#cuz there’s a hint of it if you squint

[questionableart420]

💜 Screenshot redraws of my two favorite moments of the episode :3

❤️ can you tell who my favorites are

[speakofthedebbie]

imagined all the dialogue, now have to write it and explain the scene. smh, why cant life be easy for once

[tojisth3rdwife]

“Bout time you answered the damn phone..”

You wrinkle your nose at the hint of attitude in Toji’s deep voice, finding it a little cute since you knew that just his personality.

With your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, you continued working down the mountain of laundry in the basket on your living room floor.

“Uhm, rude?” you snort, tossing a freshly folded towel to join its appropriate pile before picking up another.

“What ever happened to ‘hello’ or ‘hey big booty’ ?”

“I reserve those types of greetings for girlfriends that pick up the first time I call.”

At that you roll your eyes, snatching up another towel.

“Girlfriends? So theres others?” you begin folding it. The faint sound of echoe’d music and a muffled voice requesting assistance in the frangrance department let you know Toji was out and about, more than likely at some convenience store.

The big nasty was probably restocking on condoms and that special brand of lube he used on you a while back. The one that resulted in you needing to change your bed sheets.

Twice.

“See, I could play your game and say there are others just to fuck with you....’xcuse me...” he pauses to say to an older woman he squeezed past in the aisle.

“...but you cant take a damn joke and I plan on getting some tonight.”

You pert your lips at the statement but dont argue. Even in the several months you and Toji became exclusive, it was true that his sense of humor surpassed yours when it came to him and other women. You werent nearly as possessive or jealous as he was (usually), but he knew better than to test it.

“Smart. Im glad you value your life. Talk to me nice.” you respond in the most brattish way, making your boyfriend chuckle dryly on the other end of the phone.

“Shut up. Anyway, what kind of soap do you use again? I vaguely remember what it looks like but theres 5 bottles that match what I see in my brain.”

“Soap? Like to wash my body?” you furrow your brow distractedly, continuing to fold clothes.

“Naw to wash your dog.” he tosses back sarcasticaly. If there was a camera crew in your house, you’d be glancing at them with a deadpanned look of annoyance.

You didnt have a dog.

“Would it be so hard just to answer a question? I swear I dont like you sometimes.” you mutter, flapping out the pair of pants you were about to fold and Toji’s smirk is as audidle as his snickering.

“But you love me all the time. Now stay focused. Soap. The kind you wash your ass with.”

You sigh in exasperation at the simple question. And it was for sure simple ,but as many times as Toji had been in your shower, sometimes with you, he should be able to know which damn soap you used.

Old ass..

“Dr.Bronner’s babe. Unscented..”

“The light blue one. See, I knew I remembered it.”

Toji snatches the largest bottle of pure castile soap from the shelves. His massive hand grasps it effortlessly as he made his way to another aisle, squinting at a display of electric shavers curiously.

“Well alright. Thats all I wanted. Carry on cheating or whatever you doing..”

You let out a loud breath, tossing the pair of pants aside.

“Why are you like this? That’s not funny, you know?”

“What?” Toji strolls leisurely down the shave aisle now, eyeing the array of products.

“You saying shit like that. Accusing me of cheating every time I don’t pick up or text back fast. Its irritating..” you huff, aggressively flapping out another pair of sweats that you immediately knew belonged to Toji.

“Is it?”

“Is it?” You mock him, balling up his oversized joggers scornfully and throwing them on the floor. God he was annoying. If he werent so fine, and tall, and big..

And fit.

And sexy.

And intimidating.

And..

What were we talking about?

A breathy chuckle vibrates against your ear, as well as the echoing *beep* of the cashiers growing louder, both yanking you off your tangent.

“Aww, mama. Don’t be like that. I only say it as a joke. I know you’d never cheat on me ‘cuz my dick’s too big.” Toji remarks all too casually, not even acknowledging the way an old man shoots him a disgustingly surprised look at his crudeness out loud as he walked past him.

You snort in amusement and shake your head.

“True. But don’t be so sure. Theres plenty of trees in the forest.” You remark cheekily, glad that you weren’t in front of him after saying that. Part of you wished you were though. Watching those pretty beady eyes of his shrink with his glare was equal parts scary and arousing. To your surprise, Toji finds your rebuttal funny enough to laugh.

“You must really want me to fold your ass like a futon, huh? Just wait, I’ll be by there later.”

Toji turns to get in line at a check out lane. A little girl standing with her mother behind him stares up at his back with wide eyes, probably never seeing a man of his size and stature. Ya boy was scraping at 6’3 barefoot, so in shoes he was surely around 6’4. Even you would find yourself gaping up at him when he stood in front of you.

“Yeah? What you gon do?

*beep*

Toji shuffles forward, the scarred corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

“Fold you like a futon. Duh. You want candy?” He quickly changes the subject distractedly, falling victim to the mini wall of chocolate bars and gum.

The threat makes your core flutter while his subtle way of always keeping you in mind had you biting down on your grin as you continued folding laundry.

“Nooo, Baby. I don’t want candy. Thank you though.” You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Well dont ask for some of mine ‘cuz I aint sharing..” Toji grumbles, still picking up two candy bars.

“Mmhmm.”

Having folded the final article of clothing and setting it aside, you sink back into the couch cushions with a huff, lifting your hand to untuck your phone and hold it against your ear.

“So wait, thats why you were blowing me up? Over soap?”

“Basically. I wanted you to have your own for when you stay with me. I know you have sensitive skin and shit…” he responds before reciprocating the cashiers greeting as he set his items on the belt.

“Awwww DaddyBear, how considerate of you. I wanna kiss you now, instead of slapping your face”

“Youre too easy to impress woman. Its just soap. You leave shit at my apartment anyway so I figured you’d wanna have something to shower with too.”

“I know but it’s still sweet. Come over now so I kiss on you and touch your butt.”

Toji snorts at your antics, knowing damn well he wasn’t letting your hands go anywhere near his ass.

“Yeah yeah. I gotta swing by Shui’s to pick up some money then Im gonna head your way.”

“Ok. But wait, you still could have just texted me that. Why call and make a fuss?”

“Damn. Maybe I also just like hearing your whiny ass voice y’know?”

You sigh, your giddiness fading immediately.

“Just hurry up and come over, ass.”

“See? Can never take a joke.”

“Bye Toji.”

“See you later Big Booty..”

<call ended>

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

�� Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[arthenaa]

Could i ask for HCs of Mizu with a mommy kink? Like her liking to be called that? Thank you!

Mizu with a Mommy Kink (18+ mdni after the line) gender neutral! reader

ALRIGHT

Honestly, the kink stemmed from the fact that she's a natural protector

She may have a contradicting personality with regards to socialization but overall, it's probably because it's influenced by the values and mindset that she learned from when she was young

Violence had never been the right answer and while the world continues to change influenced by the bloodbath in its history, why can't she make use of it as a way to save others?

yeahh getting philosophical in a fucking nsfw post YEAHHH

anyways, you and Mizu had been acquainted for a while now and she respects you enough to be somewhat vulnerable with you

It's the same with you as well, you regard Mizu as a close confidant of your life stories

It's safe to say that you know each other well enough despite how it looks

There have also been quite close calls that made your relationship with Mizu border something more than acquaintances slash friends with a question mark in bold (its for the emphasis)

So imagine to your surprise how worked up she gets over a joke you made after commenting on her natural need to protect

"Y'know," You lick your lips, eyes squinting as you assessed the woman before you quietly drinking her tea. "You have a natural sense of protecting. Kinda like a mommy."

The blue-eyed samurai freezes in her place

It was a look of horror at first and you were quite tipsy during that time (you two were lounging at your home)

So your thought process was, heyyy why not make fun of this mf while I have no shame

so you did

The look of horror, turned into being uncomfortable until her cheeks flushed to a deep shade of red

You've never seen someone change emotions in just a few seconds

You were enjoying this clearly

Mizu was having none of it and while the term did fluster and invoke horrors worthy enough of the judgment of Izanami no Mikoto

Fueled by her emotions, her secret-not-so-secret attraction towards you, and her need to shut you up, Mizu moved towards you

And now you're where you are now

NSFW

Soft dom with a hint of sadistic tendencies

She likes making you beg and plead for her to do something, then turn a 180 and praise you for your work

loves loves loves overstimulating you

I think its because she hasn't gotten any action over the past few years that all she's doing is take take take from you

You're writhing and shaking in the sheets with just her mouth and she hasn't even gone to her fingers yet

She loves looking down at you, reveling in the superiority that your submission to her brings

It makes her menacing tbh but its hot okay

This mf eats you up like a champ

Fast learner

Has a good stamina but her refractory period can take some time

so yeah it ultimately ends up with you overstimulating a dozen times before she finally gets to have her own release (also probs bc she prioritizes your pleasure over her own)

she loves it

She gives you reigns at first, just to let her know what to do and a few seconds later, your eyes are rolling in the back of your head

Quite manipulative in bed

Says a lot of things like, "you're mine right?", "say you want me", "tell mommy that she's all you need"

you indulge her manipulative tendencies tho

all of this is making you develop a praise kink omf

Sometimes gets overwhelmed by the pleasure and pushes you too far but thats okay cuz its mizu

Stops completely and stares you down when you stop saying mommy

That completely just puts you in your spot

Then her voice drops to a chill and calm tone and suddenly you're shivering and flushing at her stare

Know how people's eyes get duller when they're in the state of lust or smn

Hers get brighter for some reason

She likes positions that allow her to wrap her arms around you or where her body is either on top or covering you

yeahhh stems from the need to protect

After you and Mizu establish this kind of relationship, she begins to act more mischievous around you

MIZU IS MISCHIEVOUS damn, that mf will tease you like its nothing

she will eye you up with no shame, whisper in your ear like its not bothering you, and then act like she hasn't done anything at all

Esp when she gets joke gifts from the brothel like sex toys and what not

She will use them on you and you will limp for a week

More of a service-top rather than receiving

She likes the reactions she's pulling out of you and when you return the favor, she pampers you with so much love and affection and you just flush in shyness

yeaaaaa, its okay to be a red flag in bed as long as it's mizu

[nalpurey]

today is scara day so here’s the x reader version

reader is mostly gn but gets called ma’am once. scara is afab cuz trans scara>>>

dom!reader, sub!scaramouche/sub!wanderer mentions of sa, brief hurt/comfort, fluffy playful smut, the slightest hint of somnophilia if you squint, not proofread

As the flames danced, your shadows cast wide on the ground. You yawned, feeling settled in the familiarity of the campsite. Your traveling companion was always full of surprises, and tonight was no exception. He had requested a sleeping bag in your shared tent, much to your disbelief. “What? Just because I don’t need to doesn’t mean I can’t,” he had said, grinning mischievously. You had rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

The two of you had lit a bonfire and were sitting close to one another, quietly and secretly enjoying the warmth and company of each other’s presence.

You subconsciously stared at your companion. You couldn’t help but notice the way the wanderer winced imperceptibly as the weight of his body pressed against an apparently sore muscle. You saw the way he stood up and straightened his back, only to wince once again as he sat back down. It was clear to you that he was in pain, and it was clear that this was something he was used to, but you still frowned.

“Are you hurt?” you carefully asked, slightly tilting your head to the side.

The wanderer shook his head, not even looking at you. “It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

You sighed. We’ve been traveling companions for a while now, and he still isn’t opening up. Sure, he should take his time, but he has no reason to not trust me after what we’ve done to protect each other…

“You know,” you started in a sweet voice, staring at the dancing flames, “it’s pretty normal to get hurt, or even just have a sore back, when you do nothing but wander around and fight monsters all day. Just let me help you.”

He shook his head again, but his voice had softened. “I don’t… need healing.”

You decided not to ask if that was just another way to say no or he actually didn’t need any healing as a puppet.

“But you’re in pain”, you insisted. “You won’t let me heal you, so at least let me cook you some food, give you a massage or something.”

“A massage?” At the wanderer’s seemingly disgusted frown, you only nodded. “But why?”

“It’ll help your muscles relax”, you responded with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. Though he was doing his best to appear indifferent, he was curious about what you would do. He stared at your hands for a couple seconds, wondering if it would have been that bad to have those soft fingers touching his skin.

“Fine then. Do your worst.”

Oh, he just had to make it into a challenge, didn’t he?

You smiled a bit widely this time. You felt like this could help them get closer. You already considered him an ally, but you wanted him to acknowledge that; to see for himself what it meant to have a companion to place his trust in.

He took off his kimono and pulled down the top part of his bodysuit. His pale rosy skin looked soft, and as perfect as a doll’s. Looking a bit more carefully, you couldn’t help but notice five fading rounded scars on the center of his back. The one in the middle was bigger than the others, and those were undoubtedly the marks his puppet strings had left.

“So? Are you gonna do something, or—”

He freezed upon feeling your warm hand trace up his spine.

“Mnnh…”

“Good?”

He bit his lip. “Shut it.”

“You’re tense. Are you always like this, or…” You stopped yourself, your attention being caught by something else. A small symbol on the highest part of his back. It didn’t look like a scar, it was more like a birthmark. You let your curiosity get the better of you and slid your thumb over the mark, softly. “What’s this?” You asked simultaneously.

Tingly waves of electricity shot through his body, running straight to his crotch, and the wanderer couldn’t prevent a soft moan of sheer pleasure from escaping his slightly parted lips.

You stopped your thumb immediately. “Did I hurt you?” You asked with urgency.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m not that fragile.”

Encouraged, you pressed a bit harder on the spot. Your thumb drew slow circles along the mark, until…

“Ahn… please…”

You made a surprised sound, your eyes widening.

The red-faced wanderer hastened to clarify, “That… slipped out.”

But you had already stopped. “Please what, though? Are you sure this isn’t an uncomfortable place for you to—”

“Shut up, it wasn’t a please stop.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was nothing.”

You only let out a chuckle. You really wanted to be friends (or maybe even more) with him, but right now you couldn’t resist teasing him. “Maybe you find this arousing,” you suggested with a shrug. “This one is probably a sweet spot of yours, am I right?” The wanderer parted his lips to speak, but your thumb found itself on the birthmark again and he had to close them shut to suppress the noise he felt bubbling up his throat. “It’s really pretty, though. It’s a mitsudomoe, right? Very pretty…”

The wanderer could barely focus on your praise, completely absorbed by the feeling of you tracing circles around such a sensitive part of his body.

Until you realized this could probably not help his sore back. Much to the wanderer’s disappointment, you went back to massaging his back, and yes— that helped a lot, but it just didn’t feel as good.

It was pretty relaxing, though. Your touch was delicate, careful. It was completely new to him.

Maybe being in your company wasn’t that bad.

: : : :

He looked so… serene in his sleep. He looked like nothing in the world could ever disturb his slumber. Why wasn’t he always like this? You could only wonder why he didn’t sleep more often, since it made him so calm and peaceful. Maybe if he had slept like this every night he wouldn’t have been so short tempered.

Most of his clothes were lying forgotten in an angle of their tent, neatly folded.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, his tiny, immobile sleeping figure, his pink synthetical lips that were just barely pressing against each other, his relaxed brows, his smooth and perfect skin… yes, nothing could ever disturb his slumber…

“Mmgh… hah…” The puppet’s eyebrows started to furrow, and his body began to tremble ever so slightly. You let out a sigh. Oh, you should have expected him to have nightmares. The wanderer was muttering something incomprehensible, so you got a bit closer, trying to make out what he was saying.

“D-don’t…”

Oh, here it comes. What will it be?

You touched his shoulder, trying to wake him from his presumed nightmare.

Will it be… “don’t hurt me”? “Don’t betray me”? “Don’t abandon me”? “Don’t—”

“Don’t stop…”

Your eyes widened. If only you looked down a bit lower, a quick glance at the bottom of his tight bodysuit would have been enough to tell just how soaked wet he was.

In fact, at some point, during your attempts at waking him up, you somehow noticed the dark spot of wetness between his legs.

A subtle smirk creeped onto your face.

He looked so irresistible, and you couldn’t stop staring. You even forgot you were trying to wake him up.

The wanderer’s squirming and tossing around only increased in frequency, finally awaking him.

He blinked once. Twice.

“Were you having a dream?” You enquired innocently.

“Not your business…” he replied, looking away so that you couldn’t see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “How could you tell…?” He quickly added as soon as he realized he could have said or done something in his sleep.

“Call it intuition or whatever.” You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell if someone’s dreaming if they keep making noise. Was it a bad dream? Or was it about what we discussed earlier?”

He shuddered, rolling onto his side. “Not. Your. Business.”

“I’m assuming it was?” You challenged.

“I said it’s not your business.” The wanderer responded.

“How about you tell me—” He cut you off.

“How about you go to sleep and leave me alone?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his defensive aggressivity. “Fine, fine. Goodnight Kuni.”

He didn’t say anything in response.

You ignored him back and wrapped a warm blanket around yourself, facing the other way. Not even a minute had passed when the wanderer softly called out to you.

“What is it?”

“Can we… share that?” He was pointing at the blanket.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re cold.”

“Shut up.”

You were right, actually. You always were. He was feeling as hot as he didn’t recall ever feeling, but for some reason he wanted you to be close to him, and sharing a blanket was the only way he considered. There was no way he would explicitly ask you to come closer.

You sat up, scooted closer and pulled the blanket onto him. “Sleep well.” No response again.

You lied back down, on your side, facing away from him.

The wanderer was glad you couldn’t see him squeezing his legs together and rubbing his thighs against each other, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable, hot wetness that was only growing and growing between his folds. As it grew, he noticed he was starting to breathe, loudly— he just couldn’t help it. This feeling was too much, he wanted it gone. He didn’t even need to breathe, why did it feel so necessary yet so difficult right now?

He pressed his forehead against the nape of your neck, making you chuckle quietly. Feeling your warmth against himself was somehow relieving, but it also made his body shake with desire and want.

He muffled a groan of discomfort by covering his mouth with his hand.

“Fuck… [Name]—”

“I’m still awake, you know. Do you need something?” You sleepily muttered.

“Ugh…”

“Won’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” You insisted softly. “I can help you.”

The wanderer wanted it. So badly— but he still had his pride. He shook his head, even though you were facing the other side and couldn’t see him.

You took his silence as a no, anyway. “… Alright. Goodnight again.”

“… ‘Night”, he replied this time, in a small voice. He was determined to let the overwhelming feeling go away on his own…

But a few minutes later, he couldn’t care less. He tapped your shoulder lightly, swallowed his pride and breathed out a whispery “… Help?”

You sat up again, your eyes shining, as if you’d been waiting for that moment. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him and waiting for him to say something more.

To which the wanderer furrowed his brows and muttered something that sounded like “come on”.

“What do you want?” You asked innocently, raising a brow.

“Stop talking and do something already!” He yelled impatiently, forcefully grabbing one of your wrists and directing your hand to his abdomen, not daring to push it lower— maybe hoping you would do that yourself. You smiled, running your fingers up to his chest instead. At your caress, his body relaxed against the thin mattress.

“Lower”, he demanded, impatiently.

But you liked his chest too much to just leave it alone already. You put both of your hands to use; while one massaged his chest through his bodysuit, the other traced its way to his lower stomach, then even lower, then some more, until it was resting on his clothed sex.

As soon as he felt your touch, the wanderer inhaled sharply, his body tensing up. The hand that was caressing his upper body found a nipple and focused its attention on it, earning delicious moans from him and helping him loosen up some more. His eyes were glued to her as soon as she started moving her hand. You really were handling him with care. The combination of your touch and the embarrassment of the situation, of how you looked so serious and focused on him, was really getting to him.

The more you rubbed his clit through the fabric, the more he felt the urge to strip off and expose himself for you. He struggled to remove his bodysuit, and you lent him a hand as soon as you noticed. Once free of his clothing, he laid back down, putting himself on display. You licked your lips.

He was completely flushed red from his face to his chest, his weakened arms resting above his head, his hardened nipples demanding more attention, his parting legs tempting you, his blue eyes silently begging you to touch him. So you did, and he whimpered imperceptibly when your hand made direct contact with his clit for the first time. Not feeling any friction, but only a somehow unsatisfying contact, he moved his hips closer to you, but much to his displeasure you withdrew your finger. He let out a soft cry. He was feeling so good, why did it have to stop already?

“Are you playing with me?” He whined, trying to sound intimidating. “If you’re only doing this to annoy me, might as well…”

He trailed off, observing you. You were giving your thumb a few licks, carefully wetting it before placing it on his engorged clit and moving in slow circles, as two fingers of your other hand held up the hood. To which the wanderer could only shut his eyes, throw his head back and let out a long “oohh…”, pleasantly surprised at just how good it felt.

He wasn’t used to this.

Your pointer finger slid down, passed his urethra and pressed against the slit. Your thumb was still working his clit, circling it at a steady pace. Feeling that you weren’t speeding up, the wanderer complained in a breathy voice. “That’s… too slow.”

You gradually picked up the pace, lubing your finger with his juices to help it slide inside his hole. You looked at him. His eyes were tightly shut and his closed fists were grasping the blanket they were sharing earlier. You were being careful with your movements, afraid to hurt him. “Hey, Kuni. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”, you asked, slightly tilting your head to the side.

“Not of… my own will”, he responded through clenched teeth.

Oh.

That wasn’t completely unexpected.

You removed your clean hand from his body to caress his cheeks.

“I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s… nothing, really.” He gave a nod of his head to signal you to keep going from where you had stopped.

You experimentally moved your finger, but he had gotten tighter. Thinking back about what happened had apparently made him tense up again. “I, uh… I don’t want to hurt you”, you stated. He looked away. He knew it would hurt if you pushed inside him right now.

Sensing his anxiety, you straddled him and softly placed a kiss on his cheek. Your right hand lightly grazed the sensitive birthmark on his higher back, as you continued leaving kisses on his face. The wanderer made a little smile, and let out soft noises and hums of pleasure, while you showered him with affection by pecking his forehead, cheeks, and even the tip of his nose.

“My— my lips too.”

“Alright.”

Complying with his request, you kissed him on the lips. His lips parted, letting her tongue in as soon as he felt it prodding his mouth. You adjusted your position so that your knee was now in between his legs, and he started to roll his hips against it immediately, moaning into your mouth. The friction felt so good on his clit, and now he just wanted more, more, more.

When your lips parted, you kissed his neck, softly nibbling and sucking on it, relishing in the way he tilted his head back to expose his body even further, curving himself to get you to do more, every single cell of him screaming “take me, and do whatever you want to me”. And desiring nothing more than that.

You cupped his chest with both hands and gently fondled his porcelain skin. The wanderer was breathing heavily, completely lost in the feeling of the soft skin of his neck being marked by your mouth and his sensitive nipples being stimulated this delicately. His folds started to lubricate again as he rubbed himself against your leg, hips bucking furiously. His hands feebly grasped your silky hair, trying to push you further onto his body. He guided you where he wanted your attention, and you found yourself licking and suckling on a nipple. His other breast, small enough to fit in your palm, savored your caresses. He could feel something hot churn into his lower stomach. The feeling was slowly taking over his entire body, it was like a drug, and now he needed more.

“[Name]… it feels good, ahh…”

You smiled against his skin. You were making progress.

“[Name]. I think I’m ready.”

“Mhm?”

“Yes. You… won’t need to go easy on me.”

“Well, I’m still going to make this as comfortable as I can.”

He smiled imperceptibly, nothing but pure love in his eyes. He gave a slight nod of his head to encourage you. “Come inside… [Name].”

Your finger found itself back where it was earlier, circling the hole before slowly sliding in. Your body was moving on its own, as if it was on autopilot.

“N-ngh…”

You gradually pushed your finger deeper, observing his face to make sure it wasn��t too overwhelming for him. “Is this okay?”

The wanderer nodded frantically. This felt way better than he had imagined. “More… more…” he managed to squeeze out, his voice sounding broken and hoarse. “Go deeper…” He was sweating, so much so that his skin looked a bit shiny from the moisture.

“You’ve got to call me ma’am for that”, you said.

“In your dreams. I’m not calling you that,” he mumbled.

You chuckled. “I wasn’t serious, dummy.” And as proof, your finger went deeper. The wanderer instantly forgot you had been teasing him.

“Oohh… nnh… just like that…”

Encouraged, you kept rubbing his inner walls with care, searching for that one spot that would have your Kuni crying out in pleasure.

The wanderer was lost in a trance-like state. His ocean eyes were unfocused and teary, and a bit of drool could be spotted at the corner of his mouth.

When your skilled lips made contact with his clit, pressing a loving kiss on it, Kuni’s eyes went wide and he whimpered slightly in surprise. He lost his composure once again when you began to give it the softest kitten licks, sloppily throwing his leg over your shoulder, making it easier to buck his pussy right into your mouth as you licked at his hardened clit.

“Haah… ma’am, feels so good…”

You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks. And your crotch.

You was feeling like his pleasure was the only purpose of your life. You lapped up all the delicious juices that came out of him, your gentle licks turning into messy and frantic sucks.

And the wanderer, oh, he was long gone. Weakly holding your free hand, occasionally squeezing it when he felt like the pleasure was too much for his body to handle, he’d never felt as good as he was feeling now. His head thrown back in heavenly bliss, resting on the blanket he had used to lie next to you and get this in exchange— oh, it’d been so worth it, he kept thinking. He would have done it again and again if it meant feeling the same pleasure he was feeling now.

You were so gentle with him. Did he even deserve your gentleness?

“Kuni? Are you feeling alright?”

Warm juices trickled down your chin as you lifted your head from his crotch to make sure he was okay. Placing a hand on the underside of his thigh, you waited for his nod to start eating him out again.

“I’m feeling... a little more than alright.”

[angelsknifeprty]

streamer!ellie hcs ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: this is more focused on ellie and less on ellie x reader but i am for sure gonna follow this up with something else more focused on the both of you >:3

warnings | mentions of weed, the smallest hint towards struggling with eating if you squint

word count: 698

do not buy tlou | ways to help palestine | operation olive branch | keep eyes on sudan | haiti’s history | learn about congo

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ started off posting unlisted videos of her playing games with the stupidest, shittiest editing ever for you and her friends to watch and later decided to give streaming a try

‎ ‧₊˚౨ৎ starts off her twitch channel as a faceless streamer but does a face reveal when she hits a big milestone

‧₊˚౨ৎ has the creeper mini fridge for sure!!

‧₊˚౨ৎ has a ginger cat named garfield that she exclusively calls garfunkel on stream because her viewers made fun of her for garfield being too unoriginal

“guys, what do you mean it’s unoriginal, look at him. that’s literally garfield, the real deal. you’re all haters.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ plays a bunch of different games: minecraft obviously, fortnite, roblox (and argues with kids on there, you can’t tell me any different). also loves fnaf, elder scrolls and resident evil

‧₊˚౨ৎ more on her liking resident evil, i think she’s not super wimpy when it comes to games like that but she HATES the regenerators from the re4 remake (i’m totally not projecting…)

“i am NOT a wimp, but look at their freaky fucking arms!! and they have gross little butts too, that was not a necessary choice for the character design.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ she does find it funny when she kills them and they jiggle as they fall on the ground though

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ i’m throwing it in here that she smokes weed because i simply cannot help myself teehee :P

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she does more chill streams of her eating n stuff as a way of comforting her viewers so they can eat along with her )):

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ and in turn chat always spams her with comments to drink water because that girl survives purely on energy drinks to combat her sleepy girl syndrome

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ abuses the soundboard so heavily, loves using a sound effect of an audience clapping and cheering when she tells the most painfully unfunny joke

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she is ABSOLUTELY a jerma985 fan

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves putting her fans on blast and reacting to edits of her on stream and finds it so funny (especially the ones that have the reverb fart noise just randomly slapped in there, she thinks it’s peak humour)

“you guys think i don’t see this stuff? i have eyes everywhere. y’know what though, you guys are actually really talented.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ wears stupid t-shirts that say stuff like “i paused my game to be here” (omg i just found one that says “gamers make better lovers, they know all the right buttons” she would absolutely wear that)

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she wears her silly t-shirts with pride and has the audacity to ask chat to rate how hard her fit goes

therealher0brine: BOOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅 0/10

elliebellie69: i beg that you don’t leave the house in that /lh  (╥﹏╥)

gnarpgnarp500: never beating the loser lesbian allegations i fear…

“guys you’re just not seeing the vision, sorry that you’re not this cool.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ oh my gosh she is OBSESSED with the little ikea alien, she has multiple of them in her room. she keeps one on her desk and when she sometimes doesn’t know what to say she’ll just hold it up super close to the camera and make incoherent high pitched babbling sounds

smelliams420: omg cancelled you can’t say that dude…

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ gets her viewers to send in clips and she’ll do high try not to laugh streams and fails miserably because she has the dumbest sense of humour ever. she’ll blame it entirely on the herb though as if her reaction wouldn’t be near enough the same when she’s sober

‧₊˚౨ৎ will occasionally play guitar on stream and she’ll sing too if you catch her in the right mood. she’s a bit awkward about it so it doesn’t happen often cuz she hates messing up and always makes a way bigger deal about it than necessary

“fuck- no wait, i was just messing with you. that fuck up was on purpose, shut up,” and her cheeks are flushed bright red as she tries to brush it off and compose herself before trying again

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves to get sidetracked and info dumps about stuff she is far too knowledgeable on

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ in conclusion, loser ellie supremacy

a/n: raghhh i love streamer els with my whole heart !!! i’m gonna eat her (˶˃⤙˂˶) anyways i hope you enjoyed, k bye mwah! >3< ♡

[ayasuki]

6th Bakugou x Reader FANFIC RECS

some are short but they're good hehe (most of these are suggestive :P)

> • 𝑹𝒆𝒄 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕

" Dream Eater " by justatypicaltrash

dream eater!bakugou x reader

warning: slight angst

bakugo is an eternal living dream eater.

" I Like You, Okay?! " by kikyo-bnha-imagines

bakugou x fem!reader

summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.

" Workshopped Romance " by itsmm4hiii

pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader

summary: working for a hero costume designer has its perks like; meeting heroes, playing with cool technologies, getting you're name out- y/n didn't  really expect her own boss will try and hook her up with a customer. 

" Blood Moonlit, Must be Counterfeit " by irisintheafterglow

pro-hero!bakugou x reader

warning: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes.

WARNING | beneath the cut are slightly suggestive to full on smut fics

" no title " by moominsuki

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: ch. 359-362 spoilers kinda. a little suggestive but fluff all around

summary: katsuki hates being off the job. but what he hates more is being treated like glass, especially by you.

" as the years go by " by quitesins

pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader

warning: suggestive, slight nsfw, friends to lovers, unrequited love ig? virgin!reader, drabble

summary: being friends with bakugou since UA, watching each other change as the years go by, but still having room to learn more, so much more.

" no title " by izvmimi

warning: palace drama au, multiple wives, fem!reader, brief explicit sex.

" One More Time " by yanderenightmare

warning: derogatory dirty talk, spanking, angsty but with a fluffy ending

" no title " by dreamland03

bakugou x reader

warning: mention of sex like once, drinking, mention of trauma, bad self image

" Come Sit " by saturnorbits

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: cock-warming

summary: after a long day, all you need is bakugo.

" Feral " by smiley-babe

wolfhybrid!bakugou x fem!reader

warnings: aged up characters, lowkey monster fucking (hybrid bakugo has wolf ears, a tail, and fangs), knotting, HUGE breeding kink, no specific dynamics, biting, small blood kink (if you squint), marking/ bonding, heat/ rut behavior, panty sniffing, kind of rough sex, oral (f receiving), and fingering

summary: taking in a wolf hybrid already didn’t seem like a good idea, but when spring hits… all hell breaks loose.

" Personal Trainer!BKG " by bakubunny

personal trainer!bakugou x plus size!fem!reader

warning: oral sex (m receiving), rough sex.

" On To Better Things " by savnofilter

prohero!dilf!bakugou x fem!reader

warning: angst, strangers to lovers

sfw | toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw | fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

" Swipe Right " by ryukatters

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp

summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

" no title " by katbakubae

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: language, dom!bakugou, possessiveness, jealousy, (mild) stalking, name calling, spanking, rough oral.

summary: sick of your boyfriends lack of time with you because of his busy schedule, you decided to take some time for yourself. unfortunately, letting that happen was never an option for him.

[catsoupki]

別戒，毒友 / come out and haunt me (aki hayakawa x reader)

Summary: everyone has their vices to forget a world of devil and man, but remember, when you quit, you quit forever.

Warnings: canon-typical violence (mentioned), smoking cuz duh it’s aki, angst !! they’re hinted to have somewhat of a relationship that never really flourished, so i guess treat them as fwb that could’ve been but never was :) have this while i fail my math midterms <3

wc: 820

It takes him a little over five seconds before he actually moves. Sitting up, stretching out his legs, heaving a breath. With the cigarette box still in hand, he leaves the balcony with what he’s got left in him and goes to greet whoever is ringing the doorbell.

“Heyo,” is what greets him when he opens the gate, laden— “missed me?” You invite yourself into his home, loafers toed off at the Genkan.

“Got any cigarettes?” He says while he turns around, dipping down to rummage through the drawers, and then the kotatsu, hoping he’d come across some more saviours.

“Say yes first.” Movement ceases, you’ve done it, you’re made it awkward. Look down, sigh, look back up, Aki is meeting you in the eye.

“Yes.”

One second passes and you reach into your pocket to snake a new packet into his hand— the flavour he likes, bought from the kombini he frequents— unfamiliarly and with a certain hesitance that makes you slow down before placing it on his open palm, slithering back onto the balcony.

An October night, the wind is crackling outside, his cigarette wavering in the chill, “Hayakawa-sensei, aren’t you cold?”

“No,” his pyjamas riffle violently where he stands next to the opened sliding glass door, “you’re not gonna come out?”

“I’m not so fond of the cold, sir,” Stepping across the boundary, your hair whips in your face anyway, squinting– “give me one too.”

“Since when did you start seriously smoking?” He asks, with hair in his eyes, he looks at you expectantly. You close your eyes.

“Since last time,” you smile at him, in the direction where you think he’s at, you don’t know that his eyes are flitting across your lips, your hair, he looks at you again. You.

“You should quit.” You open your eyes again.

“Mm.”

You were introduced to Aki two months ago, as was your habit of smoking. Makima had found you lying behind some alleyway bar, maimed. When Aki arrived at the scene, he could not differentiate between the way your blood spilled and the cracks of concrete beneath your corpse.

The culprit was killed by Denji afterwards, and you were hauled to the hospital soon. The day that you wake up, Makima greeted you, a simple “Hi”, before she asked the million-dollar question: are you willing to join my squad?

You wanted to say no, and perhaps she knew that, but you had no family left, not even the Shiba. Eyes glossy, hazy, maybe, you didn’t answer her. When she came back a day later with flowers in her hold, you said yes while looking at the floor.

You believe that you have little say in what truly happens around you, and the things that happen to you. Despite Makima always asking for your opinions on matters that concern you, you think that just like how you had said yes to her initial request by looking at the floor, the requests that leave Makima’s lips are laced with aphrodisiac, or perhaps it’s poison, you never find yourself saying no.

“Would you accompany Aki on this mission? I believe it’ll be a good learning opportunity for you.” Yes, because yes.

“Will you consider making a contract with this devil? It’ll be a good matchup when you go on missions with Denji and Aki.” Sure, why not.

It was August when your lips were first tainted by something. It was supposed to be smouldering these days, but that time, you find yourself travelling to Hokkaido with Aki.

He was familiar with the place, you could tell. Unlike the other times, he didn’t waste time fiddling with paper maps or asking the locals. With snow crunching under his footfalls, he walked knowing where his shoes would land next; forward.

The air had been extra cold when Aki gave you your first cigarette. Musk fills your lungs before you heave and cough all that you inhaled. Aki laughs at you.

You should quit. Yes— quit smoking, quit saying yes, quit abusing devils, quit looking at the ground when Makima talks to you. You should quit before you die.

“I’ll quit when you do.” Stubbornness is all that you know, Aki knows. He sighs instead.

“Why’re you here?”

Aki is polite. He has a habit of looking at people with proper etiquette in conversation, something that you lack. The dimming skyline, nebulous clouds. “I’m leaving tomorrow! I finally got my solo mission after two months, Nara. I’m eating so much food there.”

Maybe it’s the wind, or maybe it’s you, perhaps it’s him, but you don’t say much. He doesn’t say much either. It’s the wind whipping your hair— yeah.

He glances at you, with smoke filling his lungs, drowning in you, he says, “Be careful.”

You leave soon after, forgetting that you had a reunion with a few friends. You leave behind the cigarettes.

You quit. Aki never got to return them.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa hahahah a two ppl tag list is comical

[bunji-enthusiast]

hiii lovely!! i was wondering if you could do lancelot x cupid!reader headcanons, which the reader is like one of the knights (like the Knight of Hatred/Love or smth like that, idk im not blessed w creativity😭) and she was like adopted by Meliodas and Elizabeth as an infant, so she grew up w Tristan. her cupid-ness was hidden cuz plot ykyk so yeahhhhh but revealed later

this is my first ever request as you can clearly tell😭 but i would be so grateful if you could do this!! no rush, no pressure, just take careee💕

Desiderium

Longing or missing something or someone.

No trouble at all! sorry for the wait my dear ^^ This is a very good request, you gave me a lot to work with so thank you <3

Content || specific details used to describe your cupidness, ooc lance?, generally fluffy with hints of angst (if you squint).

It was easy to know from a young age that you were in-fact the adoptive one out of the royal family of Liones, compared to your bother Tristan you were someone completely different--infallible even. That being someone you were not was easy, for the most part perhaps. In a way, you were something out of this world.

But it certainly went without saying, you were loved all the same. Tristan was truly like a brother to you, as you truly were a sibling to Tristan. Your mother and father, though not biological, treated you the same as Tristan. You all in all genuinely had a good childhood, and grew up to be quite strong. Though you were particularly envious of Tristan for his abilities, as they were something easy and simple to understand. You didn't have the same easiness, having to learn and build it quite literally from the ground up.

Then something even more happened, the knights of prophecy had been revealed. You were apart of the knights, the phrase used to identify your appearance and being?

A being with heart-like pupils, and you were exactly the one that was described. You knew right away that Tristan was a knight of prophecy, but you? what the hell could you do? you barely had a hold on your powers enough as it is. Plus, admittedly, you needed serious help with gaining control of your powers. But you had no idea how to do that without revealing some very personal aspects to you alone.

Though you grew up with Tristan, that meant you had known about Lancelot as well, as the two were always a bundling pair of boys whom always seemed to get into fights or banter. So you had decided to enlist Lancelot's help for training, as he seemed to know very well what he was doing. Far better then you alone actually.

Clash! 

“Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help.” Lancelot grinned, flipping his grip on the hilt of the training sword. His teasing nature was incessantly repugnant at times, but you didn’t wear off, the spite only fueling you further. 

“Oh shut up,” You huffed, licking your chapped lips as you switched your stance. The sweat on your palms was making it harder for you to gain a proper grip on your sword, it was becoming increasingly annoying for how much you needed to keep up with the blonde boy standing in front of you. “The only reason I asked was so I could get better quicker.”

Clash! Clang!

You jumped back after your sword had made contact with his, taking the time to wipe the sweat from your forehead. Lancelot raised a brow, thinking back to your earlier comment; “Why though? You are one of the knights of prophecy like I am.”

“Why?” You repeated, mounting on the increasing strength of your speed to get in close, causing Lancelot to be caught off guard as he had dodged your attack nearly by a hair to deflect your sword off course with his own. He was wide-eyed for a brief moment, taking the time to re-adjust himself. 

The sword you held in your hand just moments ago fell right onto the ground, making you wince as you clutched your wrist. Lancelot was quick to hold out his hands in-case you had collapsed from exhaustion, but it had seemed he had no reason to do so. So he was quick to retract them as he had waited for you. 

“Ugh, sorry.” You barely let out, crouching on the ground and letting out a groan as you held your hand. Lancelot shook his head, getting closer to you as he checked over your body for any physical previous injuries–and otherwise checking your thoughts–and silently breathed a breath of relief that it didn’t seem to be completely serious. 

“I swear you're a dunce just like your brother sometimes.” Lancelot comments, shaking his head  as a brief-second of a deadpan expression washes over his features. 

You let out a low groan of protest, despite the insult–you grew up with Tristan in the first place, so that meant alot more similarities than you realized. Even if they weren’t physical similarities, “So what?”

“So, don’t push yourself.” He replies simply, “We all have to push past our limits, but that also means knowing when to stop when reaching your limits.” Lancelot said, nodding his head, though transitory. 

As much as he was an annoyance to you sometimes, admittedly you knew he was right as well. You had simply hated when he was right, you sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” You grinned in chagrin, looking up, you noticed Lancelot held out a hand to help you get up. Reluctantly, you took his help and staggered to your feet. You winced for a moment, causing Lancelot to help steady you. 

“Take it easy.” Lancelot said, breaking the transience for a moment. You nodded in understanding, taking a moment to get a better standing on your own two feet. When you appeared to be looking better to stand on your own, Lancelot slowly let go of you, cautious to ensure you didn’t suddenly fall to the ground again. 

“Can we go again?” You asked, making Lancelot shoot you an incredulous glare. After a few seconds, he sighed and closed his eyes, tearing away his attention from you. 

“Take a break at least, then we’ll go.” He said, red piercing eyes striking your eyes for a moment. You nodded in agreement, going to a nearby stone platform available in the training arena. 

I need to get so much better at this! You thought earnestly to yourself.

Though ever since training with him, you almost swore that you could see an expression of worry in Lancelot's features. Or were you hallucinating? you were unsure, but you decided not to mull over it, otherwise it would've given you a headache.

You had otherwise had truly gotten a better handle on the way your abilities worked, though shapely reminiscent of a Cupid's bow like from some legend's across the land had made vague appearances in some of your techniques. You really didn't want to out yourself this way, so you reeled in the use of some of your abilities and hoped that you weren't going to be noticed.

Being a knight of prophecy had thrusted you into the spotlight far more than you warranted it to be, but upon further study you had realized that you were the knight of Ambivalence. A thin line wrought in the depths of humanity, a truly chaotic means of a trait fundamental to the behaviors of every and all living beings.

Oh, how ironic. You really hated that so much.

This had pointed out truly a vague future that you were panicky about, unsure of truly. Somewhat however, you had shared the same sentiments with Percival, a fellow knight of prophecy. You really hated that your destiny was decided for you, that you would one day be one of the knights to wreak havoc about the earth and destroy the world?

Hell no.

Even if you couldn't steer away from the path you were forced to set out on, you could simply enforce more of your own goodness before the dark eventually encroaches the near end of the horizon.

And one could only hope that you could do enough to help the end result.

"Thank you, I am indebted!" The woman said, shaking from the previous events of the attacks. You only shook your head with a forlorn smile, merely shaking your hands in return as her hands had held your own. 

The reason for the worry and near-shaking however, was something you wished for no one to ever experience. 

You had been assigned to an outpost, a region nestled between the borders of Edinburgh and Liones. On the orders of your fa–the king, you had been keeping a close eye on things due to reports of massive wildebeests and even mountain wolves who’s aggression seemed to be transformed to a maximum. Though you never had really expected wildebeests to be aggressive, mountain wolves sure, but wildebeests? They were normally peaceful animals. 

Upon further search and even a few more days, you began to realize that it was the work of someone who seemed to have very malicious intentions. But you had narrowed it down many times, you know it wasn’t anyone from Edinburgh despite the problems that had befallen your family a few years back, it wasn’t anyone else bordering Liones. So who could’ve gone so far to commit such horrible acts?

That was something you have been trying to figure out, but it was for now that you were simply helping out traveling merchants and families trying to get from one place to next. 

After helping the woman, and sending her on her way, you trudge back toward the outpost since you couldn’t sense anything else. Making you sigh in exhaustion at how much you had been constantly working yourself to the bone, “I wonder how’s Tristan doing?” You muttered to yourself. 

You paused for a moment, waiting as if anyone was going to appear right after that sentence. But there wasn’t anyone, allowing you to sigh in relief as you opened the door to the backside of the outpost tower. 

Though you noticed there was a bird flapping right outside the tower window the moment you had clambered back up to your room, though temporary in the time you’ve been staying here. You wondered why there was one, but you noticed soon enough when you had opened the window and allowed the bird in. 

There was a letter, wrapped in a red-silk lining pressed with the insignia of Liones. Most likely it was either your mother that sent it, or your father. 

You took the letter gently from its legs, murmuring a soft thanks as the bird flaps back the way from whence it came. You trudged over to your desk, which was messy by royal standards, considering the amount of paper strewn across the wooden surface. You sighed, sitting down in the chair and swiping the papers to make room for the letter. 

As you had unfurled the paper from the confines of the red-silk lining, surprise slowly began to make its way into your features. 

The more you looked, the more you realized the writing belonged to Lancelot. 

“Hey [Name],

I’m pretty sure you're surprised and I wish I could see the look on your face, but I asked Tristan to send it from Liones.

I would’ve sent a much quicker means of communication but I would’ve scared you, so this was easier to do. 

Anyway, I hope you're doing alright. Must be pretty lonely without company right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “I can do just fine, especially without you dumbass.” You muttered to yourself, a grin slowly crawling on your face without your realization as you continued reading his letter. 

“I've done a lot of stuff lately because of the whole knights of apocalypse thing, but it’s honestly pretty boring without you here.

But you know you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up about being a knight of prophecy right? 

I know it kinda sucks, but you learn to live with it. 

At least I did, but you don’t have to hate yourself over it. I really hate it when you do.

See you, 

                                      — Lancelot.”

You blinked dumbly in stout surprise, did he actually know about all that? Supposedly, you didn’t necessarily hate being a Holy Knight. But it was being part of something that would evidently result in you somehow destroying a better part of a world, that was something you absolutely wanted no part of. 

Fighting and protecting was something normal to you, as for every person who took up arms with their swords. Destroying was something entirely different, and there wasn’t a single bone in your body that you could muster to actually commit such an act. 

Maybe, maybe not.

Trying to reign in and control the festering cesspit of emotions and deal with what was required of you at the same time was beginning to bring in some sort of difficulty, and you just didn't want to know why. Emotions wrought you a difficulty you did not want to face, especially considering your line of work as a knight of prophecy. You sincerely hated it.

Bearing the title was something you never wanted to do in the first place anyhow, so just how were you expected to keep up with; Tristan, Lancelot, Percival, and Gawain. The four of them were far better and more ahead of you in terms of strength, and agility, especially power too.

On top of it all, you had also bore the qualities of a cupid. Which you had many times over had to shrug off the thought whenever someone had brought it up aloud, you never really liked them anyway. But it made you question who your biological parents really were.

Sometimes, you really were envious of the relationships between others that you have seen; romantic or platonic. You really had yearned for something like that, yet you had been left at a stand-still because of the times you had refused to build a bond with Tristan or either of your adoptive parents.

"This is so stupid." You groaned lowly, Tristan lightly patted your back with a weak yet reassuring grin. He really was trying his best to help you ease into meeting with the king, but it was his father, not really yours. Your heart wrenched deeply at the thought, you knew fully what you thought about it, but you hadn’t thought about anything in your adoptive father’s perspective.

“It’ll be fine!” He said, leading you along the castle hallways. 

“You sure? Cause the last thing I said to dad was pretty…” You trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh. “Nasty.”

He shrugged, “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think, Dad’s always been pretty easy going. Even after arguments.” Tristan mentioned, stepping ahead for a moment. You could only nod your head with a relenting shrug. 

The memory still stung pretty harshly in mind. 

“Are you kidding me?” You shouted, slamming your hand on the war-room table. Your brow was raised in disbelief as you casted an incredulous glare at the short-blonde king that was your adoptive father, as always, he remained unmoving. You groaned, your eyes shutting for a moment before you casted another glare once again. 

You threw up your hands, “There’s no way I can figure this out, can’t you send someone else to do it?” You asked, your shapely heart eyes shining in a pleading manner. Meliodas only shook his head, chuckling warmly. 

“The guards are pretty spread out thin, and most of the holy knights are on recon missions right now.” He informed you, tapping his pointer finger accordingly to each location mentioned on the map. “Your mission, should you find out anything useful could garner great help to us.” He said, his expression displayed that of seriousness. He seriously wasn’t kidding. 

“Ugh, fine. Sometimes I really hate you.”

And with that echoing, you simply left the room without lingering to set out for your mission to reach the outpost.

You don't know why, why you did what you did or said. Maybe it was an emotional insecurity, maybe a mood swing. But the last thing you wanted to do was face your adoptive father, the king. You don't know if it sounded particularly bad, but your view of family had shifted quite a lot.

Even while growing up, you've heard whispers, things that made your beaming expression falter even just for a brief moment. Things turned your view around, and no matter how much you simply didn't

The meeting went well, which was one of the biggest relief of air of air for you. But you couldn't get out of your mind the way your adoptive father had looked at you, or Tristan for the matter. It had seemed everyone was tense and high on guard, especially Lady Thetis, whom you are very good friends with outside the knights of apocalypse.

Briefly, you scanned the room, and for an unseeing moment-your eyes locked with his.

Your brows furrowed, yet his never tore away for a moment. The things soon-to-be said in this very room was something you were not excited to hear about in the first place.

'Can we really do this?' you thought to yourself, letting out a sigh. tearing your eyes away from strikingly red ones.

'It's gonna be a lot easier than you realize, I promise you.'

[blondeewhorre]

Just For You

Sanji's story about being in love with you

(Here is Sanji’s version! Lol…Anyways, I also did his story based off a song…cuz I love music. It’s good.👍🏽 Just down below. Still takes place after Whole Cake Island and SPOILERS if you squint enough.)

Your story

The day Sanji fell in love with you was the day his world began to turn once again on it’s axel. Oh yes, he loved you so very much that it would have hurt, if it didn’t bring him such joy. Everything about you just brightened his day, your beaming smile, your soft voice and gentle words, the fact you didn’t beat him black and blue the way Nami did whenever he got a little too carried away with his affection.

So why couldn’t things ever go the way he so desires? Sure, he was a big goofy flirt but sometimes he couldn’t help himself, he just had to let every woman know just how beautiful they are but in his heart…none of them, not a single one, compared to you. You held his heart in the palm of your hands, had him wrapped around not just one finger, but all of them and you were none the wiser of just how much control you held over him.

It was a wonder how you hadn’t notice just how whipped this man is for you, just how oblivious could you get? It was literally written all over his face just how much this man loves you. He would stare at you longer than necessary, not even bothering to look away when you catch him watching—no matter how embarrassed he felt—as you went about your day. He especially loved watching you as you became so immersed while drawing, painting everything that caused you wonder and fascination, you were most beautiful during those times.

His rapt attention to every word that spilled past those pretty lips of yours was another hint to his already obvious affection towards you. He would subconsciously lean over the island, closer to you, as if he couldn’t hear you as went on and on about the food back home, in your home country you missed so dearly. How could you not see it even when he would make that very same dish the very next day? How he would have his eyes on you once more as you thanked him profusely, eyes glittering with emotion as you ate everything off the plate?

Yet, he wanted to forget it all, to erase that smile of yours from his mind, and not remember the way you’d talk to him so sweetly in that sleepy little voice of yours as you kept him company every morning when he began cooking up breakfast for the whole crew. He knew you weren’t a morning person, having been a witness to you waking up at noon everyday before you started joining him in the kitchen.

Little things like these are what made him hope that maybe he had a chance with you, that it wasn’t so hopeless for him to get the woman of his dreams even though he felt that he did not deserve you in any way. It got especially worse after he had to leave with his family, or at least his blood related one. Oh how it hurt, how much agony it brought him when he had to leave everything that made him happy behind…when he had to leave you, his dream behind.

It hurt so much that he placed all his hopes on being able to live a somewhat happy life on Pudding. All of it was crushed…demoralized, almost as if he wasn’t meant to be happy in this life. How he missed you so during those times, when his whole life came crumbling beneath his feet and leaving him feeling so worthless…so utterly worthless. His tears were bitter, his anguish mixing in with the pouring rain as even the rain robbed him of his one time to just cry it all out.

But after everything he did to his friends, his captain, and to you, he knew it was the last thing he could ever have. He would ruin you, ruin your life like he has with others, and how he couldn’t be your love. It only left him being able to hope that you could have the life you deserve, that you can be happy, even if it meant a happy life without him because now…it would not mattered if he disappeared, no one here would notice. You were simply too far away for him now.

The world was just out to get him since from the day he came into it. Every good thing he had in life, he simply wasn’t allowed to keep, his mother, his sister, Pudding for a good moment, his friends…you. You were all he could think about as he wept hat night, listening to Pudding’s harsh words, your comforting words replaying in his mind whenever he was feeling down and the way you caressed his face, his hair whenever he needed it…like now, but you weren’t there. Not even the lighter wanted to offer him momentary solace, it was what lead to his breaking point, that little push to the edge was all he needed.

Which only left him feeling all the more grateful to be back on Thousand Sunny, with his friends and of course, you. He was glad everyone was willing to forgive him (of course, he did receive a good punch from Luffy, payback for disrespecting his captain), but he was especially happy when you were the first to welcome him back with open arms, hugging him so tight, he couldn’t breathe but he felt like he just wasn’t getting enough. He just wanted to forget the pain that the days on Whole cake brought him and never again wish to forget you.

He smiles softly to himself as he watches you from afar, sitting by your lonesome as you watched the horizon of the ocean beyond, picking at the pie he had given you just moments ago. He let out a small and shaky sigh as he set the tray aside after having served Robin and Nami their drinks, now making his way up the stairs leading up to the tangerine trees, where you sat solemnly and lost in thought.

“What’s wrong?” He spoke before he could even think, almost offering you a penny for your thoughts, wanting to know everything going through that mind of yours, to know what has you looking so worried. “Hm…” Is the only response he gets back from you in that moment, his heart sinking when you don’t even bother to look at him. He almost contemplates leaving you alone to your thoughts but before he could, you speak up again.

“Just have a lot on my mind.” His heart began to race, fighting back a smile, as he takes your words as an invitation to stay. He immediately grabs the free chair, the one other chair beside you on the little circular table you were eating on, or picking at your pie on. Once he was fully seated, he leaned in slightly, unable to help the desire of close proximity before speaking again himself.

“I’m all ears, mademoiselle.” He says with a gentle smile that he could only seem to give to you, and only you. He watched you with rapt attention as you silently contemplate, going from picking at your pie to holding your hot cup of coffee in both of your palms and staring into the cup. Why won’t you look at him? He could feel a small sense of panic rise from the pits of his stomach before his heart jumped at the sound of your tender voice.

“I’m glad you’re back.” The familiar warmth he always got whenever he is with you began to spread throughout his chest, that smile he couldn’t seem to control spreading across his face, his gaze softening as he continue staring at you. “I’m glad to be back.” He could see it on your face again, that strange and pained expression you sometimes made around him, it made his heart ache all over again, not understanding why you make such an expression whenever he was around.

He continues to watch you, his gaze going over to where yours is currently, landing on the black leather sketchbook you always seemed to carry with you. Curiosity piqued, mostly because no one had ever seen what exactly you drew in it, he opens his mouth before he could even think. “May I look through it?” He wanted to take the small chance that you just might let him be the first to finally be able to see what special things you hid in those pages

“Oh…um…” His heart was racing in anticipation, gaze going from your tapping fingers to your face, constantly, unable to choose on what to focus on more. “Yes, I guess you can look through it.” You sounded tired, you look tired, exhausted even as you slide the sketchbook over to him, a smile making his way to his face once again. He opens his mouth to thank you but you were already standing and walking away before he could.

His heart shattered, he was pretty use to it by now, though it didn’t make it hurt any less. With a defeated sigh, he reached to run the tips of his fingers over the leather cover, admiring the texture for a bit before finally opening it to it’s first official page. To say he was surprised would be an understatement of the century when he was met with a beautiful but light sketch of himself, leaning over the railing of Going Merry as he mindlessly puffed out wisps of smoke and stared out into the ocean.

His heart throbbed, blood rushing loudly in his ears as he turned to the next page, met with more sketches of him in various situations and doing various things. Such as, close ups of him glaring at certain ingredients, moving about in the kitchen, fighting with Zoro, and several of them also being of him just smiling while doing a variety of different things. The ones that had his heart hammering in his chest being the ones where you were drawing his face, just his face, in intricate details.

Hell, you even even added splashes of color to certain details, such as his eyes, his hair, sometimes the different clothes he wore, but he also noticed how you couldn’t get enough of his hands. These were the simpler ones—though there was nothing simple about them—while the otherw involved him doing things. It was a wonder when you had the time to take him in in such great detail, such as the ones involving him fighting, shopping, even more detailed ones of him cooking, him playing with everyone on the ship, while others made him blush as they involved him sleeping on the island and sitting on a stool, and others of his intimate little interactions with you, like kissing the back of your hand.

He releases another shaky little breath as he finally flips the last page, now staring at the back of it and making his heart drop. There was no mistaking that it still involved him, but it also involved Pudding, the two of whom shared what seemed to be an emotional and intimate moment as they kissed. It was enough to have him question many things as he abruptly stood up with the sketchbook in hand and rushed after you. He catches you just in time as you’re about to enter the kitchen, gently but firmly grabbing your arm.

“Wait.” His voice sounded almost pleading as he tried to coax you into turning around to face him. “Your drawings…” His heart hurt. He didn’t know what to make of it…couldn’t understand what it meant exactly. “They’re all of…me” You respond quickly at his realization. “Um…yes…they’re all you.” He feels like his world is now lighter, his hopes at being able to have what he feels he’ll never deserve, but then he remembers the last page involving him and Pudding.

“And this one…why is…why am I…” You were making that pained expression again as you hand him the empty plate that once held your pie and take the sketchbook from his hands, studying it closely for a while. “Stolen memories.” Was that really all you were going to give him? Especially when you keep making that expression? “I just…I’m trying to understand though, my lady. What does it all exactly mean?” He doesn’t remember this at all, and why on earth would you draw him like this? This is honestly something he didn’t like seeing. It made him feel like you didn’t really like him like he hoped you would.

“It’s my love…” You finally hand the sketchbook back to him, finally looking at him as you do. “I want you to have it.” Oh, the way his heart throbbed painfully once more, leaving him unable to resist wrapping his arms around you so tightly, enough that he knew he was probably hurting you and on any other day, he probably would have stopped and apologized over and over again. He held onto you for dear life because in his sparsed world, you would disappear.

He finally, but with great reluctance, lets go of you and gives you a small and confused smile, unable to no longer hold back just how deeply his affections for you are. He couldn’t help the need to touch you any longer, reaching up to caress your face, to hold your face in his palms as tenderly as he could muster while simultaneously leaning in, his hopes running high as his gaze goes back and forth from your eyes and your lips. “You are my reason for the strength I found to keep going…even when I had hit my lowest.” Don’t cry, don’t shed tears for him, he did not deserve them, and he couldn’t stand the way your lips quivered and your eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But goodness, did he love you. “I love you.” He couldn’t contain it anymore, allowing those three little words to slip past his lips as he held back his own tears once you began to quietly sob. He couldn’t resist anymore, especially with the way you clung to him, grasped at his shirt as he leaned the rest of the way in and pressed his lips to yours. Your salty tears on your lips only add to the already emotional and intimate moment as he engraves all these details in his mind, never wanting to forget this moment. You are now his.

His love.

[www-tanjiros-soft-dom]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[18+] Bertholdt Hoover x GN Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: N/SFW content, sub Bertholdt, dom reader, handjob, drooling, slight choking, reader’s lowkey pervy, pet names, praises, kind of overstim if you squint, y’all suck at studying, unestablished relationship, Bertholdt is into post-hardcore/punk cuz… fuck you, that’s why.

｡𖦹°‧ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

So, Bertholdt. Breathe if you agree.

He’s always wearing some sort of collared shirt — be it a button-up or a polo — paired with a nice pair of slacks. Sometimes, he’ll even throw a nice looking sweater over it, and my, does he look so dapper. Such a handsome man walking around campus, from his perfectly combed hair to his leather dress shoes.

But, he doesn’t always dress up like that. And you found that out after showing up at his dorm for your scheduled weekend study session. When he opened the door, he was not wearing a collared shirt; instead, his torso was clad in a black American Idiot shirt (huh, you didn’t know he was into Greenday), surprisingly baggy for someone his stature, but you had to remind yourself that Bertholdt was just as lanky as he was tall, so finding shirts that fit must be an absolute nightmare for him. Grey sweatpants replaced his usual nice slacks, and holy shit, stop staring at his crotch, (Y/N)!!

Confusion overtook his features (for a second, you were afraid he caught you ogling at how nicely his sweatpants emphasized his package), and he asked if you needed something. Now it was your turn to be confused; did he forget about your study session? It was revealed that, yes, he did forget about your study session, and watching his eyes widen and his ears turn pink was… something else.

“Ah, shi… um… sorry, (Y/N),” he meekly mumbled (wait a minute, did he almost just swear??). “I forgot what day it is…”

You were quick to reassure him that it was okay, and if he was busy with something else, you could totally come back later, or reschedule your session for another day. But he rapidly shook his head and started to reassure you, inviting you in so you could start. This would actually be your first time in his room, so you took the time to admire every inch of it. It was fairly neat, save for the unmade bed, and it seemed as though everything had their place. Button ups ranging from white to navy blue were neatly hung up on clothing hangers. Books were neatly propped up on one side of his desk while notebooks were methodically stacked onto each other on the other. Not too much decoration made it on his walls, but you did take note of the Polaroid picture of him, Reiner, and Annie, along with the Coheed and Cambria poster adjacent to his door (since when did Bertholdt like post-hardcore—?).

“Sorry about the mess. If I didn’t forget, I would’ve cleaned up a bit.”

You wanted to let out a humored scoff; what mess? As far as you could tell, this was the cleanest dorm room you’ve ever seen a college student live in. After telling him that you didn’t mind, the study session commenced, and you couldn’t help but find yourself… distracted. At first, it started rather innocent; just wondering how you never knew Bertholdt’s music tastes, despite knowing each other for quite some time. Then he started saying something to grab your attention, which made you begin to study his face (instead of, you know, studying for your upcoming exam). Huh… did Bertholdt always have such pretty, pale green eyes? You thought they were more of a grey, but now that you took the time to actually look at them, you realized there was a hint of sage in his iris. They really complimented his chestnut hair… that you just now noticed was uncombed, sticking up in ways that just looked so endearing and soft… your hand twitched at the thought of reaching out and stroking it, carding your fingers all the way to the back of his bedhead and—

Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go there.

So, pushing down those thoughts, you diligently returned to your gaze to your notes as you listened to him continue to speak. But you could only focus on his words for so long before you started to focus on his voice, and while his low notes had a roughness to them, his high notes were softer… breathy, even. It made you wonder just how high he could reach while you wrapped your hands around his—

Ayo. Quit it. You’re supposed to be studying, not thinking about your study partner in such a disgustingly gaudy way. Christ, have you no shame, you scolded yourself. Get a grip!

You managed to tune back into what Bertholdt was actually saying, just in time for him to pose a question on whether or not he should make flash cards. It sounded like a good idea, so you suggested the idea of making them on Quizlet to save time and notecards, which he agreed with, and immediately got to work on his laptop. The room fell into a comfortable silence, only the noises of clicking keys filling your ears. And, of course, your eyes had to wander from your notes to his face again, this time focusing on his lips. They were a bit chapped, yet still managed to look soft, and… oh… he just darted his tongue out to wet them. Now they were slightly glistening with his own spit. Great. How were you supposed to not think about hooking your index finger under his chin, smearing his spit by stroking his bottom lip with your thumb, huh?! What, is it wrong to feel the strong urge to press a finger down on the divot where his lip was cracked, watch as his mouth parted for you to stick your finger into the warm cavity—

I’m going to hell, you mentally groaned.

There was one final attempt to return to your studies; honestly, there was! But your attention was diverted by Bertholdt cursing underneath his breath (yes; Bertholdt Hoover. Cursing. Do you even know this man anymore?!), and your eyes just so happened to flick towards his long, extremely grab-able neck. To quel the sudden restlessness you felt in your hands, your gaze traveled down from his Adam’s apple to the exposed skin of his collar bone… which by no means did you any favors. That damn Green Day shirt was suddenly becoming the bane of your existence, because why the fuck did it have to sit on his body in such a teasing way, pooling around his waste in the valley between his pelvis and his…

And his…

…

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuCK—

“(Y/N)?”

And now every distraction comes to bite you in the ass, because of course Bertholdt’s soft voice called out to you as his green eyes were trained on your face, dark eyebrows quirked worriedly under his soft, tousled hair while his lips were stretched into a frown (god, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was pouting at you). With his head turned to face you, you could definitively see the strain of his neck muscles, his Green Day shirt shifting to reveal more olive skin underneath… and… his…

“… U-uhm… (Y/N)…?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, but you were too entranced by them to even muster a response. Those beautiful sage green eyes… framed perfectly by long dark lashes… they were practically beckoning your hand to find purchase on one of his flushed cheeks…

It was an innocent little gesture. Just lovingly cradling the side of his face in your hand, giving him ample time for him to pull away before you actually made contact with his warm skin. Worst case scenario, he asks what you were doing, and you could make up some bullshit excuse while you die a little inside, and this whole 30 second interaction could be forgotten with time, never to be brought up again.

That’s when he leaned into your touch.

And… uh… things sort of spiraled from there.

You don’t exactly remember how you started from point A and ended up here at point B. But all that matters is that you had him sitting in the space between your thighs, back against your front, and long, muscular legs spread so far apart, you couldn’t help but be amazed. While his hands gripped onto your thighs like they were his only lifeline, yours were multitasking between exploring his toned chest and giving steady strokes to his cock. Somehow, the end of his Green Day shirt ended up caught between his teeth (did you tell him to do that? Did he do that on his own? You couldn’t remember), barely doing much to muffle his high-pitched whines that you could only describe as adorable and hot. Grey sweatpants and plaid boxers were rolled down to his mid thigh in order for you to access his painfully red dick better.

The hand on his chest found one of his pretty pink nipples, causing a shudder to wreck through Bertholdt’s body as you circled the bud with your fingers. Then, after giving it an experimental tug, something mixed between a gasp and a moan left Bertholdt’s saliva-slicked lips, his back arching forwards. “Hhnrngh—!! Mm… (Y/N),” he managed to get out with a mouth full of fabric.

“I’m here, baby,” you softly cooed, continuing to play with his hardened nub in order to elicit more delicious sounds from him. “You’re being such a sweet thing for me… such a good boy!”

His cock jumped in your hand as beads of precum dribbled down from his slit. “Mmh—!! Ahh!! G-good boy f’you, (Y/N)!! Oh— (Y/N)! (Y-Y/N)! (Y/N)—!!” With every chant of your name, his voice seemed to rise an octave. You could hear it beginning to crack around the edges, cute little sobs and hiccups mixing with heavy breaths, and— oh, Christ, was he crying? “Nrhh… w’nna b… b’guh—ahh—!!”

Your mouth found the side of his neck, teeth sinking into one of the purple splotches you previously sucked into his skin. This received a broken keen from the giant, his hips bucking up desperately into your hand, and you couldn’t stop the adoring chuckle from escaping your chest. “Oh, my baby boy, you’re already so, so good.” With a skillful flick of your wrist, Bertholdt’s mouth fell open with the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard, shirt falling from his mouth while his head fell backwards to expose more of your little bite marks and hickies that littered his throat. “Yeah, that’s it,” you soothed, trailing your hand upwards from his nipple to the base of his neck. “Just like that, baby. Let me hear you, okay?”

“Oh— oh, fuck, please!!” One of his giant hands shot up to yours. Before you could even process it, he was applying pressure to your hand and indirectly squeezing his own throat. “Fuh… fuck— pleaseplease, (Y/N)!!”

You couldn’t ignore the way your heart jumped in your chest. Was he actually begging for you to choke him? No, he couldn’t be… that’s too good to be true… unless? “Hm? You like this?”

After applying the slightest pressure — just enough so he would know what you meant, but not enough to freak him out — a chorus of, “pl-please! Pleasepleaseplease—” fell from his lips. You slowly being to squeeze tighter and tighter until he let out a choked noise, followed by his breathless, “thah.. thank… thanky’h!! Hng!!”

With a high pitched cry as your only warning, his leaking cock spurt out white ropes, coating your hand and his torso in his hot release. Tiny sobs poured from his lips as you continued to stroke him through his sudden orgasm. You didn’t stop until he had to pathetically paw at your hand and gasp out, “hah… s’too much!! Too much!! Please!!” So, almost reluctantly, you released his cock from your grasp, his body slumping into yours as soon as you did. His tired pants filled the room, and you started to worry that you went a bit overboard.

“Hey,” you whispered, kissing the tip of his ear and reveling in the way he shivered. “How do you feel?”

“Hn… ‘mazing,” was his soft reply. Your sturdy grip was long gone from his neck (since y’know, it be a shame if you accidentally murdered him while jerking him off), which allowed you to see the bruises you left behind. Whoops. Hopefully, his shirt collars go high enough to hide that.

Getting him to lay down on the bed, you could finally admire the fruits of your labor. Drool dribbled down his chin, mingling with the tears of pleasure that leaked from his hooded and unfocused eyes. His face was a beautiful shade of red as sweat caused his hair to stick to his forehead. And… yikes… you should probably offer to wash his shirt for him, shouldn’t you? Tugging at its hem, you managed to slip it off of his body (with his help, of course. Even while totally fucked out, Bertholdt is a good boy), and then use its sleeve to wipe his face of sweat, drool, and tears before throwing it onto the floor. You could deal with that later; right now, a soft cuddle session was in order.

So, yeah. Moral of the story, you learned that Bertholdt doesn’t always dress up… among other things.

[evillex11]

tldr: geto ain't all that /j. he (may) actually never had his shit straight, gathered, and set as many thought he did (incl gojo). u can skip to the conclusion cuz this is way 2 long

i have the idea of geto being set on his goals drilled into my head so much that I forget how vulnerable he really is. he isn't really as “i've already decided and I won't stop at anything to pursue it” as I remember him to be 

like, I already know that geto's goals aren't solely for his personal gain or interests, he's not as selfish/cold-hearted as he might come off. he wanted to create a world where it's easier to live as sorcerers .... and it's not just bc he was almost killed by a nonsorcerer (toji) for a greedy reason and doesn't want it to happen to him again ... but he also had his friends and colleagues in mind—he doesn't want to see another innocent kid who had a shot at living the way she desired be killed again, he doesn't want gojo to be a tool anymore, he doesn't want to have piles of other sorcerers’ (his colleagues!!) bodies to be at the end. and mind you, when he decided to abandon everything he had, he was a teenager that saw too much as was spiraling out of control. he wasn't fully mature when he made his decision 

and if u maybe squint, u can see hints of regret in his decision... maybe uncertainty or just not wanting to pursue it as much as we're all led to believe. he was away for 10 years... that's a lot of time, what exactly did he do? he was running a cult and gathering curses for his grand plan of ridding the world of nonsorcerers. but in those years, he never posed any serious threat to the jujutsu world or nonsorcerers despite his already powerful technique ,, not until his declaration of war at least. but even then, it wasn't even like he was guaranteed to win bc of how strong he's gotten... he declared that war knowing he had a good chance of losing, it was half-assed (lack of a better term). and when he did lose, he didn't bother to run away. he let gojo get to him, he let himself to die in his hands

all that to say, maybe geto didn't know what he was doing exactly—he wasn't as sure about his end goal, where he was going exactly, how he was going to do it and whatnot. it feels like he just decided on something without as much thought as he should've and is bound to that decision and felt inclined to just... keep going. dare I say, the whole thing was to give himself a new purpose. your whole life being you're a tool, a thing with an innate purpose to fulfil, isn't very pleasant to realize isn't it? (would like to add: purpose/value of life is explored multiple times in jjk). so maybe he wanted to take control of his life back by steering his goal from the one instilled to him as a sorcerer to one that he decided for himself. 

his lack of actual, impactful violence is telling of this. he was shaken up by the events that stacked onto him that it caused a decision to be made when it's heaviness fell on him. he had a crisis n felt like he needed to get a hold of himself, his ideals/morals were slipping away and he needed to grasp it again, somehow. it's not actually as grounded as I remember, it's not as set in his mind as we think. it seems otherwise by the way he seems accustomed to his new life, how untroubled he looks when we see him in jjk0, how fulfilled he is with how it's going. he has new acquaintances, a family, a goal which he won't stop at anything to reach. but we dont see what's behind that... we don't see how he feels through all this, how relieved he might've been to have gojo kill him finally. 

sorry for being so redundant lol I'm blabbering. but basically, geto may seem like he laid a clear path towards a goal bc of how confident he left everything the day of the KFC breakup, but he's actually unstable and unsure as hell. he stalled a LOT on doing actual impact and taking BIG steps to reach his goal. deep inside, he actually doesn't wanna go down that path, he just said he will to have a hold of himself, his ideals, his purpose.

but what do I know? I haven't rewatched jjk0 yet and I'm not done rereading the entire manga so… I don't trust my memory that much. might've remembered some things wrong or forgot a detail so ..  feel free to point that out !!! as always, discussion is always appreciated :3

also this makes me a bit happy cuz now my “the deal” by mitski x geto suguru vision is now perfect<3 I'm gonna have fun making that animatic!!!! in my head almost each line fits him now, I'm so happy. I love u geto I love u mitski. I do hope I get to make that damn animatic. I'm telling you it's so geto-coded!!!

[orviposition]

hsy's wlw ships are sooo good. she has such amazing dynamics with other characters. the rizz queen of orv hands down

sangsoo; the ever sweet ysa took one look at hsy and decided that she Does Not Like Her. hsy took one look at her and thought that she will ruin ysa's entire career. roommates. hsy was willing to make an outer god pledge for her

heesoo; they can be the bodyguard x the heiress if you squint. and the Tension™. hsy being "evil" and jhw being judge of evil. jhw's strong sense of justice and hsy trampling all over it. opposites in every way shape or form. yaoi height difference. did i mention the Tension™ and the way they couldn't bring themselves to betray each other during the 46th scenario

seolsoo; the doctor and the writer!! their post epilogue dynamic is endless and beyond wholesome. hsy sliding in lsh's dms like "hey so if this character is stabbed and pulls the knife out will they immediately bleed out or??" and lsh replies with paragraphs upon paragraphs, not-so-subtly dropping judgmental hints cuz why is she hurting her characters like this. dms soon turn to coffee dates then they start dating fr etc etc etc. endless possibilities as i said

[hyukassubi]

🫧 No.2 Cuddler 🧸

Pairing: Jealous Bf!Hueningkai x reader Genre: Fluff. Not the bittersweet kind but actual cuteness overload, enough fluff to power up a whole plushie factory (ps. after re-reading this, I realized there might be the tiniest hint of angst. JUST A TEENSY LITTLE BIT IF YOU REALLY SQUINT THO, OTHERWISE ITS CUTENESS OVERLOAD I SWEAR 😭😭😭) Warnings: none! Synopsis: You enjoy Huening Kai's embrace, but, turns out, he isn't your favourite cuddler... Content: Reader pranks Huening Kai a bit, Huening Kai giving major golden retriever energy, 'Jealousy! Jealousy!', Reader loves plushies, Kinda puppy lovey-dovey ngl :>, Random highlighted words (mostly Huening Kai's name) cuz, again, thought it was super cute!! ^v^ Wc: 504 !!

Peeling the pink-purple face mask off your cheeks in front of your gold-bordered bathroom mirror. Brushing the knots off your hair after a busy day, throwing your work clothes off and putting your soft blue pajamas on. Trotting out of your bathroom to dip into the velvet living room couch where your lover awaits you.

“How’s your day been, sweetheart?” He says after taking a light sip of hot cocoa, watching an episode of Dug Days on Disney Hotstar.

You latch onto his free arm, leaning on one end of his broad shoulders. “Same old.” You yawn, looking at the tv. ”Same old.”

Huening Kai chuckled, staring down at your squishable face. “I’m so cozy, aren’t I?”

You nod.

“I’m a good cuddler, aren’t I?”

You nodded again.

Huening Kai smirked, ears turning the faintest shade of pink. “Am I… the best cuddler?” He looks at you with keen eyes, kinda like an excited little puppy eyeing a shiny new toy.

You paused for a moment. “No.”

Huening Kai’s face flattened, the air in his chest gone. “I’m not?”

“No.” You repeated more firmly this time. “I know someone far more cuddlier than you.”

Huening Kai striked the sassiest side-eye at you, but also, pouted. Just a bit. Okay, maybe a little more than just a bit. “Who?”

You smirked. “My best friend, my one and only. He’s so soft and cozy and he makes me so much happier whenever I hug him.”

Huening Kai freezes up a bit at that, briefly looking left and right for no apparent reason. “You… sleep with him?”

“I cuddle with him in my sleep, yeah.” You smile so innocently. “He’s in my bedroom right now.”

Now he was concerned. “He- He’s where now???”

“He’s in my bedroom all the time! Wanna see him?”

Huening Kai looks at you with meek eyes, throat too tight to continue sipping on his hot cocoa.

“Sure…” He says with uncertainty.

He harrumphed.

It was more than uncertainty, actually. His chest clenched with shock, betrayal, sadness, like a thousand kilogram weight pushed down his heart.

And when you opened that door, he couldn’t even get to himself to stare ahead and open his eyes-

Oh.

Your room was empty.

You skipped towards your bed, grabbing your cinnamoroll plushie. “Here he is!!”

Huening Kai turned red, facepalming. “I thought you actually had another boy with you !”

You looked at Huening Kai, and then cinamoroll, and then Huening Kai again. “But he is a boy.”

Huening Kai pouted. “How could I lose to a plushie?” In a quiet voice he went, “I actually got a little jealous earlier, you know…”

You smiled at him, sandwiching cinamoroll in one arm and slinging around Huening Kai’s waist with the other. “No one can ever replace you, Huening Kai.” You clutched onto your plushie possessively by then. “But no one can cuddle me better than cinnamoroll can.”

Huening Kai jumped over you, landing on the bed, arms around you. “I will not lose to a plushie.”

A/n: for those of you who don't know, cinnamoroll IS a boy 😤😤😤😤

Reblogs and reviews are greatly appreciated 🫶🫶

[inkblot-inc]

A Simple Meet-Cute

Summary: A slow night at your job picks up with the presence of a certain woman in red, this meeting also serves as the precedent for your life-course to shift...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): Dark Themes; there's no smut in this one, but this is an 18+ AU aka MINORS DNI. To start we got depictions of breaking bones (not in depth, but it’s there, suggestion of murder, mention of mutant trafficking (did I really go back there again? Yeah, but this time with a dash of discrimination toward mutants), let’s see… language and general violence, cuz hey, you know what I get up to...kinda-

Note(s): This timeline-wise is way before "The Bigger Picture". I figure after I had my medias res moment, I wanted to go ahead double back to show how Wanda and R met. Were they done around the same time? Yes….And your point? I'll also go ahead and say that they're both a part of the Scarlet Syndicate AU. The masterlist should be up pretty soon, and I hope you enjoy this one :3

Word Count: in the realm of 1.8k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man’s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.