re flustered. You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now, to not use your own boyfriend as a model. But he was so pretty, it was always so tempting. If you had your way, all you’d ever draw were portraits of Dick. If you did that, though, you’d quickly get known as “that kid who only draws local celebrity Dick Grayson” around your university, which would most likely get shortened to just “Dick Kid”, and you did not need that kind of bullying in your life right now. You’re a professional studio artist now, goddamnit.

You heard the springs of the bed as Dick laid back down, “So what were you thinking?”

“…” man what were you thinking again? Oh, “I wanted to start with a shot of us spooning. You know, how the legs fit together, how a face fits into the crook of a neck,”

He smiled, “Do I get to be the big spoon?”

“I guess,” you teased.

You took off your own pants and underwear and gave your hair a good finger comb through before laying down on the bed with Dick. He smirked as you cozied up to him. He placed his hand on your hip as he repositioned himself.

“So you want my leg like—”

“Uh huh,” you felt the heat of his bare body melting into yours. And his errection nestling into your ass. Geez…

“And my face—“

He nuzzled into the side of your neck, brushing against the sensitive artery there. Hoo boy, perhaps this is a bad idea. Dick hummed against your throat as he began peppering the area with light kisses.

Mmm, perhaps it’s a really good idea.

“Dick, pose,”

He stopped his onslaught on your neck for a moment, keeping still as you pressed the button on the remote to take a few shots.

“Thank you,” you shuffled over to check the photos, much to Dick’s disappointment at you leaving his embrace, “these are good, next pose,”

“What now,”

You adjusted the angle on the camera, “okay now sit up, on your knees,”

He did as you told him and you crawled back over.

“Uh, sorry, I promise I’m trying to keep professional thoughts right now,” he gestured to his now very prominent boner.

“That’s fine, Baby,” you snickered as you started straddling him, “they’re not gonna be able to see it. This one’s about how legs perfectly bracket a waist,”

“Hands?”

“On my chest, with your fingers in between the ribs,”

Dick was a little confused on what you meant there for a moment but he found it. You were right, his fingers did perfectly slot in between the bones of your ribcage.

Took everything in him to not start running his hands up and down your sides, feeling more of you beneath his fingertips. The gentle way your skin was always soft, no matter where he touched you drove him wild.

And it’s like you knew, the way you grinned and shook your head.

“Here,” you dipped your face towards him and he greedily took the kiss you offered.

It was just a chaste thing, when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. Dick had to fight back the whine in his throat.

“Forehead to mine pleas—“ he gingerly complied, “there we go,”

Dick’s eyelids were pressed tightly shut, but he heard the click of the shutter go off a few times. You then disentangled yourself from him to go check the photos. He missed you immediately, even though you were just right over there.

Damn. This was horrible. Torture. His punishment from the gods like Tantalus’s fruit. He’d rather clean the Batmobile with a toothbrush than have you naked in his lap and not be able to do anything about it.

Okay so maybe he was being a little overdramatic. Can you blame him, though? He can’t just hold his everything in his hands and not make love to them. It feels irreverent.

“Okay, last one”

Thank fucking god. He could feel his cock throbbing and it was starting to get painful.

“Come get close to the camera, this one doesn’t need to be fullbody,”

He crawled closer as you adjusted it once again, “what’s up with this one?”

“How hands were made to cup our curves. I’ll need you to hold my chin in your hands,”

Done. You don’t have to ask him twice. But damn, as you positioned yourself to how you wanted, was it hard to not just start kissing you.

He gazed lovingly at you as he gently played his part, holding you for the camera (and a bunch of students, apparently) to see. He hoped he was doing you justice in this, in all of these. Although, a part of him didn’t want them to be good, didn’t want other people to see how beautiful you could be for him. Your home was his own private little gallery with you as the star and maybe he didn’t want to share.

Gatekeeping art. Tsk…

The shutter clicked and flashed but you didn’t really care anymore. That was the last picture, after all, and Dick was looking at you like he was about to devour you.

And you were right, as he realized he had a greenlight and dove right in.

Dick wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth this time, lapping at your molars. Two can play at that game, so you licked into his mouth as well, only for him to fight dirty running his tongue along the roof of your mouth in flicks. A shiver ran down your spine as Dick pulled your face, still cupped in his hands, further into his. He moaned with the action, and damn, he really was trying to devour you.

He continued his attack on your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours in the most delicious way. You felt the vibrations of another groan as you let your hands start to wander down his body. His trapeze artist tits pecs.. his grabbable hips… his very hard cock weeping precum onto your hand as you fisted it. He pulled out of your mouth with a jolt, panting for air.

“Please—“ he was cut off by a surprisingly high-pitched noise breaking out his throat as you went down, wasting no time in taking him into your mouth.

You took him as far as you could, the head hitting the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue flat into the underside of his cock, slowly dragging it along his tender shaft before pulling off of him again. He made a strangled noise as you looked up at him.

“What?” why’d you stop before you even started?

“Well look,” you placed your tongue back into the divet where his tip met his shaft, “it’s like my tongue was made to be there. Fits together perfectly,”

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

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 257

Now Danny loves space. He loves everything about it, to the point his core quite literally is space. And he’s also a baby ghost, even if he could argue he’s not in human form. But see, being baby has an honestly great consequence once it’s noticed- despite the Observants’ best attempts at hiding it, the assholes. 

Of course he would be far more worried- and even a bit pissed- if his caretaker wasn’t who it was. Look, he’d never met Clockwork’s siblings before, but apparently everyone was really against Clockwork himself adopting. 

But Clockwork as his uncle is fine. Besides, his caretaker is Space! Space itself is holding him, cooing gentle words in the sounds of the very cosmos. And they’re huge, like parts of their body going through portals so they can fit outside Long-Now sized big- and apparently Clockwork can get just as big and they can get even bigger- 

Okay, he needs to take a breath- even if he doesn’t need to breathe- to stop his squealing because holy Realms this is so cool. 

Space is awesome! And he’s getting so much more rest than he did in Amity- and even if Space sort of shrugged at the idea of school at first, they did help him set up online schooling. So there’s that, and it’s just the start! 

He gets to learn so much about space and it’s honestly kind of… nice? To be taken care of? And he can do whatever he needs for his Core and Obsession with only a few interruptions to take care of his living needs. Erm, sort of living needs? 

But even that gets turned into a bit of play or even a lesson too! He’s honestly having such a good time right now! He’s learning so much about spaaace! And dimensions! And interdimensional portals and- oops! No one saw that. 

Ahem- But he’s learning so much about space and getting to explore other dimensions with Cosmos! And sure he no longer looks as human as he once did and all that, but he’s seen so many people who also don’t look human that does it really matter? 

Of course it doesn’t, and he matches his sort-of-dad! Even though the streaks of color in their hair are more of a brown-red like they’re literally bleeding out the cosmos around them instead of it fading to void and space like his own. But still! They match and it’s fun! 

And they’re going to go on another trip from the in-between to one of the dimension realities! He’s going to start a game of tag this time he thinks! But no cheating with portals or bending space! Tag! 

Look, the Justice League? Not paid enough for this. In fact, technically not paid at all due to being volunteers (not that it stopped them from finding money in their accounts) but still. 

There is some sort of figure… being… thing… zooming around the asteroid belt, about the size of Earth itself. Let them repeat themselves. A planet-sized creature (are those hands or paws? Tail or simply its body stretching? Hair or the Abyss-) is currently darting around the asteroid belt like a child running through grass. 

That is, without noticing or caring if something bug-sized might be crushed. And they are very much bug sized, as the governments are concerned about. Like really concerned about. Like talking about trying to nuke the entity if it wanders closer sort of concerned. 

Which they are all very concerned and very much like, against. Because it isn’t seeming to notice the asteroids it’s knocking into their area. It’s like… not a space whale or eel or anything like that but also is something like that. 

And they would also maybe like to see if they can attempt to talk it down first maybe and-

oh. 

Oh. 

That creature is the baby. And mama just arrived, stretching across the entire galaxy, from them to Pluto and beyond, like something took the cosmos and shaped it like clay into some sort of form. Like reality itself has wandered into their galaxy with what they are suddenly realizing must be a very young child. 

Shit, they really have to make sure no one tries to piss either of these things off-

[luminiamore]

STRETCH.

yoga instructer choso x black man-eater reader

a/n: this is heavily inspired by jennifer’s body (・_・ヾ

also 1000 followers WHATT? (つ✧ω✧)つ

no branding included in this fic actually, so yk what that means. part two in the future asf (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

warnings: murder, reader is a succubus who eats boys & the girls she sleeps with (not choso), reader has fangs, big dick choso, he’s shy, he do be eating ass though, sloppy eater, whiny choso, pussydrunk cho, breeding asf, soft dom choso but like (￣ω￣;) subby, he makes reader submit, just nasty, also frens with satosugu

masterlist

man-eater

Noun

man-eater (plural man-eaters)

An animal that attacks and kills humans for food, such as certain tigers or sharks; any animal that consumes human flesh. quotations 

A cannibal; a human that eats other humans. quotations 

(by extension, slang) A seductive dangerous woman, often readily taking and discarding male romantic partners. 

One thing you loved about the 21st century is that there was never a shortage of people. They were everywhere. Crawling around like little ants and fucking rapidly like rabbits. You never ran out of your source of food, your source of life. 

Your species have been around for a long time. You don’t remember how you came to be, but when you first opened your eyes, you were in the center of hot molten rock from the middle of the northwest Pacific Ocean. Tamu Massif, the world’s massive underwater volcano, just 1,600 km east of Japan, was your home. 

Your first feeding, your first kill, happened off the coast on the Seychelles beaches about two days after you were awakened. Your brown body was paling by then, but you didn’t know why. At first, you didn’t know what you were, but you knew you were weak and physically unable to move at some point. While still beautiful, your eyes lacked any life in them. You needed energy.

In your defense, they came to you. The wife did, more specifically. You were under the sun a lot; it was the only thing that could at least give you some life. You suspected she and the buff man with her were here as tourists, a honeymoon vacation spot perhaps. But, even after just being introduced to this world, you knew what you preferred. You were selective.

Her husband wasn’t all that interesting to break, but her... 

She was gorgeous, downright angelic. And you had such a strong desire to fuck her. And weirdly enough, your mouth started savoring at the thought of eating her. 

It seems you hadn’t known just how insatiable you can be, just how powerful you really are. It wasn’t on purpose; you swear it wasn’t. But you know what they say about firsts. She was addicting. How soft she was, how perfect her body fit with yours. She taught you how to feel, how to let go. You were so high on pleasure.

So, you can imagine your distress when you wake up to her unmoving body on top of your naked one. When you shift your eyes to the left, you notice her neck, specifically the missing chunk of it. You lick your lips and immediately grimace at the saltiness. You pushed her body towards your side with a huff. 

At first, you felt quite hysterical. You ran toward the mirror and saw something that caused you to gasp.  

Was that blood?

Red spots were all over your face, and your mouth area was even more adorned. Your locs are messy, cascading down past your hips. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what occurred while you were intoxicated with pleasure. 

Your face is grim as you grasp onto the skin of your forehead, groaning. Flashes start to appear in your mind. A glimpse of her face, body, her pussy. Flashes of you leaning into her neck, flashes of her neck being torn apart, and flashes of her body shaky under your firm hold. 

Oh.

After about ten seconds had passed of your staring in the mirror, you accepted that this woman was now dead. You had killed her. 

But.. you weren’t overwhelmed by dread. Not upset or guilty that you completely depleted this woman’s life force. A strong feeling coursed through every nook and cranny in your veins, and you felt rejuvenated. The eye bags that had formed beneath your wispy eyelashes were absent, you could tell that much despite the amount of blood splattered on your face.

You had a liking for this feeling. Your strength was apparent, and your skin was brighter and clearer. You experienced such a state of euphoria. And well, you would die if you didn’t get more. Literally and figuratively.

You didn’t make an effort to conceal the body; you felt no need to. You felt compelled to go somewhere, but when you looked in that direction, all you could see was the moving water. You escaped into the ocean at the exact moment, moving as fast as you could away from the small island and following the intense pressure calling out to you.

Since that incident, you’ve stayed in Japan. A black woman with unnatural beauty stalked through the night, undeniably being the center of attention. You were the talk of everywhere you went; people often compared you to a witch, a vampire was the funniest one you’ve heard. You were unusual and feared a little by the public. Although you were beautiful, every step you took was infused with a sense of danger and mystery. Death, even. 

It’s common for people who left with you to never be seen again. In the event that they were, they weren’t the same. People had this inexhaustible attraction towards you. They wanted to know more, they tried to discover the secrets you held. But unless you choose them, all people could potentially get out of you was a meaningless glance.

The more you kill, the stronger you become. You became aware of this shortly after your second kill, and you could soon hold off on feeding for weeks if you needed to. Though you’ve grown to realize that you’re superior to a particular breed, you were never the type to go crazy with power. Many of your species, you could tell, were famous and had the most influence on the public. 

Take the city’s most well-known billionaires, such as Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. Their ownership of many corporations and businesses allowed them to have multiple connections with dangerous parts of Japan, such as the Yakuza. However, they also contribute significant amounts of income to the city annually. Their support of the most popular things in the population was indisputable, making it impossible not to like them. It wasn’t because they wanted to; they weren’t that generous, but because they loved power. 

Passing them on your stroll, you could tell they were similar to you. Their scent was unlike that of humans, and their energy and absolute pheromones were ridiculous. They were looking for prey that night, you could tell by how potent it was. And perhaps if you were human, you would have fallen for their charm when they called out for you. 

They had plans to make you their meal for the night, but unfortunately, their hypnotic effect on humans didn’t work on you. That’s when they realized that you were like them, and well, they were both amused. 

“Aw, how cute,”

“Bet you would’ve tasted real good too.”

To this day, you don’t know if Suguru was talking about eating you or your pussy. Even so, you became a close friend of the pair from that moment forward. There were days when they would pop up to your apartment unannounced and grace you with their antics. It was more of a domestic setting, not sexual, but they enjoyed being around someone who deeply understood them. 

Today was one of those days. Your peaceful nap ended when they entered your bedroom and plopped down on your bed, discussing the last feeding they had. Satoru’s voice reaches an enthusiastic pitch,

“She was so bendy, Suguru! She bent over backwards, and she was still taking my dick,” 

The long-haired man shifts his eyes carelessly towards his best friend, who is resting on your thighs and intensely focused on something on his phone. You were oblivious to the words spewed out by Satoru, fighting against the sleep you had gotten before they arrived. The latter raises a brow,

“Hmm,”

“She told me she takes something called yoga classes? It’s a shame she’s dead now, she was fu- Wait! Hey, Y/n?”

Your response is a hum as he shifts his head to your face and speaks with a sly smile on his lips,

“Do you take yoga classes?” 

You were not very fond of modern activities, so you rarely indulged in them. You rarely attempt to learn about human life and what they do for fun or work due to that knowledge. Their values never weighed down on you, and as a result, you lived a peaceful life. When you glanced down at piercing ice eyes, the confusion was evident on your face, 

“What’s..yoga?”

Suguru gave a response instead, knowing that Satoru would give you a misleading description of the exercise, 

“It’s just an activity humans do to calm the mind and stretch the body.”

“I see. Does it bring pleasure?”

“Maybe, they seem to be very satisfied afterwards.”

You twist your head in thought, interesting. Satoru pokes at your shoulder, and when you glance down, he shows you his phone screen. Plentiful pictures of women in various positions, very flexible..positions. Was she holding herself up on her forearms?

“Where can I find this? I’d like to.. learn.” Your own words caused you to startle yourself, and now you’re completely awake. 

Since when? 

You hear a breathy laugh coming from beneath you. “Oh yeah? Didn’t peg you as the type to like playing with your food.” His fingers move to find the nearest yoga studio by your building, despite his taunting, and he feels internally happy when he discovers it’s one he knows. 

You flick his head, giggling while he grunts a bit. “It’s interesting. I didn’t know the body could shape itself like that.” In all honesty, he presented you with some pictures that made you grimace a little. 

“There’s a place called Kamo’s Zen Sanctuary a few blocks from here. Of course, Suguru and I are friends with the owner.”

The mentioned man hums in assurance, 

“We can send a car to take you tomorrow afternoon if you’re up for it.” He wiggles his brows as he waits for your response.

As always, they kept their word without fail. Before the car arrived the next day, a large package was delivered to your door with a flimsy note that said, ‘You’re welcome.’ 

It’s probable that you only needed one yoga set, but your friends wanted to give you a wide array of choices to pick from. Ultimately, you opted for a lightweight black set. When you looked in the mirror, you really saw how the clothing accentuated your body, especially your ass. Oh, you liked this.

Stopping outside the studio, your mind suddenly became well aware that you didn’t know how human establishments operated. You took pleasure in the decorative pieces that this place had. Cold air, a Buddha statue spilling water steadily in a bowl, and soothing violin music immediately welcomed you upon arrival. 

Despite not being familiar with the environment, you still entered it with grace. You would have left if it weren’t for the tall, handsome gentleman who sneaked up on you from behind. His silent demeanor made it impossible to hear him, and when you saw his face, you indeed weren’t disappointed.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Smooth was how his words came across. When you faced him, his face was smooth, too. Your body vibrated, your fingertips were slightly twitching, and your mind was reeling in the fact that you were suddenly very, very hungry. Although it’s been a week since you last had anything to eat, you’ve already found your next prey. 

Him. The quite pale man with a pair of beautiful, solemn eyes. The dark line across his face is a perfect fit for him, and it’s hard not to notice. His plum lips are almost puckered, but they look so soft you want to sink your teeth into them. You want him.

You eye his exposed biceps in the black shirt clinging onto his pale skin, “Yes, I want to learn yoga. How can I?”   

Even as his ears flush, he maintains a steady tone and unbothered expression when addressing you, barely making eye contact, “I can get you started with that. My name is Choso. I’m an instructor here. Come with me, miss.”

You nodded without reason because the man had already turned and started walking to a different room. You’re staring at him, more so the way his muscles ripple with every step he takes. There’s an intangible desire on your part to fuck this man, bite every inch of his body until he was withering in pleasure. 

Choso seemed shy, but you liked that he was nervous and fidgety around you as you faced him in a larger room with a mirror covering both ends. There were no lights on, only candles surrounding the black walls. The echo from the fish swimming in the small pond could be heard throughout the space. 

His back could be seen through the clear glass. As you looked around, you also noticed red mats and..blocks? This place was strange. You lick your lips when he speaks again, 

“This is where we do the practice. I sense that you’re new to this. Do you want to start with a small stretch first?” His hand reaches behind him to pick up a thin mat, his low purple eyes flickering between the object and you. 

“Of course, Choso.”

Choso has a sweet scent, almost like a bakery. The moment you walked inside, his scent infiltrated your nostrils. The sheer proximity of his body when he guided you into what he said was the downward dog position made you feel like you were floating. You felt hot, even on fire, when he touched you. The fabric you wore was so tightly held onto your body that it felt like he was touching your bare skin.

He was exerting pressure on your lower thighs, making them conform to the position. When you glanced in the mirror, he seemed so focused on what he was doing. You swear your pussy had a heartbeat. His gaze catches yours,

“Head down, miss.”

You listen wordlessly, your locs making small thumping sounds when they hit the red surface. Maybe Choso could feel the heat and craving radiating off of your body. Maybe he couldn’t. It’s impossible to read his thoughts, no matter which way you look at it. His face remains blank after he says ‘good job’ for maintaining the position after a minute. If he can feel your body heating up like you can, his expression doesn’t make it known. 

His body, however, does. More so, how red he gets, as if he’s heating up too as if he’s experiencing the same shit you are. Could he be?

Choso tells you about the next position he’s going to put you in,

“You’re a little tense on your outer hips, so we’re gonna do something called the Pigeon pose.”

You’re almost about to ask, ‘What’s that?’ but he shows you before you can even part your lips. Your right leg is flat against the floor, twisted in front of you almost perfectly, while your left leg elongates towards the back. Choso observes the difficulty of your arms in holding you up, so he goes in front of you to help. The firmness of his hands on your hips reflects his strength, especially when he presses down slightly to stretch the area. 

“It’s okay. Your legs are supporting you. You can relax a bit.” Can you, though? With the way, he’s pressing on an area that’s suddenly very sore to you. His voice is scratching some primal part of your brain. You think it’s impossible.

“Am I supposed to be doing something while in this position?” You intentionally lower your voice to make him look at you. He does, just not in the way you want. That stupid, blank expression is still on his face. You rub your lower body on the mat, shivering a little as it barely touches your clit through the fabric.

“You’re supposed to breathe. Just be.” He speaks softly against your face. You were fond of his closeness, the sensation of his breath being directly on your skin. 

“When will this feel pleasurable?” You exhale. You honestly weren’t seeing any interest in human activities again. You were only getting a slight burn on your legs, and that was due to the grip Choso still had on you.

You don’t know what it is you said, but you watch Choso intensely. You can see his eyes widen for a split second before returning to their original state.

“Pleasurable? You came here.. for pleasure?” 

There was a slight hiccup in his voice at the end of his question. You got him, you think. It shouldn’t be much to get him under you now. He taps his long fingers on your hip twice twice in an attempt to make you shift to the other leg, causing you to jump. 

A wince escapes your lips as he releases his grip on you, “I hear that this practice can give that. Is it true?”

You finally caught Choso’s eye on you. In fact, his gaze remains on you even after he observes your body shift its position. You believe that you like his eyes on you. He lowers himself to your level to help you still your body.

“I suppose it depends on what kind of pleasure you’re looking for, miss.”

You hum softly as you breathe him in once more today when his palms rest against you once again. What did he mean by that?

You reply, but your gaze never leaves his, “What kind of pleasure can you give me, Choso?” 

Choso was quiet, reserved from the public, and honestly tried his best to avoid any eye contact with you during your entire time in his studio. But he only has so much self-control, as did you. The only conversation was a series of intense squelching sounds as Choso sucked on your pink bud obscenely. 

“Oh fuck- Just like that, Cho!”

He moaned fervently against your brown lips, pulling your hips against his face and keeping your cheeks apart with his large grip. You were on your knees, back shaped into a perfect arch. He was not letting go, squeezing his tongue down your wet pussy lips. Your body shakes as his tongue licks a stripe through your folds, circles all over your puckered hole, and drool slips onto the thin mat.

“Ah-!”

Your cries made Choso even more red in the ears. He thought he was pretty dull, not exciting or engaging to talk to. He didn’t pay much attention to his looks, girls always found him too.. weird. It wasn’t something he expected to happen on his day. He knew who you were before you came in, Satoru had the pleasure of letting him know you were on your way. But the minute you came into his place of work, he found it very hard to resist you. That’s why he didn’t make any eye contact. 

The truth is, Choso was deeply attracted to you and found it terrifying. 

Choso’s pretty head was puzzled by the fact that he was responsible for the angelic sounds that emerged from your plump lips. He couldn’t fathom that he was on his knees licking the most sensitive parts of your body. But, he welcomed it, letting himself sink into the essence of you with a feeling of overwhelming desperation. 

“Want more. Come on, miss. Give m-me more, please.”

How much more can you give him? He already has his face deep inside of you. You understand what he is trying to say when he inserts two fingers into your wet mound, dragging them in and out and carefully grazing the spongy spot that makes you thrash around. You immediately clench at the intrusion, feeling the overwhelming pleasure burn in the pit of your stomach. 

Choso is eager to pay attention to all parts of you but doesn’t know where to focus. Every part of you tastes so celestial, he wanted you to give him everything at the same time. His finger-fucking is swift, and your mind is entirely absent when the man pushes his tongue into and out of your ass simultaneously. Choso was so turned on that his precum was making a stain on his shorts from how much he was leaking.

His moans vibrated against your lower lips, and you swore in all your existence that you had never been eaten so nasty like this. He was going to make you cum so fast that you couldn’t even be mad about it.

He can feel it. The fatness of your pussy is pressing against Choso’s two big fingers, forcing him to use more strength to maintain his rapid pace. Your wetness creates a beautiful clear puddle under his attack, and he can feel it. Could you also do that on his dick? Milk his cock over and over and over again until he couldn’t cum anymore? Choso has been an atheist his entire life, but he almost prayed for this one favor.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ouuu fuck! I’m g-gonna-”

The man doesn’t respond at first, only presses into your G-spot harder and more forcefully, as if he has a point to prove. He circles at your clit, wrapping the twitching bud around his lips, and sucks hard. What does it for you is the drunk whispers vibrating against your core of ‘Please, give it to me. Just cum. Fuck, it’s so wet.’

Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the carpeted floor in front of you, and your mouth releases pornographic moaning as cream pours out of you and onto his waiting tongue. Choso is clamoring for your taste, and as a result, he moans out with you. You have a strong desire for him, but for some inexplicable reason, your body is unwilling to eat him. Instead, you never wanted to fuck a person so badly in your life. 

Choso’s close proximity makes him ignore your little whimpers while rubbing his blushing, leaking tip up and down your sloppy cunt. When did he even pull his dick out? 

“Bet it’s so w-warm inside. Ah-” When his flushed tip accidentally slips in, and he gets a taste of the warmth you bring, his breathy voice cracks. You’re whining now. Pushing back on Choso, sucking his wide cock in your greedy hole, feeling impatient to force him down far enough to rip your pussy. 

Choso has the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard. His voice is deep, but his tone gets so high in pitch when he’s like this. It’s so whiny it makes you cream. Literally. His voice cracks, just like his resolve does when you slide all 7.8 inches of him in so that your hips are flush against his pelvis. The feeling of his dick inside of you is so good that you’re so close to begging.

He thought he could have some self-control, but he barely kept it together when he was just eating you out. Your drooling pussy convulsing and contracting against Choso, against his cock, is a sign that his soul has reached a part of heaven. He couldn’t stop himself, really. He couldn’t do anything but relentlessly fuck you at an inhuman pace. 

“So good. So good. Pussy’s so fucking-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan when he witnesses your soft brown cheeks being spread apart for him, revealing a magnificent view of your pussy being stretched beyond their limits. Giving him a beautiful view of your messy pussy creaming the more his dick repeatedly punches your g-spot again and again and again.

You’re wailing. You’re trying to find something to hold onto that can bring your mind back to reality. Choso makes it so hard. He is becoming more and more clingy to your liquids, and his hips are vibrating violently against yours, making you believe he might be bruising your cervix. You love it. You love every speck of pleasure flowing and rippling through your body. You love everything he’s giving your body at this moment.

“I-I know what you- Oh fuck. W-what you are,”

Huh?

The thought is almost pushed out of your head when he angles his hips to get deeper inside of you. Wet and dirty sounds of his balls hitting your clit are filling the air of the stretch room. Choso is rambling now. Your pretty pussy’s attempt to milk his cock until there was nothing is making him feel delirious. It just feels so good, so safe, so wet. God, you were so fucking wet for him. He continues his fucked out declaration,

“A-And I can tell y-you don’t like c-commitment, but please. Please let me k-keep you satisfied for all e-eternity.” His rough and insatiable pounding sends your mind to distant places while he pleads. 

With whatever coherent part of your brain is still there, you cower away at the proposition. Shaking your head rapidly in a ‘no’ motion. His harsh thrusts are practically felt in your womb, pushing your hips away when you scramble to grab something stable to hold you on the floor.

Of course, Choso doesn’t let you run away like that. He quickly brings your waist back against him, making sure that his cock is nestled in the deepest parts of your warmth for a moment before starting to thrust again. You’re forced to take it all, and he doesn’t even need to say a word to prevent you from trying that shit again.

Still, you whimper out,

“Chooo baby, I can’t- Ahhh! Can’t l-let you do that.”

Choso only frowns at the evident lie on your lips and pushes your entire body harder onto the mat. A loud gasp escapes your lips when you unexpectedly squirt all over the thin object due to the sudden pressure you feel on your cervix. He was so deep.

Choso doesn’t slow down; he only moans with staggering moans when your pussy sprays its juices on him. In fact, he goes faster. 

“P-Please, miss. I can make you feel this g-good whenever you want. I can- Fuckk. I promise I c-can always fuck you deep like t-this. I’ll worship you. I’d do anything you- anything you ask, just please. L-Let me.” 

It seems that Choso understood precisely what you needed, a bit of prodding and persuading. He’s sure that if someone happens to walk into the lobby, they’ll hear exactly what’s going on due to the loud squelching you both are making. But why does he want that? Why does he want everyone to know that he is the one making you cry out so pretty as if he were your god? Despite your brief resolve, you give the handsome man exactly what he asks. You.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes! M’all yours, Cho! M’cumming- Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m-”

The sounds you both made at the same time were too much for your lovemaking to drown out. With your dam breaking, your pussy twitching open and closed, and your tight pussy covering his heavy cock with splashes of clear liquid and your sweet, sweet cream, Choso gets a taste of heaven. He cums with you. His hand grips the sides of your hips so hard, even through your dark skin, that it might leave bruises. Your perfect pussy squeezing a heavy load out of the man so much that he was shaking when he felt it overfill your cunt. Fuck, you’re too much. 

Heavy breathing and a light pap sound coming from his cum dripping out of your poor pussy could barely be heard by both of you. Choso was in such a headspace that his mind needed to take a breather to gather what the fuck he was going to say to you in a few minutes, his dick softening inside you. You were feeling the after-effects of being fucked so good, buzzing in your right ear, spasming on a cock that’s still buried deep inside of you, and aches on your lower body.

You start to pull off of him, thinking that’s what he wants, but he immediately grabs your hips and keeps you still, still not getting over the euphoric feeling of your pussy on him. Choso realizes something, and at this moment, he feels the most embarrassed he has ever felt. He managed to get a girl's commitment without even knowing her name. 

“Um.. miss?”

You barely let out a whisper, “Yes, Cho?”

“… What’s your name?”

There’s a beat of silence. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Choso is pleading that you won’t hate him.

His thoughts were disrupted by a melodic laugh and a honey voice, “It’s Y/n, cutie.” 

Y/n? He finds that name so.. pretty. Almost as pretty as your body. Almost as pretty as the sight of your tight pussy creaming up and- 

Well, now he’s hard again. You won’t mind if he pleases you a little more, right? After all, he made a promise, and Choso is never known for breaking his promises.

tags🏷️:: @hatake05

tags🏷️:: @thickbihhwitdagapp

[axxa-the-allikatt]

This turned out longer than expected, but I just can’t resist slutty boys 😩.

***

Imagine,

Slutty boys, who love love love wearing cunty outfits whenever the two of you go to a party.

Slutty boys, who adore the fact that you’re so comfortable with them wearing gorgeous, yet quite revealing outfits out in parties, because you’re confident that you’d win if you ever threw hands with someone who was looking at your boyfriend the wrong way.

Slutty boys, who need to go shopping at least once in two weeks, because that sexy red dress that they wore last Sunday? That was so yesterday’s style.

Slutty boys, who go straight to that one store that has the most sexy dresses and lingerie, which also costs you about a human kidney, but hey, who would you spoil if not your gorgeous boyfriend?

Slutty boys, who always, always, ask your opinion about any revealing clothes, because if you don’t like it, then there is no point whatsoever in them buying such an outfit.

Slutty boys, who excitedly pick out the most jaw dropping gorgeous outfits, ones that fit their body so beautifully, pressing so perfectly against their hips and thighs.

Slutty boys, who make a show of presenting their outfits to you, walking out of the trial rooms in a slow pace, giving a little twirl once they reach you, before pressing their body against yours, asking you whether you like this outfit.

Slutty boys, who purr against your neck, as you tell them they are the most stunning, sexy thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. (And not a word of this was untrue. Heck, you would find them sexy if they wore baggy jeans and a t-shirt, a dress like this was making you almost go feral.)

Slutty boys, who only giggle and look up at you with feigned innocence, when you push them into the trial room, and lock the door behind you. What do you mean they were turning you on? They were totally not rubbing their hips against yours in a very suggestive manner.

Slutty boys, who, soon enough, lose all their cockiness, when you almost rip the dress off them (almost. that thing coat a fortune in itself), before pressing them into the wall, their back facing you, as you pull down their pretty, now soaked panties, leaving their thigh high stockings on.

Slutty boys, who let out a sinful moan as you shove the panties into their mouth. You had established a long time ago that they were a screamer, and the last thing you needed right now was the store workers to hear what was going on inside the small room.

Slutty boys, who hold onto their dear life, trying to grip onto something, anything, as you get down on your knees behind them, spreading their soft ass cheeks, and give a tentative lick to the ring of muscles, which clench under your warm tongue.

Slutty boys, who can barely stand, their wails and moans muffled by the panties, as your tongue coaxes the pretty pink hole, just enough for you to slide it inside.

Slutty boys, who barely last a few minutes of your tongue exploring their insides, their walls clenching painfully around your tongue, as they cum with a frightful shudder, the thick white liquid coating the mirror as it drips down to the floor.

Slutty boys, who sit still and look pretty, as you make them sit on the dressing chair and pull out a fresh panty out of your bag, (you always carried a pair of them, because knowing how needy your boyfriend was, and how little self-control you had, you were bound to end up in this situation at least once or twice a day), and slide them back on, pressing feathery kisses against their inner thighs.

Slutty boys, who you end up fucking after every dress they try on, then end up buying every single one of them, because how could you resist.

Slutty boys, who smirk and wink at the staff near the cash counter, who undeniably have heard everything that went on in the dressing room, traumatised looks evident on their faces.

Which turns you on again. Who wouldn’t be, when their gorgeous, slutty boyfriend flaunts their hickeys and cum stained stockings so shamelessly?

***

- Shidou. I don’t know how, when, where, but Shidou. Also Chigiri (duh), Reo, Hiori, Kaiser (these days, I’m scared to mention this boy, honestly.), Mitsuya, Baji, Kazutora, Hanma (definitely), Ran, Kokonoi ( @raythebestboiever ), Sanzu, Hua Cheng, Mu Qing (*snorts in gay*), Aventurine, Boothill, Scar (I feel like this freaky dude would fit in any kind of fic) + your favs 💅✨

[ceesimz]

Angel

What happens when the team finds out about your relationship? (Autistic reader x Barça Femení)

As always, the other parts of Reverie can be found here. This one gets a bit deep.

One thing you had come to learn about your new team was that they never shied away from gossip. Like most people, they did have their limits, but if it was gossip within the team, especially about any possible relationships, well… they simply couldn't be stopped.

You indulged in it of course, you're only human after all, you just hadn't prepared yourself for the moment that the topic was your love life. And it seemed that the team didn’t really take into account how you would feel about it all. 

If there was one thing that would send you into some kind of meltdown, it was people talking about you without you knowing. That was something that had plagued you as a teenager, and as ridiculous as it may seem to others, it was something that still sent you spiralling endlessly. All you wanted was to be liked and to fit in, whenever those things seemed at risk, it had you scurrying back into your shell and headfirst into a deep pit of anxiety. 

It had been a matter of weeks since you and Alexia got together, and an even shorter amount of time since you had confessed your love to each other, but living in the content bubble of privacy was everything you needed and more. A part of you loved the thrill of sneaking around, like how you both drive separately to and from training only to end up at the other's apartment afterwards, and how you both hide away in the corners of any cafés you come across. 

But the thing is, it seemed the two of you weren't quite as discreet as you thought. 

The morning it all came falling down was the same as any other day; you woke up in your bed with Alexia asleep on the other side of you, facing away as the sun shone into the room and lit up the tattoos on her back like an art display. Not long after you looked over at her did a smile appear, and you couldn’t resist shuffling up behind her and wrapping yourself around her body to nestle into her. Your alarm hadn’t gone off yet and the sun wasn’t fully up, meaning there was more than enough time to enjoy each other’s company before the day that faced you began. Mornings were your favourite, and if Alexia thought she was a morning person before you, you had come along and totally trumped her in that. The world was yours in the early hours of the day, it was peaceful and serene without the interruptions of life as the birds sang and the dew covered the grass. 

Apparently that particular morning was the calm before the storm. 

Alexia drove the pair of you to training, arriving earlier than the rest of the squad and going your separate ways once in the building, Alexia with some media commitments and you with a physio session for a slight knock picked up in the game a few days prior. Nobody else had shown up yet and they wouldn’t for some time, so the possibility that someone might pick up on something was far from your minds.

Apart from the one car parked up outside and the weirdly frequent amount of time spent together and the obvious love in each other’s eyes, there were no signs at all. Zero.

Perhaps you weren’t the only oblivious one in the relationship.

“-there is something going on, Mapi.” Jana smirked as she walked into the building alongside the older defender whilst Ingrid followed behind.

“There is nothing! Don’t ask me.” Mapi put on that classic confused look on her face and paired it with a shrug, desperately holding back a grin that she knew Ingrid would scold her for.

“Everybody can see the way Ale looks at her, and how she looks at Ale. I made a bet with Keira, please.” Jana continued, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear, which it was, before turning to Mapi again with a pleading look on her face.

“Jana.” Ingrid warned lightly, more than aware of the conversations that have been had by most of the team but way too concerned with how you'd react to it all. She assumed her teammates would have more sense about doing this about you, but apparently not.

“Come on, Mapi. Just shake your head or something, someone like you can’t keep a secret. And it’ll come out eventually so why not just say it now.” Jana had her arms wrapped around Mapi’s arms, tugging every so often to persuade her. 

“María, don't. Jana, there is nothing going on. Let them be.” The Norwegian gave her final warning, quite frankly tired of the topic and annoyed with her teammates' behaviour. 

It wasn’t only how Jana was acting now, it was the fact the majority of the team had been speculating for some time already, and though she had witnessed their nosiness before, this time around she was far from happy about it. She wasn’t really one to have so much intrigue in her teammates’ lives, she believed if they wanted to talk about it then they would, so there was no use in indulging in meaningless gossip that really had no benefits for anyone apart from satisfying the curiosity of people that had no business being interested anyway. That, added onto the fact she knew you would probably have some kind of meltdown if you overheard anything, meant she was sick to death of others’ careless actions.

However, by defending you, she had only made it worse.

“Oh, so there is something going on? That’s why Mapi isn’t talking?” Jana’s face lit up and Ingrid was instantly filled with dread from head to toe. Before she could stop the younger girl, she was already darting off to her other friends to share the new information. And that’s where the situation reached its peak.

You were more than fine, living blissfully unaware throughout the morning. Alexia was at your side, training was fun and light that day, and you had woken up feeling especially good that morning. Not much could stop you. The exclusion to that was of course the whole team gossipping about not only you, but Alexia too.

“You’re such a liar! I didn’t cheat, you’re the one that dropped your cards everywhere. My eyes were already looking in that direction, it just so happened to be that that’s where your cards landed.” You argued back at Alexia, stuck in a heated debate about how you had apparently cheated at a game of cards with her family the previous night. The blonde tutted in disagreement and gave you a light shove, suppressing a smile at the laugh you responded with.

“Already at the family game nights, huh?” Patri came up alongside you and smirked as her eyebrows raised, before she was quickly tugged away by Claudia, leaving you confused.

“What did she mean by that?” You turned to Alexia to see if she had any better understanding, only to find what looked like a resigned and slightly panicked expression on her face. “Ale?”

“Nothing, cariño, she is just teasing. Forget about it.” Her arm wrapped around your shoulder briefly as she gave you a quick reassuring hug, but she pulled away too soon to make you feel at ease. 

What she wasn’t clueing you in on was the seed of worry that Patri had just planted. Like Ingrid, Alexia also knew how you would react to the team finding out about the relationship before you were ready. To make matters worse, she had no idea what she could do to prevent the secret being revealed because it seemed like the damage had already been done. Sure, she was the captain, but that title means nothing when it comes to her personal life which had already been invaded by the people she thought knew better. There was nothing left to do but watch it all come falling down before her.

Despite the odd teasing remark from Patri, you were still in a fairly great mood. The same couldn’t be said for Ingrid and Alexia who sat at your table for lunch. It wasn’t often that you stayed for lunch, and you couldn’t have chosen a more unfortunate day to stay. Your two favourite people had pensive looks on their faces that stuck for the majority of lunch, putting you a little on edge throughout. 

Ultimately, though, secrets had to come to light at some point. You never planned for it to happen in the way it did. 

“Does the happy couple want to join us for dinner later?” Marta, of all people, asked with a grin as her hands landed on yours and Alexia’s shoulders as she came to stand behind you both.

“Marta!” Ingrid scolded immediately, but it was too late. 

“What? Everybody knows that Ale is wrapped around her finger. Didn’t take long, no?” She smirked down at you, taking no notice of the fact you had completely frozen.

Both Ingrid and Alexia rattled off arguments, trying their best to do damage control, though to no avail. The warning signs of an internalised meltdown were already taking over and shutting down your nervous system – the type of meltdown you knew was coming was sometimes the most exhausting type. Masking on its own took all of your energy, but masking an entire meltdown was a whole different thing. 

You weren’t safe here. There were eyes all around, people you weren’t too familiar with, and nothing in this room, in fact in the whole building, could help you regulate yourself. In only a matter of minutes, everything around you turned into a trigger.

Marta’s hand still sat on your shoulder. Your skin crawled with the sensation of at least thirty pairs of eyes on you. With each second that passed by, the noise of the cafeteria grew louder in your ears even though in reality it only quietened when people realised what was happening. 

Your hands trembled intensely under the table, you were sure Marta would be able to feel your entire body shaking, and your breathing quickened until hardly any oxygen was getting to your lungs. It was at that point where the intrusive thoughts kicked in. 

The cherry on top of the cake in this scenario too is that it wasn’t just about you, it was about Alexia too. So not only were you drowning in anxiety and fear and shame, you couldn’t cope with the guilt that came at the fact you had dragged Alexia into all this. 

Was now the time Alexia realised she could be with someone much better than you, now that the relationship was no longer secret? Now that you and all that was wrong with you wasn’t hidden behind apartment walls and cafe doors, would she be too embarrassed by you to stay? What would your teammates think? You hadn’t even been here for a full season yet, and you had already claimed their captain for yourself. 

Those were the kinds of things swirling around your mind as the world carried on around you, but they were merely a drop in the ocean and definitely not the worst of them. Some were unimaginable, to the point where if any allistic person were to ask what went through your mind during a meltdown, they would be horrified by the things they would hear. You wouldn’t wish a meltdown of any kind upon your worst enemy.

It was too much to handle. Too many eyes, too many opinions in one room, too many ways to be perceived. The only realistic option was leaving. 

The sound of your chair scraping against the floor as you abruptly stood up cut through the tension in the room, bringing everyone to a sudden silence as they watched you leave the room as quickly as possible without it being classed as running away. You had no idea where to go, but your legs were taking you anyway, and at that moment it felt like you were watching yourself in third person. You were in your body, but you weren’t present. Your mind was still back in that cafeteria, thinking and thinking over and over again, stuck in the fear of the fact you had just ruined the life you had built for yourself whilst you fully succumbed to the meltdown clawing its way into your body.

All you wanted to do was go home, to have the measly comfort of falling apart in the four walls of your flat, where you had the safety net of the fact that nobody was around to walk in on you. Instead, you had to settle for a place that still didn’t feel safe and never would. 

Somewhere in your subconscious you made the decision to find a spot away from everyone, ending up in a small, empty and unclaimed office. As always, your feet took you straight to the corner of the room furthest from the door, slumping down against the wall and sliding until you were sat on the floor. Your legs came up so that your knees were pressed tightly against your chest, further emphasised by the pressure your arms gave when they wrapped around your legs. It helped, the pressure your own embrace provided, but it was nowhere near enough to calm you down to a point where you could put a stop to everything happening inside of you.

There, in the safest environment you could find, you accepted the impending implosion, and let it wholly consume you. It wasn’t a meltdown filled with anger and frustration, the type that led to a whirlwind of destruction, but one that had your eyes flooding and overflowing with tears that would inevitably lead to a nasty migraine afterwards. But in that moment, there was no after. A meltdown came with the sense that the world was ending, that there wasn’t a life you could lead after it that wasn’t ruled by the intrusive thoughts which ruthlessly ran rampant through your mind becoming a reality. That really would be world-ending. 

For some time, you weren’t convinced you were breathing. Your lungs felt so constricted by the heaviness that weighed upon your chest that you weren’t sure you could stay conscious. There was ringing in your ears that deafened you almost, adding to how completely unaware you were of your surroundings. Nausea churned in your stomach, though you weren’t in the state of mind to be able to recognise if that was a result of the anxiety overwhelming you or the constant rocking back and forth you were doing. 

In fact, you were so oblivious, you didn’t notice the door swing open, nor did you hear the figure at the door shout down the hallway outside the room to announce you had been found. It was only when gentle hands lifted your head where it rested against your knees that you realised someone was in front of you. And who else would it be than Ingrid.

“Hey, snuppa.” The defender smiled sadly, hating how your face was completely void of emotion apart from the redness to your eyes and the tears still falling continuously down your cheeks.

It was in moments like this where Ingrid realised, no matter how much she tried, she will never fully understand the extent of the struggles you have. As she looked at you,  she saw that your face was empty, anyone who didn’t know would think you were just spaced out or something, but Ingrid knew there was a deadly storm kicking off in your mind. A storm whose weapons of choice were the tears streaming from your hauntingly blank eyes, and the sharp flashes of vicious words followed by the darkest clouds of shame and inadequacy. Nobody else would understand the pain of it, and it killed the defender that she couldn’t do a thing about that.

“I’m so sorry that happened in there. They shouldn’t have acted like that, not without coming to you first. They just… weren’t thinking.” 

Why didn’t they think about me?

“I should have made a better effort in getting them to stop talking about it.”

You knew? Why didn’t you make a better effort?

“They didn’t mean anything bad by it, it’s just them being clowns, you know what they’re like.”

What if they did mean something bad by it?

“Alexia is worried about you.”

I just want to go home.

“Home.” You whispered, shrinking back into yourself and away from the hands that were still on your cheeks. You hastily brushed away the remaining tears with shaking thumbs, though they were instantly replaced by new ones that didn’t hesitate to fall.

“I can take you home, that’s okay.” 

The person that helped you stand then, it wasn’t Ingrid. It was just a body, a face you didn’t recognise in your mid-meltdown daze. There was no longer a functioning world outside the confines of your beaten mind, your senses were completely overwhelmed to the point they no longer worked. An arm was wrapped around your waist as you were led to the car park, but all you could focus on was each step you took. Moving was difficult, so you poured all your remaining energy into making sure your legs could carry you to the car at least. 

Whether people watched you on the way to Ingrid’s car or not, you were passed the point of caring. The merciless thoughts weren’t tiring anytime soon but they had exhausted you, beating you down until you were completely mindless. They had prepared you for your team to hate you, so that was old news by the time you were being guided down the halls and no doubt past their curious stares. 

All of your belongings were left back in the changing rooms, including your phone and your change of clothes and everything else. Thankfully Ingrid was wise enough to know you didn’t care about any of those things now, all you wanted to do was go home, fall into bed, and never leave again.

That’s exactly what you did. The time walked by before you as you watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock on your bedside table. At some point, Ingrid had peaked her head in to check on you and Mapi had come along to drop off your things whilst an anxious Alexia waited in her car in case you wanted her.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t face her right now, probably not for the rest of the day either. It was easier to be the rejecter rather than the rejected. Too often were you the one going through all the pain that came with rejection, and experiencing it at the hands of Alexia might just end it all for you.

Figuring out where to go from here was something that would have to wait a while. Hours, days, weeks, you weren’t sure. It had been a tough day, the toughest in a while. Your last meltdown had been a destructive one – a performance that you deemed bad in a match you put way too much pressure on yourself for was enough reason to get so wildly angry, you had no choice but to act out. That was in the privacy of your own home though, not in a public setting, at work no less. The repercussions of it all were something you didn’t want to face.

So you stayed in bed. For hours, you didn’t move a muscle. The duvet covered you up to your shoulders and the scent of Alexia lingered on the fabric of the sheets, the most comforting mix of her perfume and the conditioner she used when showering the night before. And by the time the sun set, it felt like your bones had sunk into the mattress, as if you’d found yourself in quicksand or had fallen into concrete. There was no way you could make it out if you tried. 

Nothing, apart from being thousands of miles away from the situation you found yourself in, could entice you to move. 

—

“Have you heard from her yet?” Alexia asked desperately for perhaps the third time in ten minutes. 

“No, Ale.” Mapi sighed from the kitchen area. 

Ingrid and Mapi had decided to let Alexia stay with them, knowing that the older girl was probably going crazy as a result of her anxiety. The Norwegian was somewhat familiar with how these things go for you, your alone time to try and regulate was an important step of getting back to being your normal self. However, she also knew that being alone could sometimes make it worse. She was stuck in between those two possibilities, wondering when the right time to step in was. It just didn’t help when Alexia was pacing around the apartment or tapping her foot against the floor as she sat on the couch.

Mapi was making dinner for the three of them, whilst also ensuring there was an extra portion for you if you wanted to eat at any point that evening. They were all worried to some degree, but Alexia’s concern had reached new heights. Last time this happened to you, you were alone for the whole night with no one to comfort you, and that thought made her sick. All she wanted to do was see you at least, then from there she could figure out what to do to help. Yet, she was still inexperienced, so the only thing she trusted herself to do was to listen to Ingrid, the one who had been around for almost eleven years longer than she had. Her patience was wearing thin, however.

“I just want to see her, I-”

“Alexia, listen to me.” Ingrid dropped the laundry she was folding and headed over to where Alexia was. She sat down on the coffee table in front of her captain and sighed just like her girlfriend had done a moment ago. “In her mind, you’re probably the last person she wants to see right now.”

“But why! I don’t g-”

“Listen.” Ingrid said sternly, silencing the blonde. “I know you are worried, scared, whatever. We all are. But we have to put our emotions aside and wait for her. Meltdowns aren’t something that happen to you, they happen to her, so think about that for a second. She needs the time alone to regulate herself again, to allow her body to rest. It might not have looked extreme, but trust me when I say it was. Her own mind was attacking her but because she was in public, she forced it down and hid it. It’s so intense, when that happens, it’s not just a mental thing but a physical thing too. You have to remember that what she experiences is so different to anything we will ever know, so everything from this point on has to be on her terms. Okay?”

No matter what anyone said to her in that moment, Alexia knew she wouldn’t feel at all at ease until she saw you. But Ingrid’s words did help, even if it was only the tiniest bit. It settled her because most of all she trusted you. 

Once in the past, you had told her that your meltdowns were something that made you feel so out of control that you’d do anything to regain it back, to have some sense of the world again. Even if that meant extreme measures. That was the young, scared version of you though, you had told her. As an adult now, you were a lot… safer in your recovery methods. And she trusted you, she did, she just couldn’t help but feel sickeningly worried. Nobody could really blame her, it wasn’t a comforting thought to know she was in the same building as you, and yet there wasn’t a thing she could do other than wait it out.

“I… I love her though.” She knew her arguments were futile, but it felt better than sitting there and doing nothing.

“You love her?” Mapi asked in disbelief, followed by a tut from Ingrid.

“I love her. She knows that, right?” The blonde turned to the woman in front of her with a desperate look on her eyes.

“She does. She does, Alexia, and I know for a fact that she does.” Ingrid placed a hand on Alexia’s bouncing knee and squeezed it reassuringly; she understood how her captain was feeling, she’d been in her place plenty of times before. 

“I just want to take it all from her so she can feel better, so she knows I love her and I don’t blame her for today.” Alexia mumbled, fidgeting with the drawstring of her training shorts that she still hadn't changed out of. 

“I know. It's hard, but these are the times where she needs us by her side the most.” Ingrid stated quietly, hoping Alexia understood the gravity of her words.

“Forever, Ingrid, I will be by her side forever. I swear it.” Her eyes had gone wide and her shoulders had lifted up into a shrug to emphasise her promise. Ingrid didn't doubt her for a second.

As much as she tried to resist, as the evening dragged on, Ingrid’s patience started to wear away. Her concern was beginning to override her adamance to give you the space she thought you needed. She could tell, as she glanced around the quiet room save for the scraping of cutlery against ceramic, that Alexia and Mapi felt the same way. 

Alexia hardly moved from her spot in the corner of the sofa, staring out of the window as her leg bounced anxiously. Mapi didn’t know what to do with herself, because even though she wouldn’t really play a major part in helping you come down from the state you were in, bar a few terrible jokes here and there, her world fell off-kilt knowing you were enduring such an awful time. You weren’t as close with her as you were with Alexia and Ingrid, obviously, but she still saw you as such an important figure in her life that nothing was the same without you. She loved your near constant joy, you were quite possibly the happiest person she’d met, and that was a big statement coming from someone like her. Your glee was infectious, and she was certain that everybody felt the same kind of unease when you weren’t yourself.

The silence throughout the apartment that settled after dinner was so discomforting that waiting simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. Almost as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, they all hit their limit. It had been hours since anyone had seen or heard from you and waiting simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. No one was brave enough to say it though. If they all marched up to your apartment, god only knows what reaction you would have. Nobody wanted to be the person that broke your trust. 

It was Alexia that decided to take that risk. 

“What if I went and checked on her?” She broke the silence and glanced around nervously at the other two, who then looked at each apprehensively. “If she kicks me out, I will leave. But I cannot sit here and do nothing any longer. It’s killing me.”

A few thoughtful moments passed by, before Ingrid groaned quietly and buried her face into her hands. At that, Mapi pursed her lips and answered for her.

“I think there is nothing else we can do but try.” The shorter defender answered diplomatically, nodding as she spoke. “The spare key is on Ingrid’s keys.”

“Ingrid?” Alexia asked. It was important to her that she had Ingrid’s trust as the Norwegian had dealt with this countless times over the past decade.

“Yes. Go. Please be patient with her.” She pleaded in a fearful voice. At that, the Barcelona captain jumped up from her seat and went to leave instantly. 

In the weirdest way, it was hard for Ingrid to hand over this responsibility. Other than Mapi, you were the most important person in her life. She had been the person you go to for nearly eleven years – she had seen you at your worst and recently she’d seen you at your best. But with the introduction of Alexia into your life, as overjoyed as she was for you, it came with a strange sense of loss. Rationally she knew you were going nowhere of course, and yet she mostly felt… sad. It felt a little pathetic to her, that she thought of it like that, she just couldn’t help it. Mapi sensed her girlfriend’s feelings and moved to sit by her side immediately to comfort her, meanwhile Alexia couldn’t get out of the door quick enough.

Instead of taking the elevator, Alexia ran straight to the stairs and made her way up to your floor in mere seconds. The keys rattled in her hands as she headed to your apartment, and her hands shook as she tried to find the right key to unlock your door. When she missed the keyhole a couple times, she took a deep breath to calm herself and rolled her shoulders a couple times. In that split second, she knew, had you been there, you would have laughed at the slightly dramatic scene. As odd as that may seem, that little thought calmed her anxiety the tiniest bit, and with a final breath out, she unlocked the door.

Unsurprisingly, the lights were off in the apartment and the curtains were drawn, your way of blocking the world out. There wasn’t a sound, and her footsteps bounced off the walls as she walked through the flat until she reached your bedroom door. She knocked on quietly, trying not to disturb the apparent peace.

“It is just me, Alexia. May I come in, engel?” 

Exactly as she expected, she got no response. That was better than getting kicked out, she supposed.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

She opened the door and walked in on a scene that wasn’t so unfamiliar anymore, and she figured she best get used to it anyway if she planned on sticking around. You were on your side, facing away from the door, like you were when Ingrid had been the one to check on you the last time this happened. Even as she padded over to where you lay, she got no reaction. It wasn’t until she cautiously sat on the carpet, her back against the bedside drawers with her head turned towards you, that she confirmed you weren’t asleep. 

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see you were awake and staring absentmindedly straight ahead, through her even. Last time, she didn’t see this part of you. She only saw the by-product of Ingrid’s support and love. This was something that sent chills through her, not out of fear or intimidation or whatever, but because of the overload of emotions she felt at the sight. Never in her life had she felt such pain for someone else.

“Hi, amor.” She whispered. Truthfully, she had no idea what to do, or where to start. Rather foolishly, she had underestimated the whole thing. “Um… I didn’t want to leave you on your own any longer. I wanted to come check on you.” 

Normally, with everything Alexia did in her life, she had the confidence in knowing what she was doing and exactly how she was going to do it. This situation was something entirely different. But, if she was going to learn to do better for you when things like this happened, there was nothing she would rather do in this scenario than try. 

“Ingrid told me once that sometimes just sitting with you helps with the thoughts you have, so… I will wait here as long as you want me to. I love you.” 

She didn’t want to overwhelm you, but at the same time she couldn’t bear taking her eyes off of you. Just being by your side had eased some of her anxiety. She hoped it did the same for you.

“Today was a bad day, but that’s okay. Bad days are okay. You can come back from them. I remember you telling me that when this happens, it feels like the world is ending. I know I can’t stop your meltdowns but I will always be here to remind you that I love you more than anyone else I have ever met. And that people in your life adore you so much that nothing could change that. You are just you, all the time, and that might be my favourite thing in the world.”

The midfielder found herself rambling, which wasn’t something she did very often at all, but the words flowed continuously. Whether you could hear her or were taking anything she said on board, she didn’t mind. 

Fortunately, you could hear her, and you were taking everything she said and holding onto it for dear life. With each word she spoke, you felt yourself coming back more and more. Those voices had been shut out by Alexia’s tentative rambling. The tears that you knew would drop any second were the first sign of you becoming somewhat lucid again. 

“I am not angry or upset with you. Today wasn’t your fault. Not the outing, not the teasing, not the meltdown. You were just a passenger in it all, yet you got the worst of it. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Your voice was hoarse and hardly there when you spoke, and even though it was a short single syllable you uttered, it still cracked with emotion.

Alexia almost flinched at that, having not expected it at all.

“Hm?” She hummed, shuffling a little closer to the bed if that was at all possible.

“No sorrys.” You murmured. Alexia frowned, and she itched to reach out and stroke through your hair or cup your cheek or do anything to comfort you.

“Okay.” She nodded, unsure of what else to do. To scratch that itch from a moment ago, she brought her legs up and crossed her arms over her knees, a few fingertips of one hand outstretched to rest on the edge of the bed. “I… I don’t want you to feel guilty. I think, in the end, maybe it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about us. They shouldn’t have acted so nonchalantly about it, but I also don’t think we hid it too well.”

“You don’t have to be here.” You completely ignored what she had said, too focused on your shame instead. Shame that stemmed from the events back at the cafeteria, at not only having a meltdown which brought those feelings on anyway, but having one in front of your whole club. This one felt so much more complex than any others you’d had in a while.

Alexia’s resolve broke then – one of her hands cautiously reached under the duvet to find the hand of yours that wasn’t resting underneath your head. She found it, balled up tightly against your chest, and with both of her hands now, she unclenched it and covered it, gently bringing it to her mouth so she could press repetitive, soft kisses against your skin.

“I don't have to but I want to. I need to, for myself, because you are my girlfriend and I need to make sure you are okay. I love you no matter how you feel, and even if me being here doesn't make you feel much better, I'm just glad I’m here.”

Something about that struck a nerve. Before you knew it, those brewing tears made themselves known as they fell steadily. Alexia dropped your hand, which caused a brief moment of panic for you, until she rose to her knees and her hands landed delicately on your face instead. Her lips brushed against every tear that fell, kissing each one before leaning her forehead against yours.

“I love you. I don’t want you to ever doubt that.” She whispered, because some part of her knew that it was her portrayal of her adoration that had finally cracked you. 

It was exactly that. No matter how many times it was said, there was just some embedded insecurity within you that couldn’t accept it when you didn’t love yourself like this. Perhaps it would stay with you for life, but that didn’t seem so horrifying if Alexia reacted like this everytime the worst part of yourself was so clearly on show.

“You do make me feel better.” You manage to choke out in the midst of your sobs. 

Alexia couldn’t bear the feeling of not having you in her arms whilst you were crying so heavily, so she moved away only for a second before you felt the bed dip behind you. Then, she was gently urging you to roll over, which you did immediately. Her arms engulfed you entirely, and the pressure from her hug was so much more comforting than that of yours earlier in that heartless office. 

She let you get it all out, even if it did take a while, but even when your sobs had subsided, she didn’t move a muscle. For that, you were grateful. Being wrapped up and held tightly by her, your face buried in her chest, was so much better than laying on your own with nothing but the intrusions in your mind.

And when your thoughts cleared, you gained an ounce of clarity again. Neither of you spoke, but there had been enough emotions in the day that there wasn’t any need for them. There was just one thing that you had realised, the brightest silver lining: Alexia loved you. Truly and wholeheartedly, even if you didn’t understand it. Sure, she had said it in the past and shown it in various ways, though none of those occasions could ever live up to this one.

This one was her accepting the worst part of yourself. This was her sticking by you when you knew it was the hardest time to stay. This was it.

Having your relationship exposed might have seemed like the end of the world at the time, and though that thought hadn’t completely left yet, it had given way for two much better realistions. Firstly, Alexia loved you. And secondly, apparently you can’t mask love.

“It really was quite obvious, wasn’t it?” You would grimace the next morning when the pair of you ate breakfast in bed together. Your girlfriend, the woman that loved you, turned to you with an equally pinched face and you stared at each other for a few moments, until you broke out into laughter about it all.

That was the thing with Alexia – she made it all brighter and so, so much easier.

—

because what else do autistic people struggle with than the opinions of others 🫠 writing about a meltdown is hardddd so this took a lot for me to write, it's more than just writing anxiety when it comes to posting this one. it's depicting the part of myself i hate most. it's an unexplainable, awful awful experience but anyway i hope my words did it justice, i'm not sure about it but i hope you liked the story regardless 🫶🏼🧡

[lavandulawrites]

Carcass

Yandere Douma x reader

This is by far the most gory thing I’ve written (or at least posted).

Synopsis: Douma decides to show his love for you in the ways of punishing the woman who has harassed you countlessly.

Masterlist

Warnings: Douma is a warning himself, Douma is horrible in this, abuse (from a woman to reader), gore, violence, demon eating a human, someone gets eaten alive, Douma is head over heels in love with reader, manipulation, obsession, female reader, non of the violence is towards the reader except implied former abuse (not from Douma), Dead Dove: do not eat, let me know if I have missed anything

Word count: 1673

The hall was lit just enough so you could see the silhouettes of its contents. A young woman with long beautiful hair was sitting beside you on the tatami floor. By the door were multiple servants all dressed in white. Their face was turned downwards. The sliding doors slid open. The room froze as the long haired cult leader entered. It was like the air turned to ice and it burned whenever your breathed. Even though it was dark, you could see his jovial grin. His fangs as sharp and threatening as ever.

The woman besides you bowed and you followed after.

The man took a seat on the platform before you. “I am so glad you could come” his smile showing his sharp fangs. He spoke as you had a choice whether or not you would come when the cult leader asked for you. “You may leave us alone” he waved his hand at the servants. They bowed and fled the room silently like white ghosts.

He leaned forward. “What is your name dear?” his gaze was fixed on the woman beside you.

“Yui, sir” she bowed her head.

“Yui… What a beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful woman as yourself” his voice sweet, but uncanny.

She smiled and glanced at you with triumph in the corner of your eye. She was clearly happy with gaining the attention of the handsome cult leader.

He shifted his gaze to you. His rainbow eyes scanning your features for something. He hummed when he found what he was looking for.

“Miss Yui, wouldn’t you be so kind as to come up here?” he spoke in his honeyed voice while his eyes were still on you. You swallowed in fear, which caused him to laugh.

Yui rose to her feet and strutted to the platform, looking over her shoulder at you. Her red lips were twisted up into a taunting smile.

Douma patted his one of his crossed legs for her to sit. “You have suck beautiful hair…” he hummed as he held a strand up to his nose and sniffed it. “You see Yui… I have had such an exhausting day” he sighed.

“A person that I am quite fond of won’t respond to my advances” he turned towards her. “Can you believe such a thing? Luckily I have come up with a plan on how to get her closer.”

Yui looked at him with a confused expression, but quickly brushed it off. She smiled at him to continue

You looked down on you hands and knees wishing you could just disappear. Douma noticed your discomfort and laughed.

“Why the long face? Are you perhaps bored?” he tched. “Oh dear… We can’t have that” he shook his head and grinned. “Say what Yui. Why don’t we put on a show to entertain our little audience, hmm?”

Yui nodded. An obnoxious smile plastered on her beautiful face.

“I am so incredibly famished. Aren’t you, Yui?” he sighed dramatically as he looked at her through his long eyelashes.

“I suppose I am…” Yui answered sheepishly.

“Whatever should we do…” Douma sighed as he threw his hand back in an overly dramatic manner. He snapped his head back and raised his pointy finger upwards. “Oh! I have it!” he grinned and looked at Yui.

The black haired woman tilted her head at his sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you… Offer yourself to me?” his eyes beamed with mischief.

“My lord, I am not sure if I follow…” Yui’s voice filed with uncertainty.

Your hands harshly gripped the fabric of your clothing.

Douma must have noticed your movement given his widened smirk, but said nothing. His attention turned back to Yui. His fangs catching the light from the lanterns that hung on the walls. His long fingers gripped her shoulders. The claws of the demon digging into her clothing, almost ripping the fabric. He brought his nose down to her neck and inhaled. “Mmm… You smell heavenly, but not as good as my dearest” he snickered.

Yui gulped at his comment. Her brown eyes flickered to you.

“What is the matter Yui?” he tilted his head.

“N-nothing master…” she muttered with her eyes cast towards the floor.

“I thought so” he grinned. His pale hand moved to her neck and he pulled her closer. His face mere centimetres from hers. Pale blue nails dragged down her face leaving shudders. Douma’s eyes trained on you.

Your nails pressed crescent moons against your palms, your skin almost breaking. “Stop! Please Douma! Don’t do this!” you pleaded. Your voice was hoarse after many hours of not being used.

His smile widened. “You finally decided to grace us with your beautiful voice” his voice soft. His rainbow eyes bottomless as they gazed at you lovingly.

“I can however not stop this. Or rather, I won’t” his smile still as ever present. His pale hand yanked the ravenette’s head back, making her neck strained.

She yelped and instinctively tried to peel his hands away. Her struggles were met with the click of a tongue, which made her stop struggling.

“I am doing this because I love you, [Name]. Don’t ever think anything else” his expression blank save from his eyes which were blown wide and shinning. “I know how she has been treating you. I am just going to… teach her a lesson. That’s all.”

What made him look human before, was all gone. What remained was a monster with fangs and claws ready to tear apart its prey.

“I have been keeping an eye on you, Yui” his voice a low sneer. “My servants have told me how you treat my dear [Name]. Many days I’ve smelled you on her skin and hair. Don’t think her bruises go unnoticed” he leaned closer to her face.

“You are just a worthless piece of shit. You should have known your place and perhaps I would have speared your pathetic life” his jaw was clenched.

“I-I am sorry! I am sorry!” the woman cried as she felt his ice breath on her skin. Her dark eyes found yours as they sent you a silent plea. A plea for you to do anything to stop her death.

“Silence!” his shout uncharacteristic. “I did not give you permission to speak” his hold on her hair tightened.

He free hand wrapped itself around her neck. His nails digging into her skin making small droplets of blood break through it. “Oh how I have waited for this. How I have longed to rip you apart for your sins” with each word that left his mouth, his nails dug into her skin deeper.

She clawed at his hand, but to no avail. She was truly helpless in the grip of a wrathful demon. Blood dripped from her mouth as she watched you with tears in her eyes. You wanted to do something, but you knew it was nothing you could do. If you tried to stop him physically, he would only kill her faster and get more furious. Who knows who else he would then take his anger out on.

Gurgling sounds filled the room as his claws sunk in even deeper. With a giggle he ripped his hand out form her neck. His tongue leaped out and licked his bloodied hand. He sighed in delight. Yui desperately tried to stop the bleeding by pressing her hands on her wound, but the damage was to great. Her fate was sealed the first time she had glared at you.

“H…help…” she wheezed out. The gaping hole in her neck making you wanting to vomit. Veins were fully visible among with tendons. If you looked closely you could see the whiteness of her bones.

Douma pinned her down with a speed no human could possibly possess. He bit down on her shoulder and tore out a mouthful of fabric and flesh. The black haired woman screamed in terror and you thought your eardrums would explode.

“Douma!” you shouted. Your pleas feel on deaf ears as he continued to eat her alive. “Please stop!”

He didn’t spare you a single glance as he continued to tear of chunks of flesh from the screaming woman. His fangs were stained red and his pale skin speckled with blood. Despite the horrendous sight, he was utterly beautiful. It made you truly sick.

Douma’s claws dug into her chest and clutched around her heart. It was a wonder Yui wasn’t dead yet. “I’m feeling rather kind today, so I think we will stop for today” was all he said has he ripped out her heart. Her head fell back revealing her half eaten neck. Douma raised two of his fingers and flicked her forehead causing her head to tear of with a disgusting sound. With a thud it landed on the platform.

The jaws of the demon opened as he bit down on her heart. He hummed in delight as he chewed.

You closed your eyes and tried to swallow the bile that threatened to spill from your lips. You cheeks were damp with tears you hadn’t seemed to notice through the horrible act that had happened before you.

“I hate you. I really hate you” you sneered through clenched teeth. You couldn’t bear to look at the pale blond demon as he happily ate the heart of the woman who he had just brutally murdered.

“Mmm… you might say that now, but it won’t be long before you run into my arms” he chuckled. “You are making me feel, [Name]. I would have never thought I would experience love before I met you. So how could I possibly let you go? I love you so much that it hurts” he looked at with you such earnestness it took you by surprise

A splat sounded behind you as he threw the heart at the wall opposite of him. “I will be waiting my dear. Don’t disappoint me” you could feel his wile smile. Your skin felt as if it swirled up and died.

You truly hated him.

[sister-lucifer]

One Must Stake His Claim: Prologue 

Or: How It Started 

[Chapter One] [Masterlist]

Nightbringer Diavolo + Lucifer x Male Reader 

Genre: ? (Hard to say, it’s not really sweet enough to be fluff or harsh enough to be angst).

Summary: The first sprouts of a rivalry start to emerge when Diavolo makes his attraction to the new human painfully evident. 

Content/Warnings: Slightly suggestive but not really, just some sly implications, jealous Luci, smug Dia, oblivious MC, MC is referred to with he/him pronouns, this takes place at the beginning of Nightbringer when there’s still tension between Dia and Luci

A/N: This is stupidly self indulgent. Literally just me indulging in a fantasy i’ve been marinating in for days. I know for a fact I will be made fun of for this /lh

NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS!

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, PLEASE REBLOG! It’s easy, free, and it’s a great way to show creators some love by sharing their work!

“I want him.”

The words come out of Diavolo’s mouth so suddenly that Lucifer nearly chokes on air. 

They’re said with such a casual joviality, yet they feel so heavy, falling from the prince’s lips and crashing onto the pristine white tile at Lucifer’s feet. 

“…Y…You what…?”

“I want him,” Diavolo repeats simply, “He’s quite cute. I’m inclined to keep him for myself.” 

He nods in the direction that you just walked off in, and Lucifer looks down that hall just in time to catch the last glimpse of you before you disappear behind a door. His mouth hangs open in a terribly undignified manner as he slowly turns back to Diavolo. The demon prince laughs heartily, patting Lucifer’s shoulder as though he’s just said something hilarious. 

“What’s the look for, friend? Are you surprised that His Majesty could ever find time for genuine attraction between lavish soirées and keeping his nose in the air?”

He laughs again, rather fond of his own joke, and this time the sound makes Lucifer’s hands tremble as they resist the urge to ball into fists. 

“No,” Lucifer forces out, “I’m just surprised at your…” 

He pauses, fishing around for the right word. 

“…audacity.”

There’s a brief pause, then, before Diavolo’s laughter resumes, even more raucous than before. The prince simply can’t help himself. 

“Oh, Lucifer!” he manages through his fit, “You never were all that good at hiding your true feelings. Tell me, what about that bothers you so much?”

Lucifer is silent for a long few moments—partly because he despises trying to talk to Diavolo when he’s laughing so hard, and partly because he’s struggling to find the words to explain himself in a manner that will save his pride. 

“You talk as though you’ve some sort of…claim to him,” Lucifer begins, but he’s not sure how to continue. The last few notes of Diavolo’s laughter stop short as he quirks a brow curiously. 

“I only mean that…I wouldn’t expect you of all people to speak of him that way,” Lucifer finally says. 

“…You lie,” Diavolo says slowly. A sly grin slowly splits his face, and Lucifer swallows hard. 

“You lie,” he repeats, “there’s much more to it than that. You can hold a stone face all you’d like, old friend, but your eyes give it away. You’re angry, Lucifer. Why is that?”

Something in his voice says that he already knows, that the question is pointless and he simply wants to hear Lucifer say it for his own satisfaction. When Lucifer is silent, Diavolo only presses more. 

“Are you truly worried for the human’s dignity? Is that it? I haven’t even insulted him, and yet you scowl as though I’ve said something terrible, as if I’ve insulted his entire lineage. You’d never jump at the chance to defend your brothers that way over something so minor, but you do it for a mere human, a species you used to feel only apathy towards.  So, what is it? Do you know something about him that I don’t?”

It’s a stupid thing to even imply, that Lucifer may be privy to any knowledge that Diavolo is not. The demon prince knows all that goes on in his kingdom. 

The silence that settles over them is heavy. Diavolo is smiling with a horrid expression of self satisfaction, and it only makes Lucifer’s scowl deepen.  

Finally, Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and he can hardly hear his own voice. 

“You have no right.” 

You have no right to take him from me, that’s what he means, I deserve him more than you do. He doesn’t say it, but they both sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. 

Suddenly, Diavolo’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Oh, but I do, old friend,” Diavolo says matter-of-factly. He places a heavy hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“If I have no claim to him, then neither do you. Surely we can agree on that, no? After all, you’ve hardly done more than frown at him every moment he’s in the room. If that was your way of courting him, I’m afraid it’s failed you.”

Lucifer growls and pushes Diavolo’s hand away. 

“I won’t let you take him that easily,” he snaps. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Diavolo responds without a moment of hesitation, “I just hope you know what you’re getting into challenging a demon.” 

“You don’t scare me, don’t even try.”

Diavolo only hums in reply before promptly turning on his heel to leave. 

“In that case,” he says with a shrug, now standing in the doorway, “you should prepare for quite the spirited battle.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

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[gurugirl]

The Trio

A/N: just a little something quick I wrote up based on this request! Plot light, smut heavy.

🏳️‍🌈 Happy pride month babes! 🏳️‍🌈

Summary: Three strangers meet at a club and things get sexy. Featuring a MMF threesome + double penetration

Word Count: 3k

Warning: smut, oral sex, anal sex, strangers fucking (safe and consented), double penetration

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Harry went for a night out with no expectations for anything in particular. It was always in the back of his mind to find a hookup but it wasn’t a priority. If it happened, it happened.

The club entry was only $5 and the DJ spinning that night had exceptional taste, he thought. The space was dark, only illuminated by flashing colorful lights over the crowd of half-naked, sweaty bodies gyrating together.

Harry took a shot of tequila and then found a spot for himself to dance with the crowd of people. Letting the stress of the week wash away as he moved to the beat he felt himself loosen up bit by bit.

It wasn’t long before an attractive guy began to dance with him closely. Their chemistry was good, Harry could tell.

“I’m Roy,” he leaned in close and spoke into Harry’s ear, hand on his shoulder.

“Harry,” he smiled, continuing to move with his eyes on the handsome man in front of him.

.                 .

Y/n spotted the pair on the dancefloor from her place at the bar. She was working up a bit of liquid courage to get herself out there to dance when she saw them.

They were extremely attractive, both with wide grins, looking the other up and down. She wondered if they knew one another or if they were strangers who’d just met. She wouldn’t mind having them let her join. If they were into girls that is.

But she wasn’t at the club to feel insecure about herself or question anything. She was there to get laid. Girl, guy, anything in between… it didn’t matter. Y/n was a single woman who liked everyone and everything. But she did want to try something new and two hot men could be a bit of fun.

Working her way through the human sea of erotic dancing she got in close enough to the handsome duo. They were both about equal in height and quite fit. One had tattoos up the length of his arm but both were brunettes.

The one with tattoos locked eyes with her as she swayed her hips and his raspberry mouth turned up in a grin aimed at her.

And then they were all dancing together. She didn’t know how it had happened but the other had found his way behind her and the beat seemed to move them all together. Her short dress was riding up her thighs as she moved with the music but she didn’t care. That was the point; to show off what she had and if they might be interested then even better.

Clearly, they were both interested. When the one with tattoos placed his hand on her hip and he was just inches from her she could see his green eyes and smell his cologne. The man behind her pulled at her waist and spoke against her earlobe, “This okay?”

She nodded and turned to look at the man over her shoulder, “Don’t stop,” she smiled at him.

So they didn’t. Their bodies moved together and the brunette with tattoos and the one without took turns dancing behind her, touching the exposed skin on her arms and thighs and touching one another, where she enjoyed watching the men as they began to kiss before they tugged at her to join and the trio smeared lips and tongues and slippery skin together as they continued writhing to the beat.

Y/n already had her pulse up from the attention but when she felt warm lips on her neck she was a goner. That was her on switch. All the way on. And he didn’t just give her a soft peck, he began to suck and felt him nip at her sensitive skin as she moaned.

The tattooed one ducked down to her other side and began licking her flesh before she felt his lips pucker and dot wet kisses on the opposite side of her neck. With her eyes closed she gasped at the feeling of being between them until a strong tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and she felt his mouth at her ear, “You taste good.”

Her mind was swirling and her panties were getting damp as he pressed his lips against hers before the other began to pull at them both until they were away from the swaying, steamy ocean of beings.

“I’m Harry,” the one with green eyes spoke and the other licked his lips and dragged his gaze down her body, “I’m Roy.”

“Y/n,” she spoke loudly so they could hear her softer voice over the music and that seemed like all anyone needed to agree to move their little trio elsewhere.

Roy’s apartment was nice with a good view of the city and a big open kitchen with high ceilings.

He poured shots for everyone before Harry’s big hand found the back of Roy’s neck and he dragged him in for a sloppy kiss. It only turned Y/n on even more. Their mouths and tongues wound together as Roy moaned and drew his arms over Harry’s shoulders.

Y/n could see by the way the front of their pants were bulking that they were ready to go.

Roy parted from the kiss with a soft gasp and he looked at Y/n, “Let’s go into my bedroom and get naked.”

The men watched as Y/n’s body was bared to them, soft hips and round tits, plush tummy and ass. She was gorgeous. Harry had removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants but when her breasts bounced from her bra he stopped everything to palm at her and lick her nipples into his mouth.

Roy stepped in behind and she felt his hands on her bum, spreading her ass as he tucked his crotch against her, “What do you like?” His finger smoothed over her anus and she knew what he meant.

“Everything. I like everything.”

Harry stood tall over her before he pushed his pants down his legs and his cock was swollen and thick the moment she looked down at him. He hadn’t been wearing underwear.

She felt Roy slide his tongue down her neck and then he moaned, “Fuck that’s a pretty cock, Harry,” as he reached around her frame to grip Harry’s fat dick.

It was true. Harry’s dick was nice and big and his body was a work of art. Inky tattoos scattered over his chest and arms and on his thigh, firm pecs, and broad shoulders.

When Roy let go of her he pulled Harry in by his hips and she watched the men frot against one another before Harry wrapped his big hand around Roy’s length and began pulling at his shaft.

Y/n sat down on the bed and watched for a moment as they stroked each other, lips slotted together. They rutted in together and then Harry parted from the kiss, hooded eyes and wet, pink lips as he knelt down in front of Roy and licked his wide tongue upward.

“Fuck…” Roy growled as he watched Harry wet his cock.

Y/n hadn’t had the chance to watch two men going at it in person before. But it was hotter than she expected. She leaned back onto one palm as she let her fingers stroke over her pussy. Harry took Roy like a pro, deep-throating him in one go and gagging slightly as he bobbed and drool dripped down his chin and neck.

Roy had his hands on the back of Harry’s head as he sucked him loudly. Smacking his lips around his cock and looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“Good boy… just like that…” Roy’s voice was hitched.

Y/n couldn’t resist but to climb down to where Harry was and take him in her hand, she stroked his thick cock up and down causing him to pop off Roy and look down at her, “You gonna suck me off, pretty?”

With a nod, she spat over his tip and smeared the saliva down his shaft before kneeling and wrapping her lips around his warm tip.

Both men were moaning and whining as they got their cocks sucked. She could taste Harry’s precome as she swallowed around him and coughed. But then she felt fingers on her ass before they slid around to find her pussy. She moaned when his fingers dragged through her wet crease and then he found her entrance, pressing inward to finger her.

She was already dripping and Harry’s long fingers inside of her easily pumped in and out and back into his knuckles.

“Mmm… let’s get in the bed. Get some condoms out…” Roy offered as he pulled at Harry’s hair, lifting him off. She sat up, spit pooling in her mouth as she swallowed it down.

Y/n and Harry climbed into bed as Roy brought out a box of condoms. Harry dragged her into his lap and pressed his mouth against hers softly before she felt Roy’s hands on her ass again and then felt his mouth, wetting her crevice before spitting over her anus.

“She’s got two really pretty holes here, Harry.”

Harry moaned into her mouth and parted from the kiss, his eyes on hers, “I bet she does. You like having all your holes filled up, Y/n?”

She nodded, “I think so. Never had it before but I know I’d like it. I love anal.”

Roy pulled at her middle, dragging her from Harry’s lap into his own, her back pressed into his chest as he groped her tits and Harry leaned down to attach his mouth to her wet pussy.

She felt Roy’s fingers circling around her anus, dipping his middle finger into her ass as Harry slid his tongue over her clit and slurped it into his mouth.

It wasn’t long before Roy had two lubed fingers deep in her bum while Harry had two of his fingers in her pussy as he sucked on her button. Harry had more slide since he was on the pussy side but the full feeling Y/n loved, having something inside of her ass, had her moaning gutturally into the room, head dropped back against Roy’s shoulder.

She could hear Roy panting in her ear as he worked her ass open, the lube bottle lying next to them on the bed had been put to good use. She was glad for it too because with everything slick and warm her body was buzzing in pleasure.

Her orgasm was unexpected. But it zipped through her body coming out in spurting gushes into Harry’s mouth as he fucked her with his fingers, stroking something inside that had her squirting and she’d never been with a man willing to drink it all up like him.

Her body was positioned on the bed gently as she came down and watched the men wrap their cocks in condoms before they began to make out again, both lay facing one another as Y/n recovered from her orgasm.

When she felt the bed rocking she turned to see Roy behind Harry, mounting him from and Harry had his face in the comforter as he moaned pathetically, hands gripping the blanket tight.

Roy slid in and out, his sight on the space where he was connected to Harry’s ass.

It was fucking sexy. Y/n watched the men fuck and she felt the need for more, getting turned on by the sounds they made together.

Roy grunted and pulled out as Harry whined at the loss of the cock that had just been stuffed in his ass.

“You want in?” Roy asked Y/n, his hand cupping her face gently.

She nodded, “Sure.” It was exactly what she wanted.

Harry donned a condom of his own as they had Y/n get in the front on her hands and knees before his girthy crown nudged into her aching hole, splitting her open as he thrust in.

Harry began to fuck into her, an easy pace that spread her open as she gently fingered at her clit and then she felt him still his hips as Roy pushed back into his ass, a desperate whimper falling from Harry’s mouth as he squeezed Y/n’s hips tight.

Roy groaned, “Fuck that’s a nice tight ass, Harry. Bet that feels good huh? Getting bottomed and topped at the same time, yeah? Like having a pussy on your cock and getting your ass filled up?”

Harry let out a choked moan and it almost sounded like he was in tears as he gasped, “Yes. Fuck yes…”

Harry fucked into Y/n in shallow thrusts, he didn’t need long strokes to reach deep, he was already so lengthy and thick she felt every inch of him as he rutted into her, but the hottest part was the sounds falling from Harry’s lungs. He was in heaven. Getting his cock worked and his ass fucked at the same time was going to go down as the best thing ever.

The men grunted and panted as Y/n moaned and her sloppy pussy was gushy with every plunge of Harry’s cock. When her thighs started to quiver Roy pulled back and grabbed Harry’s hips to slide him from her.

“You want two cocks in one, baby,” Roy asked her as he tore his condom off and reached for a fresh one.

She had been so close to her second orgasm and now all she wanted was her release. She nodded, “Yes. Sounds so good. Please.”

Harry got onto his back and pulled Y/n with him to straddle his lap, as Roy came up behind her, hands on her hips.

She stared down into Harry’s moony eyes as she lowered back down on his heavy cock and gasped, “Fuck you’re so big. God…”

Harry lifted his hips up with a smirk as she panted, her palms pressed into his chest when she felt Roy drizzle lube all over her anus and spread it inside. She began to ride Harry gently as Roy fingered her ass. But then she felt him shift and his fingers were gone before his cock was pressing into her backside, the initial stinging ache of him filling her up had her halting her hips and gritting her teeth.

Harry lifted his hand to her face and cooed at her, “You okay? Is it too much?”

Shaking her head no she dropped her mouth open, “Oh… it’s… shit… fuck me…”

Incoherent strings of words fell from her mouth as she pushed back against Roy and moaned. She loved anal. She’d done it plenty, but the feeling of having both holes stuffed at once was something on a different level.

And once they got moving her brain was melted and she began to drool warm puddles of saliva over Harry’s chest as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Both men panted and moaned as they fucked into their respective wet holes. Gushy and soft and warm, the sound of skin smacking together, stunted moans and garbled gasps, a gentle creak in the bed.

It wasn’t like anything she’d experienced before but now she was hooked. Getting fucked by two men was going to be a necessary indulgence from now on. She loved the feeling of being nothing but a wet, warm hole.

Roy’s fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her flush against himself, balls glued against Harry’s cock as Harry thrust upward. Harry moaned and she felt his hands on her face, pulling her down so he could kiss her as he fucked into her from below.

Her guts and her insides were mush as they used her holes to find their release. Everything was so full and so wet as Harry lapped into her mouth and sipped at her tongue.

“Oh fuck, she likes this Harry. Got her clenching around me tight…” Roy cooed.

Both her cunt and her anus were clamping down on the separate cocks moving in and out as she quivered and moaned into Harry’s mouth. She writhed her hips, dragging her clit into Harry’s pelvis sending sparks through her spine and her limbs.

“Oh my god…” she moaned loudly, lifting her mouth from Harry’s as she inhaled. Both men were grinding into her deeply, her clit being worked and nudged at every thrust of Harry’s hips.

When the men felt her tense up as she started to come they both began to rail into her little holes a bit faster, chasing their own orgasms. Y/n arched her back as her ears rang and she felt Harry inside of her pussy throbbing before she felt Roy’s cock pulsing.

The trio moaned together as they each came. The men pumped into their condoms, Roy threw his head back when he could no longer keep his eyes open and pinned on the space his cock was taking up inside the pretty girl.

Chests heaved and slippery genitals slowed inside of her as she collapsed onto Harry’s chest and Roy leaned over her back to kiss her shoulder blades. Hearts beat in unison as they came down and caught their breaths.

She felt a hand on her ass squeezing, “You okay?”

She nodded into Harry’s muscled pec, “Mmhmmm…”

Harry’s laugh vibrated into her cheek and she felt Roy slowly pull himself from her.

She was rolled to her back like a rag doll as the men cleaned themselves and helped her wipe up. She could hear their deep voices whispering, a bright laugh filled the space before she felt a warm hand on her hip and another on her tummy, “Do you need to call anyone before you fall asleep?”

Blinking her eyes open she shook her head, “No. Is it okay?”

Roy rubbed her belly, “You can sleep if you need to. We’re just gonna crash here together if you’re alright with it.”

She turned to see Harry on his side next to her, hand on her hip with his eyes closed, a faint smile on his mouth.

Placing her palm over Harry’s hand and her other over Roy’s she closed her eyes and nodded before she drifted off to sleep, the exhausted men following right behind.

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[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Other Side - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.6k+

Summary: 

I shot back, then she told me I should speak up "I can't even hear you through the speaker"

Alternatively, 

No matter how much Yoongi had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you.

Warnings: angst, yoongi is a dilemma, he is suffering quite a lot too.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

A/N: Very first Yoongi's POV.

Taglist requests are closed for now

Read the next chapter

It is a human instinct to seek for what we don’t have and try to get our hands on it. 

Be it tangible or intangible - human beings will always run after what they don’t own and what they think they need. 

Yoongi is a human. 

So he, too, ran after everything he is not, everything he thought would fill the gaps of his soul, fit like a missing piece of a puzzle and make him whole. 

Hence, he fell in love with Lee Gyuri. 

Given the fact that Gyuri is everything he is not, he thought she would make him a perfect sphere. He thought his imperfectly titled earth would stand straight and spin round.

However, alarms of his mind set off very loudly whenever Gyuri brought forth the topic of marriage and kids and living together. 

He himself came from a broken family. He witnessed how his father and mother were once so in love but then suddenly they were drifting apart. 

A part of him believes that marriage ruins love. And he wanted to stay in love, without having to exchange vows and reproduce another life. 

But to his dismay, Gyuri thought his idea of love was absolutely absurd and it doesn’t make any sense. In the end, she decided to leave him, saying that his cold shoulders are hard to take, his distant persona hurt her beyond measure and that she thinks she’s the only one who is keeping this relationship alive. 

Hence, his four year old relationship came to an end just like that. 

Gyuri walked away and she took the larger part of yoongi with her. The part that was left, was unable to fall in love, unable to feel anything concrete, just unable to process human connection anymore. 

If Gyuri thought he never loved her properly, she should have seen him after her departure. Yoongi was devastated, broken, shattered beyond repair - and you only fall too hard when you climb too high, you only break too much when you love too hard. 

Yoongi wished Gyuri knew.  

For once Yoongi wished to be seen. 

And Yoongi felt seen. 

Yoongi felt the feeling of being seen in every corner of his skin, deep in his bones each and every time you looked at him with those knowing eyes. 

Ever since that night you picked him up, you have always looked at him with kindness. There was no pity, no curiosity in your eyes to unsettle him. 

If he dares to add then he has perceived affection in those eyes of yours. And by some magical force, you made him open up - something even Gyuri couldn’t do. 

If he is honest enough to admit then he would say that he was afraid of opening up to his former girlfriend, what if she ran away (which she did regardless).

But somehow you felt like a safe space - he could show the real him, the one that is scared and weak, and you wouldn’t judge him, you would embrace him (which you did every single time). 

And that is what kept him coming back to you again and again. 

Those quiet nights of shared understandings soon turned into something more - skin on skin, hands on body, mouth on mouth. Yoongi hated none of it. 

Yoongi started liking it all way too much. 

Soon enough he realized, it’s not always important to fill up each gap, to seek for a person who is everything we are not. 

Sometimes peace comes from alikeness. 

Sometimes peace comes from someone very much like you. 

And you are very much like him. 

Just like him you, too, belong to a broken family, prone to close yourself up around people, you don’t laugh too loud, talk too loud, you don’t say things you don’t mean. 

You like maintaining a distance. 

You like to hide behind a facade. 

Again, you are just like him. 

Even after knowing his views towards commitment, you never questioned him once. You never asked why he thinks what he thinks. You never once asked for anything more than what he could offer. You never demanded recognition from him. 

You never said anything but still Yoongi knew that you were falling in love with him. 

And right on that moment he knew - you would have been the one for him. Only if you two could travel to a parallel universe, where he wasn’t so pathetically in love with Gyuri, he would allow himself to fall for you. 

That day when Gyuri came back, when she gracefully stepped into his life again as if nothing happened - he didn’t know what to feel or what he was feeling. 

He didn’t know what if he was more happy or more regretful that the sand castle he built with you was about to tumble down sooner than he expected. 

He always feared waves but Gyuri in the shape of a wave - he both feared and loathed it. 

His sense of fear and resentment heightened when he felt you touching his knee under the table. You are just too kind, way too kind for your own good. 

You stayed in this arrangement even after knowing Yoongi wouldn’t be able to return your feelings and you were still trying to comfort him when you yourself knew things were coming to an inevitable end. 

At that moment Yoongi wished he never loved Gyuri to begin with. 

“I will not force you to do anything you don’t want, Yoongi. I promise, I will not fight. Let’s give each other another chance please. I- I have been missing you terribly.” Gyuri had said standing behind the closed wooden door of the meeting room. 

Yoongi’s heart lurched inside his chest a bit. 

But it’s not the flattering kind. 

When he looked into her eyes, he found sincerity but he couldn’t see himself reflecting in them. 

That is why he said, “I don’t know, Gyuri. I don’t think it will be ideal for us -” 

“I know the damage is done. But please please let’s try once more. Three months, let’s try for three months, for the sake of old times, our memories, for our love. I love you, Yoongi. And I know you love me too. So, please.” Gyuri had cut him off desperately. 

Yoongi thought then. Getting into this trial with Gyuri would mean leaving you behind. Leaving you behind would mean setting you free from his grasps. 

If Yoongi sets you free, you can move on and find everything that he can’t provide you with - love, a lover, maybe even a home. 

So he had said yes.

“I love you so much.” Gyuri murmured on his chest. 

“I love you too.” Yoongi didn’t mean it. 

“.... but the lyrics just won’t come out. I have been trying to write ….” 

For a fleeting moment, Yoongi heard Gyuri saying something about the lyrics but his brain didn’t register anything solid. 

He had been zoning out, staring at the door, waiting for you to come in with your notebook and ipad, give everyone a tight-lipped smile and a muffled greeting and settle somewhere near him. But you were nowhere to be found.  

When the door creaked open, his heart creaked too, only to be disappointed when Namjoon slipped in. 

A moment later his heart creaked and cracked even more when Namjoon announced you had withdrawn from the project. 

He should have felt relieved then. This is what he wanted, he wanted to set you free from his painful grip. 

But that didn't mean he wouldn’t feel an unexplainable pain in his chest. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel something important sliding through his fingers. 

At that moment Yoongi realized, he did the forbidden. 

He got attached to you. 

Every pore in Yoongi’s body oozed relief when he saw you for the first time in a month. 

You look distressed but you look beautiful regardless. 

He tried his best to appear nonchalant, stoic so that you don’t get a hint of the tempest that had been raging inside of him. 

No matter how much he had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you - how you silently cried with him that night, how you didn’t hold him back when he left, how you didn’t object when he ended it all. 

For once he wished you wouldn’t be so much like him. 

For once he wished for you to ask something more from him. 

“I can take care of it myself, Yoongi. You have a life to lead, you have better days ahead now, why would you even care about me? I was just a fleeting chapter anyway. Please- please don’t act like our time together meant anything to you. Please, I beg.” you broke down right before his eyes. 

If he is reading between the lines properly then is that animosity? 

Are you angry with him? 

If he riles you up more will you confess? Will you ask for more?

Will you… will you ask him to come back? His thoughts swirled inside him making him feel dizzy.

“wasn’t it a given? A silent agreement that our time together wouldn’t mean much to any of us?” he pushed you more, even though he knew it wasn’t the right thing to say but he tried to pull the truth or the demand or whatever might it be, out of you. 

And he didn’t even know why? 

What does he even want? 

Does he want you? Even the thought of wanting someone other than Gyuri scared him to death. 

You nodded, “Yeah. You are right. Forget I have said anything. Bye.” 

And with that you were gone. 

For the second time in life Yoongi faced a loss. 

However, unlike the first time, this time it was his fault. This time, he knew, a second chance would probably never come by. 

He should have felt relief. 

He felt a prospect of quiet, peaceful love sliding through his fingers instead.

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[pettyprocrastination]

More security guard!simon thoughts.

He has to wear formal wear at work now. Which he hates- the man always feels constricted by a suit and tie in a way that will never be satiated no matter how much he adjusts his cuffs and the line of poor silk wrapped around his neck.

"For the love of Christ can you stop fidgeting? You're like a fucking child in church clothes." You peer over your laptop with narrowed eyes, letting your gaze focus on the way the fabric stretches over his muscles, buttons almost straining over his chest.

He says nothing. As usual.

"Maybe you wouldn't be so twitchy if you actually wore clothes that fit. You get paid enough to be able to afford a proper tailor.” 

His eyes snap up to your own and you can feel his scowl underneath that stupid mask and can’t find the smile that it brings to your face. Annoying your obliged shadow has become one of the few joys in your day. 

“Don’t need new clothes.” 

“Yeah sure, tell that to the button that’s fighting for its life right now. If that thing flies off and takes my eye out, I’ll sue.” 

“I’m sure you have a lawyer on retainer.” “Several actually. Along with a very talented tailor who has done beautiful work for the past three weddings I’ve had to attend.” 

“All for your father?” 

“And each blushing bride-that-was-once-to-be that still feels the need to send me a christmas card.” 

Simon feels his phone vibrate in the pocket of his slacks. Before he has a chance to reach for it- you confirm his curiosity. 

“You have a meeting with him Saturday morning, he’ll do your measurements and then have your clothes ready for you on monday. I’ve sent the address to you and I expect the next time you come into my office, you’ll look like a normal human being and not a weightlifter stuffed into his old communion suit.” The chair creaks under his weight as he leans forward, eyes narrowing into slits as yours don’t bother looking up from your computer screen as you continue to read whatever fucking proposal you’ve been glued to all morning.

“You know-” He rasps. “I work for your father. Not for you, don’t forget that.” 

Your gaze flicks up to find his own and he’s taken aback by the thin smile that stretches over your face and the smug twinkle in your eye that makes him realize perhaps the two are one in the same. 

“The appointment is 9 a.m, Riley. I’m sure your time in the military has made you quite the early riser.” 

Simon has learned you have an interesting way of always getting what you want, even if you end up hating it in the end. 

Which is how he finds himself standing before a wrinkled old man taking his inseam at 9:30 in the fucking morning- telling him that he should stick to muted colors for his ties from now on. Something like burgundy and dark greens because “she says it’s a complementary color for your eyes and I’m inclined to agree.”

[cmkren]

— a human’s touch

; house x gn! reader

Maybe in some other lifetime romanticism wasn’t lost to House. That he had grown into a man capable of giving clear-cut affections— and capable of receiving it as well. The first ever puzzle he never wanted to solve, and it was of his heart. You, on the other hand, couldn’t give a damn about it all. You tied yourself to him after all.

In your lap, maybe that fact of House’s could be forgotten. For an hour or two.

a/n: i’ve never written for house, or house md at all. Currently in s4, and I’m just so attached to this crowd of misfits. I’m sorry if he ends up ooc— I just wanted to write something as close to fluff as I can with house LMAO 😭

tws; nothing you wouldn’t find in the show — 1.08k words

“What, are we playing mommy and her sexually frustrated boytoy? I don’t recall putting this into the search bar.”

“I don’t think you’re young and spry enough to be playing the pool boy in this scenario. Take as much offence as you’d want to that shocking revelation.”

Despite the very particular banter, nothing nefarious was happening in this scene. It was quite normal actually. In the tidiness of his apartment the two steeped in each other’s presence. Steeped may have been a strange word for it, but it fit the two. House was chatty like always, but even now and then he had grown quiet. Either getting caught by a specific feature of his partner (still thick on his tongue, not something he ever says really) or deep in his own thoughts.

What prompted him to make the off handed remark? Some might ask, especially when they were having such a peaceful moment!

The obvious answer would be because he’s House. What else was he supposed to do? The not-so-obvious answer was the strange feeling in his chest, as his head lay against the thighs of the person he oh-so cautiously let pull him down to such a position. If he turned his head sideways, you’d most certainly feel the prick of his unkempt beard.

He flexes his fingers, arms sort of kept… limp. Close to his chest. The pale blue of his eyes looking up to the other, brow wrinkled into a furrow as he felt awkward. He only allowed himself to be so hesitant for a second more before he went slack jawed and widened his eyes— a mockery of coming to another ‘revelation’.

“Oh! Pray tell me then, what are we?” Spoken like a young teenager picking out lines from a rom-com they watched the day before to aid them in romantic endeavours. His arms even moving just the slightest to resemble a ‘gosh darn it!’ kind of movement. That garnered an amused noise out of you, your hand very gently resting atop his mess of hair.

“Not we, you. What you are, is a man who can’t even sit still and let me dote on you. So I resorted to,” your free hand gestured to him. Legs stretched and resting on the arm rest of his couch, his head comfortably in your lap, “this.”

Then it was House’s turn to give a little snort.

“What you’ve resorted to is crippling a cripple. Can’t move! Should I go dial 911? Or are you going to kick my legs from behind just as I reach my phone?” This time, there wasn’t any sort of sound akin to laughter. Instead, you gave the hairs atop his head a bit of a tug. A warning.

A grunt left him, his eye wincing a little from the sensation but his wit outran any sort of complaint, “Pineapple! Oh— right we aren’t doing anything like that.” He still shot you a half-hearted look. All the playing around didn’t get him anything but a gentle expression though, a soft look in your eye that said that you would put up with him more than he could ever dream of.

A look he’d seen, but never truly appreciated. He wasn’t quite sure if he did so, even now.

“I would tell you to stop being stupid, but I know I could never stop that.”

“Wow, thanks.”

The way you leaned down to give press a kiss atop his forehead spoke to the fact that you never meant any malice or exasperation in their words. Sure, there was bound to be exhaustion, everyone had breaking points. You were always so lenient with him. Even if you wouldn’t admit that yourself.

Suppose in a way, they understood each other like that.

House didn’t react much to the kiss. You gave a lot of those, so. He didn’t say anything though, so that was either a good indication or a bad indication. 50/50, who knows maybe you should flip a coin.

“Good day at the hospital?” You mumbled, slowly twirling the short strands on his head, coiling them around your fingers. House’s face visibly relaxed, only flexing and moving as he responded. “Oh, yeah, like Santa’s little workshop there. Bundle of joy, fun bright lights.” He muttered, eyes closing for a moment.

Everyone knew that his days were full of pain. He made sure everyone knew, actually. Always made sure that everyone had to be dragged down with him. With you though, he toned it down. Just a little bit.

Your hand caressed the side of his face, gliding down the rough surface and down his scraggly beard. Mindless shapes formed along his skin, his eyes trained on your face. Whether your face would contort the longer you looked at him. As if waiting for you to have a revelation of your own— that he wasn’t who you wanted to spend your time with. That’d you’d wake up soon. Wake up from the dream you seemed so content with, him in your lap and the carefulness of your gestures.

“Something on my face?” Your hand trailed back up to his cheekbone, before pinching the skin there. A smile on your face, for him. For a moment, he stayed silent. Lips that were once parted were now pursed into a tight line, furrow of his brows suggested that he was thinking again.

The longer you waited though, the lighter your touch became. As if you were drawing back. An end to a gentle moment.

“No,” his hands shot up, taking yours in his own. His eyes firm, before they would soften and close as he brought your hands to his face. “Keep it this way a little longer.” For once, not a quip. A moment of genuine love, one that came out of him thinking this was all but fleeting.

In reality, you hardly moved at all.

You were just going to shift, hopefully making him more comfortable if he had felt the position a little awkward. Instead he cradled your hands as if they were the one thing keeping him off his pills. Even just for a short amount of time. Your shoulders went lax, tilting your head as you gave a faint smile. “Okay.” Was all you said.

“I’d rather have you touch me than the old reliables here,” one of his hands let go, giving a bit of a jazzy shake as if to emphasize, “god knows I’ve touched myself enough. Your hands are softer.” You snorted.

“I don’t doubt it.”

[creaseevans]

Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons - Toji Fushiguro

Toji's the kind of guy...

SFW:

Toji’s the type of guy to take his time to ask you out. He’s not in a hurry and he’s exactly confident enough to know that he’s caught your eye, and that you won’t be looking away anytime soon.

You should know that if there’s a first date, there’s about to be many more. He doesn’t do this a lot. “Dating” is too much fucking time and energy—but you? You’re quite the hidden gem, found by him and worth your weight in gold and diamonds. He’s willing to try it a little while.

Toji’s the kind of guy to eat his burger in two to three bites, max. He’s got a large (and perfect) bite, like the human edition of a shark. He can fit an entire slice of large pizza in his mouth at once. Killer jawline, too. He knows how good he looks when he eats, even if it’s messy and unmannered. 

Toji’s not a jealous guy, because he’s way too secure with himself. But he is human, so it does happen from time to time. Shockingly, though, his jealousy isn’t sparked by obvious things like if someone touches you or catcalls you; he finds these hilarious, because he can just pull you into his side possessively and push the perpetrator (a bit too rough, at times) and snark something like “In your dreams, bud” or “Keep on wishing.” What does get him are simple, little things, like if a guy says something and you laugh too hard at it, or you listen too carefully to what they have to say. “So, what was so funny about what he said?” he’ll ask you, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “You know he’s a fuckin’ dork, right? He’s a loser.” Your co-worker once complimented your hairstyle in front of him (you’d clipped it up into an elegant twist) and Toji noticed you wore the style a few more times, taking a moment to admire it in the mirror. He wouldn’t let you put it up like that anymore. He got rid of the claw clip you needed for it while you weren’t home.

Toji’s the kind of guy to pretend not to know what something is just so he doesn’t have to buy it. You once spent an hour explaining to him and showing him what contact lenses are, and he kept playing stupid. “I just don’t understand what you’re talking about. There’s no such thing. I’m just gonna stick to these.”

“These” are reading glasses (he’s in his forties), but he doesn’t like to wear them around you because he hates how nerdy they look. You think they’re incredibly sexy and give him that sophisticated edge he usually skips out on.

Toji’s the kind of guy that hasn’t had a real haircut in ages. Anytime his hair is getting in his eyes he just takes a straight razor and shaves it down so long as it’s not touching his eyes anymore. When you first met him, he nearly had a mullet because the back was so neglected. You take him for haircuts now.

He’s the kind of guy that HATES tipping. You once tipped at a restaurant and he looked at you accusingly. “Why would you tip them $10? You could’ve given me that money for coffee on my way to work.”

Toji doesn’t buy you flowers (he won’t spend the money on a $28 bouquet). But if you both pass by somewhere that has flowers growing, he will rip them out to give to you. Especially if it’s off someone’s lawn. He likes to do it out of spite.

Toji doesn’t remember your birth date or anniversaries, but he does remember things like your food allergies and aversions, your favourite treats, what kind of music and movies you like, and your pet peeves. He stopped using certain slurs when he learned you didn’t approve of it. Taught his friends to stop using them, too.

Toji doesn’t have a wallet. He just stuffs everything free-reign into his pockets. You get him one for his birthday. He leaves it at home all the time. “This is why I just put everything in my pockets.”

Yeah, you moved in together pretty fast. He didn’t ask and neither did you. It just sort of happened. You guys went into a random building to “look around” (fuck in the elevators) and stumbled into an open house for one of the apartments. You live in it together now, and Toji pays 65% of the rent, which is a huge surprise because…(see next).

Toji cannot stay at one job long enough to save his life. He’s never made it past probation; the longest he stuck it out was 11 days. His resume looks like a shopping receipt, but he just can’t stand the whole bit: the office environment, the cubicles, the staff that never shut the fuck up, the constant meetings and team building exercises, signing a new birthday card every week AND tucking a bill of money into the envelope?? FUCK! He always quits before the week is up. He’ll come home and make up some excuse about being fired (he’s never been fired) and ask you to find some more job adverts for him. “This is gonna be the one, babe. I promise,” he says every time he starts somewhere new. You know it won’t be.

For the horrifying inventory of knives, blades, axes, hatchets, clubs, stars and a fucking firearm you discovered in one of the unopened boxes hidden deep into a closet (he shrugged that they were from a “past job”), Toji’s the sort of guy who’s scared of needles. Don’t talk to him about tattoos or nothing. Don’t you dare bring up vaccinations. He’ll pass out on the way to the clinic.

He doesn’t like his spine to be touched directly. It’s overstimulating and he’s quick to catch your hands when you try. Sometimes he can squeeze a bit too hard when he’s caught off guard.

Toji claims to not need deodorant. (He does need it.)

Toji doesn’t do his own laundry. One day, in the thick of a Bad Bitch episode, you put your foot down about it and told him to clean his own clothes. You then came home to him washing t-shirts and pants in the bathtub with your expensive skincare products. He used up about $300s’ worth of cleansers and scrubs in less than an hour. “I told you I’m not good at this shit!” he whined, having the audacity to play innocent. 

Toji teases you all the time about how he’s going to break your heart. Deep down, he believes that upon growing sick of his antics, you’ll actually be the one to break his; something he didn’t think he was capable of experiencing anymore. You don’t get sick of him, nor do you break his heart.

NSFW:

He takes his time to eye-fuck you, shamelessly and offensively, makes it obvious what he’s doing and leers wide when you scowl at him. He loves to show off his big, perfect teeth and wicked smile.

He’s the type of guy where when he finally does ask you out, he tells you exactly what to wear (“your littlest dress and heels”) and picks you up a few minutes late (he loves how pouty you get after waiting and almost thinking he’s about to blow you off). 

Toji’s the kind of guy to not care about being caught in public. He’ll start touching you anywhere, and he doesn’t care if it’s the first date. His fingers were already dancing on your knee and making the journey up your thigh during the car ride over. More than once, you pried his warm hand away with both of your own to hold it affectionately in your lap, your shiny eyes smiling so hard that he let you get away with being prudish about it. You missed the heat of his touch on your body right away.

He takes you to the club, buys you a couple of drinks, just enough to get you hazy and charmed. Then he takes you to the middle of the floor, and surrounded by dozens of bodies, he slinks up against you from behind to start muttering in your ear about “Why did you wear this dress? Tell me why you wore this,” while his gigantic, wandering hands grope your hips and crush them to the bone, grinding your ass back against his bricked up crotch. “Did you want me to touch you? You wanted me to do this to you, didn’t you?” As if you decided any of this.

Toji loves foreplay, for you especially. He likes to play with your tits when he knows people are looking, but the room is just dark enough and just clouded enough with smoke and machine-generated fog that nobody will actually see him rolling your nipples between the roughened pads of his fingers, your front against the wall and his front against your back. He cages you in on every side, protecting you from the world with his blanket of a body while also putting you on display every chance he gets. Your little sighs and protests of “No, Toji, stop! Someone’s gonna see,” are so precious to him. He knows someone is going to see, because someone is always looking at you. That’s the point: everyone is looking at you, but you’re only looking at and thinking of him.

He’s a narrator, surprisingly enough: everything he does to you, he describes it in your ear to the greatest extent possible. “Look how hard your nipples are getting when I tease them like this…Jesus, they’re getting so big. You never told me your tits were so soft and pretty. What if I suck on them right now? What if I sucked so hard that milk came out of them, baby? Would you let me do that?”

His favourite part of your body is your tits (see above) but your ass is a very close second. He grabs it, squeezes it, holds it, and smacks it every time you’re within reach. He wants to leave the outline of his hand on your cheek like a stencil so he can target the exact same perfect spot each time.

Toji’s the kind of guy to finger you just for fun. Whether he gets to come or not is out of the question, because watching you shake and tremble while you fuck yourself on his long, thick, knuckly digits is always a blockbuster delight. Feeling you clench up around them, periodically tighter and more delicious, is a gloat to his ego and fascination. Your delicate moans and whimpers while you spill over his palm and down his wrist is like a porno on repeat in the back of his mind, every minute of every day. And he shames you with his descriptions of it every time, because—again—he loves to narrate. “Aw, your lips are swallowing my fingers, sweetheart. Look at your pretty little pussy fluttering and pulsating while I finger you—you’re so fucking wet, princess. Why’re you so wet, hmm? You’re such a cocktease, you know that? Clenching like that, gripping me in so fucking hard—you gonna suck my cock in like that? Your pussy better sing and clench for my cock just like this, baby, just like how it is for my fingers, or I’m gonna be so upset…you don’t know what happens when my dick gets angry, do you?”

(Toji’s the kind of guy to hate condoms. He won’t wear them. Doesn’t matter what you say; don’t bother. He’ll get tested and show you that he’s clean, and he’ll (find a way to) pay for your contraceptives or Plan Bs. But he won’t wear a condom.)

He quite literally has the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. Not just in person, and not just from the fair amount of porn you’ve watched—he has the biggest dick you have ever seen. There are no arguments there. It’s a menacing thing, nearly the length of your forearm and the girth as thick as (if not more than) your wrist. He’s cut (he’s older; their generation is mostly circumcised) and clean, pubes trimmed to a stubble around the base. The length and balls are free of hair altogether. It’s a tanned colour, like the rest of his skin, but his tip is more warm toned and full of blood flow while the sac underneath is a touch darker with discolouration. His precum is translucent, almost clear (see below) and his boner looks sore to the touch.

Toji fucks. He fuuuuucks. He fucks you in positions you’ve never heard of, at angles and depths you didn’t know were possible. He actually rearranges your guts, moving everything aside to make room for himself, letting you know how deep he is when he places a hand against your navel and pushes in against the poke of his head. He loves the raspy gasp you let out when he does that. “How’s a little thing like you taking me in so deep, huh? I bet I’m hurting my little girl. I bet you never want me to stop.” You don’t, even though you always experience aftershocks and cramps when you’re done being ravaged. You don’t tell him this because the experience itself is too mesmerizing while it’s happening in real time. You also don’t tell him because deep down, you suspect that he doesn’t actually care about you enough to empathize with your pain or struggles.

He’s the kind of guy to always come inside you, no matter what. Whether it’s in your mouth or in the warm, slick confines of your lower chambers, he always finishes inside you. He doesn’t ask you if he can—and it’s not like he wouldn’t if you told him not to. He’s gonna do it anyways. His seed belongs inside of you, and there’s nothing that makes his head spin the way it does when he delivers every last drop of his offering deep into you, hoping it becomes part of you forever. He also loves watching it ooze out of you, though, and knowing he gave you more than enough to get the job done.

Oh, yeah, he wants to impregnate you. Big time. He relics the idea of his perfect genetic sequence being passed on to as many as possible. There should be miniature multiples of him running around all over the place. He used to donate sperm for cash flow All The Time in the past. He hopes to run into any potential kids he may have had/made one day, though he hopes it’s just a casual meet and greet and not, like, “Hey, I need to depend on you.” Cause he’s donated, like, A LOT of sperm, and he does not have the kind of riches it would take to sponsor almost a hundred kids.

Something about Toji screams that he wouldn’t mind sharing you with someone he trusts. He just gives off a threesome vibe, and you felt it since day one. It echoed every time he put you in a vulnerable position in public, in the way he smirked and laughed whenever men would hit on you or check you out. He “joked” with you about it a couple of times, too. “I wonder how pretty you’d look with two cocks inside of you.” “You can tell me if you want more, y’know. I don’t get offended. I know you love me too much.” He quickly laughed it off when you frowned and swatted him away. But then you met his friend—his best friend—Shiu Kong, and you knew Toji was up to something from the first moment he left you alone with him. You did end up having a threesome. You ended up having many more, in fact. And he was right: you did love him too much to think about anyone else once it was all done.