#eventual fanfic
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frouse-enthusiast · 2 months ago
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An au is forming
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The boys will NOT have a good time
And I'm very happy about that :>
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umblrspectrum · 7 months ago
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i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character
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bamsara · 1 month ago
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If you're stressing out about a part of the writing process for fanfic to the point where it's not fun anymore, just don't do that part
Post that fanfic with 1000 grammar and spelling errors. Make your characters OOC and give it a Mary Sue. It is a hobby you're sharing not a literature assignment you have to turn in by midnight
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zephyrchama · 5 months ago
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Water Wrinkles
Seven demon brothers sat solemnly in a circle around you. You did your best to ignore them. It wasn't often that you got to spend time at the human world villa, and you were intent on soaking up as much sun as you could before returning to the Devildom.
You reclined your beach chair back, crossing your arms under your still-wet hair. It was a gorgeous day. Perfect for being at the pool.
Leviathan let out a muffled sob. As the demon with the highest affinity for water, he blamed himself.
"Let us take you to a hospital," Satan insisted for the tenth time.
"They're going to laugh us out of the ER," you nonchalantly repeated.
Satan lowered his eyes and muttered, "I couldn't find any traces of a curse in the water... So how...?"
Asmodeus had his head in his hands, unresponsive. Sometimes his fingers curled around the ends of his hair. You briefly glanced over to make sure he didn't pull his hair out - that would be grounds for a real emergency.
"I can't bear to watch. Lucifer, do somethin'," Mammon whined. He was fidgeting all over the place and winced whenever he looked at your feet.
The oldest glared at you. You knew it was out of concern, but his fears were unfounded. Even Lucifer refused to listen to reason when he thought you were in danger.
"Actually, yeah. Lucifer, can you pass me a towel?" you asked. It was embarrassing having seven shirtless demons intensely staring at you. If they wouldn't let you go back in the water, maybe covering up would make you feel less self-conscious.
Lucifer didn't move. It was Beelzebub who plucked a spare towel off his younger twin and handed it to you with a shaking arm. He looked like a wet puppy, having been the one who first discovered your "condition" and swept you out of the pool.
Belphegor hadn't gone in the water that day. He only hogged the plush towels because of how comfortable they were and, following Beelzebub's lead, dumped them all onto your chair. Now he sat, wide awake. He was anxiously squeezing a loose chunk of concrete but at some point, without realizing, it got crushed to powder in his hand.
You had more than enough towels now.
"In half an hour you're going to forget this all even happened," you said to reassure the worry warts.
"In half an hour, you might be gone!" Mammon snapped back.
"You're going to be a wrinkled mess of skin and bones," Asmodeus weeped quietly.
Leviathan pressed his hands over his ears. Though, with nothing to cover his eyes he was forced to look at your wrinkled hands again. Based on the noises he was making, you'd think someone was torturing him.
"As I've said!" you reiterated. "All humans get wrinkly in water. Look, now that I'm drying off it's going back to normal."
Beelzebub grabbed your ankle, raising it for the brothers to observe at eye level. "I don't see a difference."
You didn't expect the sudden manhandling and slunk several inches down the lounge chair while the demons stared at your foot. Kicking and twisting your leg was futile. You modestly crossed your free leg.
"I think it's getting worse," Satan said.
"We need to take action," Lucifer decided.
Asmodeus was actively quivering now. Belphegor and Leviathan had crept behind you and started picking at your wrinkly fingers. You tried to swat them away to no avail.
"Give me 25 minutes! Literally! Probably even less, this will go away on its own! I just need to dry off."
"We need a solution now," Mammon asserted. The cogs in his brain were turning. "We need fire."
You tried to sit up, to jump up and stop Mammon before he burned the whole villa down in an attempt to dry you off, but Beelzebub had not let go and you stumbled. You grazed your knee on the concrete and winced.
A second round of panic overcame the demon brothers. Beelzebub let go, Lucifer picked you up, and Belphegor wrapped your knee with every available towel he could lay his hands on. Asmodeus and Leviathan were crying on each other's shoulders. Mammon came running back, oblivious to the second disaster that just occurred, with a flaming stick in his hand that Satan tried to keep at bay. If you got burnt on top of everything else, they'd probably go insane and destroy the human world.
In the midst of the chaos you caught a glimpse of your hand. It was practically dry. You couldn't even see the wrinkles anymore. You angrily wiggled in Lucifer's grasp as various hands fussed over you.
"Stay!!" you shouted over the clamor.
The brothers went tumbling to the ground, save for Lucifer who fought to stay rooted in place. You could finally hear yourself think again. There was primarily one thought on your mind.
"I just want to go swimming."
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turtleofthehollow · 9 months ago
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I need someone to write fanfiction of Lucifer and Alastor making a deal, but Luci botches the wording of the deal so bad that they end up married instead, and neither of them know how to break the deal, so they're just stuck like this until further notice
You can't tell me it wouldn't be in character for him!
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UPDATE: It has been written! Check out the reblogs for the link!
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darknight3904 · 2 months ago
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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦
𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
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𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨. 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 26𝘬+
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ - 18+
𝘌𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴:
ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ʏᴇᴛ?
ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ
ɢʜᴏꜱᴛʙᴜꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ
ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱʜ
ᴊᴜɴᴏ - 18+
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nvrhere · 1 month ago
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Sterek but they’re in high school together AU ♡
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ryemiffie · 1 day ago
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Guys.. Stan canonically writes fanfiction, presumably posting it to ao3.. I bet that man has got the ultimate author's curse notes
"Sorry I'm late to update guys! Got arrested by the federal government for stealing materials from them to rebuild an interdimensional portal to save my long lost twin brother! But hopefully things will be more consistent now that I'm done saving him!"
"My bad for this being so rushed, currently living through the literal apacolypse!"
"Didn't mean for this too take so long y'all, had to reread the whole fic to refresh my memory after getting my brain wiped to kill the demon who used to date my brother, y'all know how it is!"
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linkspooky · 15 days ago
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I'm excited to post this commission by @ oakyvii of a future scene in my Azula redemption / Azulaang fanfic. It's are moment of Zuko and Azula getting along as they wander the palace grounds.
if you're interested please check out my fic here on AO3.
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bigfatbreak · 28 days ago
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Hi quick question about the host au
Does lila think marinette is being legit haunted?
Because for some reason i could see host tikkis powers (which i think act up with high emotions because of that one post in the manynette au) acting up around her out of anger
yup. I actually have a chunk of fanfic written up for the AU that really goes into it, that I never finished nor posted, and now I'm considering posting it as a standalone just for fun
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frouse-enthusiast · 13 days ago
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I have like 3 more fics I need to post before November
AKA
I have TODAY AND TOMORROW to get 3 WHOLE FICS DONE
:,)
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twilightkitkat · 25 days ago
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Everyone knows that Deadpool can break the 4th wall. It's a large part of his charm: being able to directly address the audience and make popculture references that don't exist in the MCU.
It's a common gag in fanfiction for Logan to be slightly weirded out by this but to just let it go.
But can we talk about the implications of knowing about 4th wall? The potential?
Imagine Wade, knowing that he's trapped inside a story that nobody else is aware of. Knowing that his fate is in the hands of the storywriters and that if he doesn't perform well for the audience, his universe could cease to exist. Knowing that he's just a character and being completely alone in that knowledge.
Knowing that he's played by an actor. Knowing that nothing is really in your control. Knowing how your fate rests in the hand of corporations and money. (Knowing nobody is safe as long as they can be used to further your character development.)
He knows that there's a plot and the general rules of it. He knows that The Conflict can't be resolved that easily and when the end of the movie is coming. He knows how to tell narrative death flags.
He partially makes references to keep the audience engaged (to keep his existence renewed) and partially because it's funny to see everyone confused over a joke only he gets.
But every reference is trying to see if anyone else knows, too. He's throwing out the bait. (Trying to see if anyone knows that the world they're living in is fake.)
And everyone sees him as crazy for it. Schizophrenic, manic, insane. (And maybe he is. It's not like he can prove it to anyone.)
Wade assumes things about the world and they're generally correct. He knows the rules of the game, knows the writers, and has a razor-sharp intuition that has his allies questioning him sometimes (he knows popular tropes).
And so, when he realized that he was in a movie with Logan, he made a lot of assumptions. That they would have to work together. That they'd overcome their differences and grow closer.
But most importantly, he assumed the limits. Disney wouldn't make an openly gay character, would they? Deadpool is fine because he's a joke but Wolverine would never be seriously gay, even if he was queer in the comics.
So he sees it as safe to flirt and joke because it wasn't going anywhere. Being gay was funny to the target audience, but that was it. It'd never be taken seriously in a superhero movie. (Especially with characters as popular as Deadpool and Wolverine.)
Wade was either getting Vanessa or nothing. That was how the story was written.
So he never takes Logan's feelings seriously. He cared about him in a very family-friendly bro kind of way and that was it. He doesn't even consider the idea of romance. He jokingly flirts and spews innuendos, but they never went anywhere. Wouldn't go anywhere. Ever.
And Logan is confused because he thought Wade was attracted to him, yet he keeps brushing him off as friendly when he tries to be sincere. He one time legitimately shared a bendy heart straw with him by Wade's request and Wade just played it off as a bit.
And also, Wade keeps making references he doesn't understand. That nobody understands. And he'd chalk it up to saying random shit except Logan starting paying attention and it's all oddly cohesive and creates a singular story. It ties together in ways that complete nonsense doesn't.
And that's leaving out Wade's "intuition." How he makes comments about "tropes" and "cliches" like they're in a movie except that he ends up being right. Almost every time. It's like he can predict the future, but in a vague yet oddly specific way. Like he can see how things are going to go.
And sometimes, when Wade thinks Logan isn't paying attention, he notices how he mutters to himself in dread. And how something bad almost always happens after.
It makes him disturbed and painfully, achingly curious. What was Wade seeing that he wasn't? It could be that Wade was a secret prodigy, but that didn't seem to be the case? Some of this was too specific and far-fetched.
(All while Wade laments over the lack of agency in his own life, subject to the currents of the story while being painfully aware of it. He couldn't live a life of blissful ignorance like everyone else. It's like he saw a tsunami hurdling toward him—even if he ran away at full speed, the plot always caught up to him somehow.
Trust him. He'd tried to outrun it.)
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Kinktober (24)- Hair Pulling
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Scarlet Witch X Reader 18+
Summary: Waking up in her variant's body, Wanda has one thought on her mind. Find her family. What happens when she discovers that in this reality she has a wife not a husband.
Warnings/Tags: Scarlet Witch, Dream walking, Fingering, Oral, Strap-Ons, Rough Sex, Light Angst
Kinktober Masterlist
Opening her eyes, the red slowly faded back to green while she took in her surroundings, the unfamiliar room catching her interest. Wanda noticed she was now in a bed, soft and gentle breaths coming from the person behind as she moved to sit up right. Her fingers didn’t hold the corruption of the darkhold in this variant, her fingertips free from the black and darkness that stained her hands. Magic still coursed through her body though, bringing a smile to her lips as she tried to get up.
A pair of arms wrapped around her middle, the witch now only noticing how she was in nothing, the only thing covering her body being the thin sheet that covered the bed. A pair of lips pressed a soft kiss at the base of her neck, travelling further up the skin till their teeth nibbled on her ear lobe, hands tightening their grip around her middle.
“Where do you think you’re going, love?” you rasped out at the shell of her ear, your bare front now flush against her back.
Wanda’s mind practically froze as you continued to press your lips against her skin, her body warming up at the feeling. Her variant was with a woman? Where was Vision? The boys? The darkhold-
“Come on love, I’m sure I could persuade you to stay,” you tease while moving your hand lower on her stomach, Wanda tensing at the touch, trying to ignore the heat building in between her legs. She was here to find her husband and twins, not to fuck whoever was currently in her bed.
“I have to go,” she mutters, turning around to see you, breath hitching slightly at the sight of you. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen; your body now being raked over by her green eyes that darkened with every second she looked at you, your hands cupping her jaw and angling her head to look into your eyes.
Maybe staying for a little bit wouldn't be such a bad thing.
“Do you?” you murmur, leaning forward slowly and claiming her lips. The kiss was intimate and passionate, something Wanda has craved to feel for so long. You moan when she kisses back hungrily, guiding you onto your back as you smile into the kiss, your fingers threading through her brunette locks and keeping her head close. “I think you could stay a little longer,” you mutter, her hands drifting down your body experimentally.
“I think I could too,” she whispers in response, her fingers now at your hip bone. Maybe it was wrong to enjoy the love and affection you were giving her, pretending for the moment that you were hers and not her variants. “What do you want, Detka?” the low rasp of her voice, accent delicately wrapping around her words making your eyes darken with lust.
“You,” the tone of your voice a breathy sigh as you let your head loll back against the soft mattress, Wanda busying herself with kissing your neck, teeth scraping the juncture of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. Your words make her groan against your skin, moving to kiss the top of your breasts while looking up at you, pure desire swirling in her eyes. “I need you to touch me,” your fingers softly scratch at her scalp, “Fuck me however you want to, just use me love.”
Your words awaken something primal in Wanda, moving up to crash her lips to yours, tongue sliding into your mouth and dominating it while her fingers swipe through your folds. Both of you moan at the feeling, her amazed at the abundance of arousal now coating her fingers while you moan at the way her fingers draw circles on your clit perfectly.
“Fuck,” you groan against her lips when she slides a long slender digit inside you, curling it perfectly against your velvety walls to have you squirming under her.
“You like that Detka?” she taunts, repeating the action and hitting the spots that make you see stars, pleasure clouding your mind. “Of course you do, you’re just a little slut for me, aren’t you?” A sinful noise escapes you as she increases the pace of her fingers, pumping them in and out of you brutally.
“Yes,” you sigh out, back arching when she slides another digit into you, stretching you out. Your hands move to her back, nails digging into the skin as she crawls down your body, littering it in open mouthed kisses until she reaches your core. Her hot breath fans over you, teasingly kissing around your thighs to have you whimpering under her. “Please,” she licks a stripe up your core, groaning at the taste of you, the addictive sounds pouring out of your mouth encouraging her as she continues to thrust her fingers into you, tongue now swirling around your clit, mouth occasionally sucking on it making you buck against her face. “Oh god Wanda,” your hands move to clutch the sheets next to you, knuckles bleeding white as she eats you out like she’s starved. “I’m going to come,” Wanda merely groans into your dripping core at your words, sending you over the edge as you scream her name, legs trembling around her head as you clamp your thighs around her, rutting against her face to ride your orgasm out.
“Detka,” she moans out when you release her, your arousal now coating the lower part of her face as she moves away from your core. Her eyes gaze down at you, her want and need for you not fulfilled yet. “Turn over,” her voice dropping an octave, you instantly rolling onto your stomach and moaning as you feel a strap on pressing into your ass. You look back to see her magic fading around the conjured-up toy, her kneeling behind you as she teases the tip at your entrance.
“Are you going to take this like a good girl?” she husks out, pushing her hips into you making an unabashed moan reverberate around the room from you. The feeling of the false cock hitting even deeper inside you, Wanda pounding into you from behind makes your brain cloud with the thought of her. One of her hands goes to your hair, bunching it into a makeshift ponytail and pulling on your hair, your head craning back as her hips snap into you.
“Yes, I’m your good girl,” you moan out, hands grasping at the sheets in front of you for support as she relentlessly thrusts into you. A grunt leaves her lips as she continues to snap her hips into you so hard the whole bed is shaking and smacking against the wall with each thrust. Your body writhes under hers as she drills into you with no mercy, desperate to make you numb with pleasure.
“Look at you stretched out and trembling around me,” she husks out between especially hard thrusts before looking down to see the toy being swallowed up by your needy cunt and groans at the sight. “Taking me so well.”
“Please,” you whimper out, Wanda never wanting to forget the way you sound when she’s fucking you like this. Her other hand moves to press her thumb firmly against your clit, your body squirming at her touch. She tugs on your hair again causing a lewd noise to be ripped from the back of your throat, her thumb never easing up from circling your clit. “Please can I come?” you whimper out, body buzzing with pleasure.
“Come for me,” she pants out, keeping up her pace of pounding into you mercilessly. A scream leaves your lips as you tense, pussy spasming around the toy as her name falls from your lips like a prayer, Wanda slowing down to help you with your aftershocks and not overstimulate you. “Good girl,” she murmurs, moving down to interlock her fingers with yours as she kisses along your back.
When you’re ready, she pulls out of you, magic dissipating the toy away and moving to cradle you in her arms, your face instinctively going to the crook of her neck.
“I love you,” you whisper, making the witch tense.
“I..” your finger moves to press against her lips to quieten her, not wanting her to say it back.
“Shush love,” You pull away from her neck to look her in the eyes, a hand cupping her jaw, “I don’t need you to say it back, I just want you to know I love you, in every universe.” Her brows furrow as she looks at you, tears forming in her eyes at the care and love in yours.
“How did you know?” she whispers, you just smiling softly at her before pressing your forehead to hers, letting her enjoy the intimate moment.
“My Wanda would never fuck me like that,” you tease, “She’s scared I’ll break, but it’s ok because I love the way she makes me feel. I love the way any of you make me feel.” You let her move to your neck, basking in the warmth there as tears threaten to spill, arms snaking around your middle and holding you as close as possible, desperate to feel anything but the pain of her reality.
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good-griief · 2 months ago
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losing game pt. 1
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HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!
as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic
part two part three
read me click me
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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 
When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 
She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.
And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 
Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.
She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 
There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 
Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 
There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 
So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 
“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 
You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”
You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 
She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”
“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 
You were such an idiot. 
She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 
Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 
You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 
And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 
When would you learn your lesson?
“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”
And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard. 
Still, she texted you after the show. 
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She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 
But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 
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You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 
And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 
every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 
The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 
Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 
Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 
The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 
Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 
And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 
Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 
Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 
Then you called Ellie. 
It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 
But she called right back. 
You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”
“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”
You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 
“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 
“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
“If you’re already headed to sleep—“
“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”
“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 
You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 
You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 
“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 
Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 
There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 
“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 
You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 
Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.
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embrosegraves · 9 months ago
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𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕎𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘
Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader  Oscar breaks up with his girlfriend and McLaren start treating him like Daniel, but then he meets someone new
Warnings: I love Lily so much but I had to break them up for the plot. As much as it kills me to, I had to have some angst. Also, McLaren have a habit of not treating their Aussies too kindly
Ignore the date on the tweets k thx 🫶
series masterlist | next part
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You have blocked My Love. You will no longer receive incoming calls and texts.
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How was that? Someone lemme know! I actually had a bit of fun with this, so much to the point I've already started on planning out part 2
This is part 1 of I have no idea how many, I'll decide that when I get to the end lmao
Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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kaeyeahsworld · 3 months ago
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The Right Choice
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content warning: mild abusive relationship, thoughts of cheating (but none actually) scumbag ex, mild violence, regret, big dick toji, eating out, female reader, fingering, orgasm, 18+, angst bcs I love writing it.
A/N: another tattoo artist Toji brain rot. Not proof read or edited pls don’t come after me, come after or for toji which ever works for u :D
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It had been an entire year of your scumbag boyfriend setting up his own tattoo parlour right along side Toji’s.
Although in the initial days, your boyfriend’s place had done better compared to Toji’s simply because he was loud and obnoxious enough about his work, but when ultimately it came to finesse in the art Toji remained undefeated.
Toji’s calm but awkward manner with the clients made him an instant favourite in stark contrast to your boyfriend who only cared about the bucks.
With the tattoo parlours being almost beside each other, you often bumped into him. The first few times were just awkward but prolonged eye contacts, that went ahead to subtle smiles and Toji’s crinkling eyes, which at last proceeded to an awkward conversation.
“I see you around a lot. You work here?” He somehow mustered up the courage to ask you that, praying to the saints he hadn’t come off as creepy or overbearing.
Toji could never forget the first time he had laid his eyes upon you. It was late in the night while he was closing down, when he heard some voracious laughter coming off from Zack’s parlour. On the usual, he wouldn’t give two fucks if someone was even dying on Zack’s side but when curiosity got the best of him, he turned around and glimpsed at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
Only for the rose coloured glass to be broken when he got to know that you were dating Zack. The most narcissistic piece of douche Toji had ever come across.
He initially thought you might have been the same and somehow kept convincing himself to keep away, but none of that worked when you guys had started conversing.
You had met Zack at a concert and not knowing better started dating him and the year since then had been..well, bleak to say the least.
Zack was beyond your comprehension. He was everything you wished you were- loud, confident but the more you came closer to his world, the more distant you felt from him. The Zack that doted on you in the beginning and made out sloppily with this stinky breath was nowhere to be found these days. The Zack that was all up for late night video calls was now the same one who would leave you on delivered for 24 hours straight. Or should you say a different one. Still, you were a stubborn little one. Refusing to accept the reality of the situation.
To the add to the whole thing, was the guilt that was brought upon by your little crush on Toji. You would never cheat on your guy, but god Toji felt like he was everything you deserved and more.
His intense lingering gazes, his soft smiles, his gentle demeanour but the strength that had come with it. It gave you all the right shivers.
Ironically, the first time you guys spoke to each other was when you were trying to escape your boyfriend who was fighting with a customer about the design, when you had accidentally bumped into Toji.
Noticing the inked beauty peaking out on his forearm, you immediately realised that this was your favourite artists design.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah” Toji looked at you, trying to not let his heart eyes show,
“Is your tattoo Miyazaki’s work?” This question genuinely surprised Toji and gosh he prayed to the heavens to warn him if this is the part where he falls head over heels for you.
“Ya know him?”
“OF COURSE I DO??” You had screamed and almost pounced on his arm to admire the man’s work.
Toji had wondered then how your eyes would light up if you got to know he had trained under the said artist.
Fast forward past a few more of “accidental” bumps into each other, and some lighthearted conversations about everything and nothing under the sun, in a few moments and both of you could sense the undeniable attraction you had felt towards each other.
But neither of you ever crossed the line. You were a woman, taken, and he was a man who respected your choices no matter how strange or..shitty.
You couldn’t help but notice how different Toji was around you and when you were together with Zack.
The kind demeanour he held was immediately replaced by indifference whenever he would see you with your boyfriend who would pass on a snarky reply just to irk the said man.
Toji could easily give Zack 2 broken legs with how big he was, but one look into your doe eyes and he couldn’t even bring himself to look in your direction except throwing a finger off to the other guy.
But nothing could keep you away from each other especially during those lonely wistful nights.
You lying in your bed with your fuck ass boyfriend wasted somewhere, fingers plunging deep into your warm cunt and a heart full of regret, guilt and most of it all, lust for Toji. Nights that went away calling out his name in small whispers imagining his large hands that would envelope you and touch in all the right ways nobody ever could. Making you see stars and kissing you through the bliss.
Toji was no better. Stroking his cock in anguish, lusting after you like a beast in heat. Your plump lips, your sexy fucking hips that he would dip kisses all over, if you were his, your luscious skin that he would worship and mark, you were going to be the death of him.
But when the nights slipped away and dawn broke and as in when in you guys bumped into each other, it was the same all over. Hidden glances and lazy longing that would never translate into something more.
Until it had.
You shouldn’t have come to the parlour today. Things had been rocky between you and Zack for a few weeks now.
He had been smoking up all the money and refusing to take even the simplest of clients just out of sheer audacity and worst of all, paid no heed to your words more than ever.
Going to the parlour, at 2 am in the night after getting a call about the ruckus your boyfriend had caused and setting the damn curtains on fire, you immediately ran over only to come across the most drunk and high Zack had ever been, amidst scattered flames.
You knew from your experience to be better than to be around him when he intoxicated but the situation at hand was not helping. If only you hadn’t invested money out of blind stupidity into his tattoo parlour, maybe you would have been spared this ordeal today.
“Drag this bastard away miss OR we are gonna call the cops on y’all” said a stranger trying to control him.
“I’m so sorry about this”
“WHO…THE FUCK..lem..me gooo you little..bitch..”
“Baby listen to me, you aren’t in the right mind let’s get out of here..”
Zack had always been rough with you but never violent but it seemed like that was about to change tonight, when he grabbed you by your shirt collar and harshly dragged you towards him.
”ZACK! LET..ME GO!”
“Fuck youu..you” but before he could bring his face towards you, came a dangerous hit that probably bore into the drunkard’s skull.
“Hands away you sick fuck.” said the seething voice.
It was Toji. More than the pain, all you could think about was the relief that had washed over you on seeing Toji’ eyes that were ablaze with fury.
Before you could even say anything, he grabbed your wrist towards his motorbike and plopping helmets on both of you, drove away to your address.
He drove like the man he was at the moment- fast, angry and menacing. You clutched onto his waist for you dear life and that was the only thing, that calmed Toji a little bit.
You were here, he was here with you and you were safe and that was all he needed.
But in the half an hour that he drove both of you in utter silence, the events of the night slowly came crashing back to you.
Longing that turned into regret and that had now taken its ugly form of shame. Shame for who you were and who you had chosen to be with.
Sensing your hasty breaths on his back, Toji slowly parked his bike near the sea shore.
Even with unbearable longing like his, Toji had made it a point to never touch you. He would only do that when you were his completely mind, body and soul.
Tonight was the first time and he didn’t like it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to face Toji and when he slowly grabbed your chin to look at him, the sight before him tore his heart apart.
Tears welled up in your eyes and dripped down your soft cheeks like pearls, if Toji was a god he would be raging a war by now. But he was a mere mortal and all he could do was engulf you into him. Arms all around, caging you and protecting you, while you stained his jacket with your sobbing.
After the night had passed and somehow returning to your apartment with his help, you didn’t leave the confines of it for almost 2 weeks. Except for the occasional knocks from the said man or a get well soon bouquet, he had not spoken a word more to you, just as you hadn’t.
Both of you knew it was your decision in the end.
Almost as a sign, you got the news from your friends that Zack had ran away the same night as the police tried to catch a hold of him. Nobody knew where to and neither of them cared enough to find out.
The last checkpoint was having a conversation with Toji.
As you slowly approached his parlour, the ever so familiar but distant end of the tattoo street, one end of which was burnt ashes and the other end bustling with less customers compared to the usual, you awkwardly knocked on the clean glass door.
“Here inside” said Toji’s low baritone from the room within, as you noticed him deeply zoned in into his work on an old man and mistaking you for a customer.
You decided to wait outside in the waiting hall. It felt only right. It was only right to apologise for whatever had happened.
He had waited for you so patiently always, a steady wall that you had come to lean on unknowingly through the past few months and he never once asked anything in return. You loved him and you would wait for him just as long.
After being done and billing up the customer half an hour later, Toji peeked into the waiting hall to see who had checked in while he was working when his heart raced at the sight.
Here you were, in a soft white dress that had flown gently till your knees and straps falling agonisingly over your shoulder, looking like the sweetest angel and not to forget, with a small flower in hand. A delicate little rose and upon seeing Toji in all his black top and pants glory your heart welled up just as much as.
“Toji…I didn’t want to disturb you..so”
“You should have. You can always disturb me you know that right?”
He wanted to hug her. Touch her face, kiss her locks and smooch her lips. His restraint was a tight string waiting to break.
“Why are you here, Y/N?” His voice came off tighter than usual. With tears in your eyes and slowly offering him the small flower you found on your way here, you asked him
“Toji, can I get a tattoo?”
This took him by surprise. He didn’t know what he was expecting but tattooing you was definitely last on his list. Heaving a sigh, he gently took your fingers and the flower and moved you into the room with all his equipment.
Nobody had given him flowers before. The simple gesture had set in an ache for your being that he couldn’t ever define even if he wanted to.
If you wanted to do it his way, so be it.
“Where do you want your tattoo miss? Based on that I can tell you how painful—“
“My lower back”
“What—“ before he could even say anything, you were stripping down from your dress, locking the door while Toji’s mind was reeling.
2 weeks you had disappeared and now you were here in front of him , half naked.
“You favourite work of Miyazaki. Can you ink it on me Toji?” Of course he would. He could never say no to you. Not when you looked so sweet, sitting right in his chair looking up at him with heart eyes. Legs on display all for him. In nothing but soft lace panties.
“Fuck…darling, what are you doing to me..” he said as he slowly grabbed a delicate stencil of one of his favourite art, a pattern of the moon, the cherry blossoms and a ripple through it all.
Toji was an excellent artist but he never had to work with a raging boner before. His pants were bursting to the sight in front of him, you in a relaxed state ready to be marked. Almost a dream.
“Are you sure baby?”
“Yes. But one thing before that.”
“Hm?”
“Can you kiss me Toji?”
That was the last straw and before you could even say anything, Toji was at your lips, grabbing you by the back of your head and devouring you. You deserved slow and gentle and Toji swore to himself he would take all his time with you, but not at this moment.
Months worth of pent up lust and more so, love and the result of it, was kisses that took your breath away. Nipping away at your lower lip gently, as you opened your mouth he plunged his warm tongue into you, making you moan in ecstacy.
“Hmpph— To..jii..hm!” “Gosh baby do you know how many times I have dreamt of doing this to you huh? Your luscious fucking lips that you keep tinting up with that gloss..fuck..”
Littering kisses all around your neck, under your ears, licking across your collar bones, your whimpers were honey to his ears. Slowly wrapping your hands around his nape, you whispered to his lips
“Take me Toji. Make me yours, please.”
That was all you had to say.
Kissing you harder than ever, Toji grabbed your waist. “Turned around for me baby. Let me take care of you” with your back arching and on all fours on his chair, he ripped at your panties. You were a dripping mess and Toji was so close to coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.
“Toji..wait…it’s messy down there..stop—“
“Tell me girl. Did that fucker ever eat you out?” He asked venomously, slowly slipping in a finger into your sopping hole
“No-ughmm!!- he said it was too dir..ty..” his finger was so different from yours. Long and thick. If a finger alone was so delicious, you were sure you woud go crazy once his cock was in you.
“Proved himself to be a fucking moron once again. Well, you are all mine now. So let me treat your delicious cunt the right way baby yea?”
“Hmm—ahh!!” Dipping his face into your wet folds and antogonizingly licking up along them, eating you out from the back was Toji’s personal heaven. His nose bumping right into your sensitive clit and making you wetter by the second and now 2 of his fingers in your cunt, prodding you in all the right places sending shudders down your spine.
“Ride my face baby. Find your rhythm and make yourself feel good” Toji said and as he literally sucked and slurped at your folds and clit like a man starved. Spitting and licking and slightly pinching on your clit, in a few minutes, you were seeing stars that would normally take you so long.
“I’m cominggg Toji—!!!” Crying out and slumping over the chair.
Toji couldn’t get enough of you though. Marking you all over your back, letting red bruises blossom like petals, leaving you a sputtering mess.
He needed more. He needed you to cry his name out. Turning you around, he latched his lips onto your breast this time with a finger brushing on your clit lightly.
The wet muscle languidly brushing over your sensitive buds, teasing and biting and soothing it up again, you were so lost in pleasure, sure you would come from his attention to your breast alone.
“Faster toji..please..” “On your clit baby? Like this?” His gentle brushes had now turned into precise strokes and never in recent times had your dreamt of coming twice so quickly.
“Ahh!! Fuck!! Just like….that..I can’t! M gonna——cum..”
“Come for me good girl, let it all out… there ya go” and with the knot uncoiling, you came harder than ever.
“Such a good fucking girl for me” he whispered sinfully as he locked your lips in a gentle peck, making you ride out your high.
Little did Toji know that his sweet girl was minx in bed, all ready with her cunt clenching around for his cock. And he was all ready to give her the entire world, and of course his cock too.
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A/N: everytime I wrote Zack my brain kept going ‘gongaga’ send help.
A/N: just edited it a lil bit I’m so sorry for the all the typos 😭
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