#give the name to like a purple or something
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
revelboo · 24 hours ago
Note
The scavengers?! YEEEESSS!!1! my precious darlings :D They deserve this <3 can't wait to see more :) Thank you for writing this, i really needed something positive right now.
No worries :) I just really wanted to write these five goobers struggling
Tumblr media
A Lifeless Ordinary
IDW Scavengers x Reader
• “You realize that thing is sentient, right?” Fulcrum asks, leaning to watch Spinister trying to coax their new pet into saying his name. So far the only response has been for it to lift both hands, middle fingers extended in what he suspects isn’t a friendly gesture.
• Looking up, Krok vents as Crankcase hesitantly mimics the gesture at the alien and it starts laughing like a Cybertronian would. Everything about it, that it’s bipedal, its little face, its hands and legs, is uncannily like a Cybertronian in form aside from being organic. “Of course, I do,” he finally says, servos flitting over the controls to check everything is ready to go even though he’s already checked three times while they wait on Misfire. Knows he’ll check more times, but unable to stop since the repetitive gesture keeps him focused. And from overthinking exactly how much damage Misfire can do running a simple errand unsupervised.
• “Honestly, I’m surprised Spinister’s not forgotten it’s his and shot it yet.” Fulcrum winces in sympathy when the hulking purple medic seizes you and roughly runs a servo over your head while you try to smack him, chattering angrily before giving up and slumping in his hand. “Any luck with that language?”
• Krok hesitates as Misfire comes running into the ship, a tiny container in his servos. “We should probably go,” he says right as the natives start firing on the ship.
• “Did you steal that?” Fulcrum growls, as Krok powers up the ship. Not even sure why Fulcrum’s asking, because of course he did. Why wouldn’t he have?
• Indignities upon indignities. Dangling from the biggest one’s hand, you finally give up as his big servos pet your hair and he rumbles nonsense at you. As far as you can tell, you’re a pet. Not exactly flattering, but since they’re not hurting you and they’ve kept you trapped on their ship since finding you, there’s not much you can do about it. You’d made attempts to try and play charades with the big one and after hours of it you’d decided either you’re just awful at charades or he’s an idiot. But at least his hands are warm even if his touch is a bit rough as he tries to cuddle you against his neck.
• “In my defense, they refused to sell to Cybertronians. Something about us being warmongering abominations destroying the galaxy,” Misfire says, prying open the container and immediate leaning away from the stink. “Organic food for the organic.”
• Grumbling slightly, Spinister lowers you near the box and they wait as you look inside then back at them questioningly. “You think it knows what it can and can’t eat?” Crankcase mutters as Misfire huffs. But that is something Krok hadn’t considered. Surely you do know. Right?
• Whatever they brought you looks like blue noodles and smells like dirty socks. And they’re just staring down at you talking amongst themselves, because they can’t understand you. What even is this? It’s when the one with a chunk missing from his head bends and mimes eating that it sinks in. Surely they don’t think you’re going to eat this garbage? Apparently they do as the calmest of the five gently nudges you closer to the box. And inhaling to gather yourself, you gingerly pick up a slick noodle in your fingers and bite into it. By some miracle it does actually taste good despite having the texture of a raw potato. You suppose they’re trying to take care of you and that’s something.
• Listening to the miserable sounds that aren’t even marginally better than the tantrum Spinister had thrown threatening to shoot Misfire over the whole mess, Krok reaches out a servo and rubs between your shoulders as you keep dry heaving, because apparently you don’t know what you can and can’t eat as difficult as it is for him to grasp. The rest of the Scavengers had retreated a safe distance when you’d started noisily purging the food, so now it’s just the two of you.
• They probably weren’t trying to poison you. Maybe. Shaking and dehydrated, you slump over and the calm one carefully wraps his servos around you and cradles you to his chassis, murmuring softly as you press your palms against your eyes, head pounding and throat raw. His touch is at least gentle compared to the other’s as he runs a big servo along your spine over and over. When you’re less miserable, you need to try charades with him since he seems to be the leader. Maybe you can get it through his head that you’re not a pet. Right now, you just want to soak in the warmth of him and rest.
Previous
136 notes · View notes
lialuvsaven · 2 days ago
Text
Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!
Tumblr media
“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”
Pairing: Aventurine x reader
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)
wc: 3.3k
Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.
With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.
She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.
His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.
With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."
A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.
When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.
"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade
Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..….a gift? For his birthday? 
Is this a fucking joke?
The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.  
The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again. 
Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again. 
In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."
He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.
When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.
Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight. 
After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.
He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.
Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.
When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.
The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.
Aventurine sighs.
Drinking too much has never done any good to him.
Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.
The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.
Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game. 
When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.
"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.
There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)
His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.  
Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure. 
Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”  
Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."
"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."
The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.
You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.
"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"
In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.
Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.
"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all. 
Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.
(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3
83 notes · View notes
anifever · 1 day ago
Note
maybe some Dallas Winston OR Sodapop Curtis dating headcanons? :3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dating Sodapop Curtis HCs ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Sodapop Curtis x Fem!Reader
୨୧ : HC’s of dating Tulsa’s pretty boy
A/N : I see soooo much of Dallas all over tumblr so I picked Soda 😭 may do him next tho. Also Rob serves sm face
˖⁺‧₊˚ 🥤 ˚₊‧⁺˖
୨ SO attentative
୨ I wrote this for Darry too but he loves having his hands on you at all times
୨ I think handholding or a hand on your hip would be the most common
୨ PDA is scared of this man.
୨ Loves sleeping with you; napping, etc, he just likes knowing you’re with him
୨ Most of his jokes are awful so you laugh out of pity or are simply the only person that finds them funny
୨ Steve makes fun of his ‘charm’ around you all the time
୨ He always gives you his flannels whenever you get cold (or if there’s even a slight breeze… he might be showing off a bit)
୨ He’s also the type to lay his jacket on top of a puddle for you when you could easily walk around it LMAO
୨ He’s just a gentleman in general
୨ Carrying bags for you, opening doors, etc
୨ You also get piggybacks from him constantly even if you could walk by yourself
୨ You get spoiled whether it’s with affection or items- doesn’t even matter that they’re kinda poor
୨ You definitely get flowers every date night (whether he bought them or picked them himself)
୨ You have to care for him every time he digests dairy
୨ Drinks chocolate milk every morning anyways even tho he knows it’ll kill his stomach
୨ Also comforting him whenever he gets dragged into one of Pony and Darry’s fights
୨ You guys definitely dance around in the living room or something
୨ It’s pretty playful yet still romantic
୨ Protective.
୨ He also gets jealous pretty easily whether you wanna say it’s because of Sandy or just in general
୨ You get hugged CONSTANTLY, usually from behind
୨ You always come to visit him after school- or on the weekends- as he works at the DX
୨ You usually sit with him behind the counter but sometimes you have to go to the break room because he gets too distracted whilst working 😭
୨ On top of all that, you bring him lunches with you as well (along with ones for Steve)
୨ He remembers every little detail you tell him
୨ Like even if he’s a little dumb (😇🫶) he somehow knows what your favorite pre-school teacher’s name was
୨ He writes you short and cheesy love letters from time to time
୨ Yes, half the words are always spelt wrong but who cares??? You can’t make fun of that pretty face
୨ The gang almost never hears him call you by your actual name
୨ It’s always a pet name unless he’s talking about you to them and other people
୨ You eventually get used to/enjoy the smell of grease and gasoline from how often he gets covered in it
୨ You guys def shower together on a pretty regular basis whether it becomes sexual or not
୨ Baking together!! (he makes the biggest mess in the world and is kinda bad at it but you help him)
୨ You guys definitely get red and blue slushies from the DX and both have purple tongues an hour later
୨ You always offer to wash his clothes for him which seems kinda weird but it’s just because you want his clothes smelling like you/your detergent
୨ He definitely started letting you do it constantly from then on
୨ He’s literally the embodiment of “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!”
୨ He’s just such a sweetie- sodapop I wish u were real 💔
59 notes · View notes
c4ttheart · 1 day ago
Text
purple, inumaki toge x gn!reader
fluff. strangers to enemies to bffs to lovers, purple is your favourite color. shitty attempt at humor (this unfunny author’s fault) NOT proofread x 3.5k wc (i got carried away)
purple is your favourite color. it wasn’t always though, you used to prefer blue. the type of blue you can soar in. the type of blue you dream to swim in. or drown. the blue that was painted on the walls of your childhood room. the blue of your middle school uniform.
the first guy you liked was a douche. he liked giving you mixed signals, chatting your ear off about insignificant things one day- a simple way to get your attention- and ignoring you the next. once, you had asked about his favourite color, and he had replied purple after some thought. in the moment, you felt like it was cute, guys didn’t really often answer that. but then one of his friends nearby had laughed and exclaimed a big oooooh very loudly that had left you wondering why. it didn’t take long, because at the other end of the classroom a girl named violet was furiously blushing. you remember the way your brows furrowed as you quickly connected the dots- violet was another name for purple, or something. meaning you were not the only one he talked to, so when he asked what yours was, you were desperate to prove yourself to him. to convince him that you were better than her, more interesting. it wasn’t a very nice thing to think, now that you ponder on it, but you were in middle school. so, without missing a beat, you had replied « oh yeah, same! » maybe you had thought that having more in common with him would lead to something, or whatever. it was stupid anyways. liking him was a plot mistake. but you stuck to it, the same way your personality was (and in a way, stayed) completely attached to his.
when you met toge inumaki on your first day of high school after discovering you could do some sort of spiritual good/exorcism on what seemed to be negative emotions over the summer, the first thing he reminded you of was the normalcy of your middle school life. his eyes were of a purple so vibrant it blinded you, reminded you of why you had even agreed as to why purple was your favourite color. yet, at the same time, it left you uneasy, because you were, after all, being reminded of why you even liked it in the first place. toge inumaki looked at you and smiled on that first day, and it felt like he was applying pressure on a wound that hadn’t had the time to heal yet. you had remained impassive at his grin, and had promptly moved away from him, as if his very presence enerved you to the core. you hadn’t even shaken his hand, like you had with your fellow classmates.
toge’s world crumbled and crashed on that first day, when he saw your reluctance to be in his presence after a simple glance. he felt as if a piece of his heart had been shattered. the only reason he was in this school was to find people akin to him, that would understand him- yet you, with your piercing glaze and annoyed expression, you had promptly dismissed him the same way he had been his whole childhood. was he a freak ? a fake ? he deserved to be here. right ? so why, why had your feelings morphed into anger the second gojo had introduced him for you, since he was incapable of doing it himself, cursed speech and all. and if paining him wasn’t enough, you had to go and stomp on his pride, or whatever semblance of humanity he felt like he had left by getting along with everyone but him.
even the cursed boy that had appeared a few weeks after the start of the first year, you had taken a liking to him. everyone but toge, it seemed.
he tried to talk it out with you, well, as best as he could, but it seemed every time your eyes would lock you’d shudder away, furrowing your brows. toge wasn’t a mindreader, but he knew the expression on your face was distaste. so he rebuilt his world around you, pulling numerous pranks on you and clinging to you with a mischievous intent. it annoyed you to an extent you didn’t think was reachable.
it’s not that you hated inumaki, no, he just made you uncomfortable. well, he used to. at some point, he made you see so much red you forgot about the color of his eyes. and you weren’t the type of person to just stand back. you’d been a bypassser since you were born, and the only reason you were in this school was to stop that train of life. so you fought back. you played his coy little game and then broke down every single rule.
when inumaki added soy sauce in your drink, you’d cook for everyone but him. or you’d add soap in his dish. when he added bright dye to your shampoo, you added a lotion to lose hair in his. when he poured his water on your hair after training, you made sure to hose him down the next day. when he applied glue to your chair, you added small pins to his. when he cut off a strand of your hair, you made a big hole in his uniform pants, right where his crotch was. when he replaced your bedtime pills with foam animals, you used his toothbrush to clean the toilets. when he stole a piece of your food, you’d shove his head in his plate. while toge’s pranks were, for the most part, harmless, yours had a precise goal: humiliate him. (although you prefered the term annihilate, it sounded better.)
and apparently, you weren’t the only one suffering from inumaki’s pranks, just as he was from yours- your whole class loathed nothing more than being caught in the crossfire. (one time, panda helped inumaki replace your moisturiser with foot cream, courtesy of mean girls, the movie they had watched the night prior, and when you discovered, you sowed him to his own bed.) needless to say, they were ALL (including yuta, your sweet angel who could never hate anyone or do anything wrong) fed up with your antics. even gojo, who was amused at first, grew sick of having to comb out grains of rice from his hair from whenever the two of you would have a food fight.
so, gojo, being the genius he is (read: asshole), decided to pair the both of you up. and it would have been fine, you had worked with him before, if it wasn’t for the fact that he made sure every minute you were in class you would be together. he made sure that every single activity had to be completed in pairs, and he’d whisk yuta away whenever you would try and work with him instead. this lead to gojo’s new nickname being ‘senior citizen’, something you called him out of spite when he would not let you and inumaki work with different people. that only seemed to fuel him more, seeing as coincidentally, your chores became aligned with inumaki’s. all the time. you never got a break from the purple eyed mute, it seemed.
however, you suppose you should thank gojo in a way. thanks to him, you learned to not be bothered by the color purple in general. especially by the shade that flickered in inumaki’s pupils. you learned to resent him a little less. you learnt about him, and you learnt that it was never too late to make a new friend. however, that did not do anything but double the pranks you would pull. basically, the only thing that really changed between the two of you was that now, instead of pranking each other, it was anyone that managed to cross your mind. the way you looked at him also changed: slowly, annoyance formed into acceptance. the stars shimmering in his subtle glances never faded though.
when yuta, your sweet angel who could never hate anyone or do anything wrong left, you found a new best friend in toge. toge with his weird gelled up hair, toge with his weird manneurisms and his weird brainriot texts (god knows how many times he’d catch a ball and flash a grin that said´you ladies alright ?’), toge and his unique way of speech, toge and his weird sense of humour that, in a way, completed yours perfectly. toge with an expression so mischievous yet so patient at times you found yourself pouring out every single detail of your life till he knew every single nook and cranny of your former house, your old classroom, and most importantly, the desk where you’d exhange post its with the first guy you ever liked. why you ever disliked him. you thought that the whole reason was stupid now. toge who had also told you (in his own special way) how his childhood went. and why he didn’t like you all that much at first either. but it wasn’t resentment he had felt, it had never been. toge was sweet like that. not once did he bring himself to hate you in the beginning of the year because he didn’t know you well enough to do so.
toge inumaki thought you felt like a sharp inhale of fresh air on a particularly cold december night. it’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome. it’s good for you. it’s painful at first, but it becomes more agreeable once you get used to it. maybe you were more of a cigarette. addictive, knocking all the air out of his lungs (both metaphorically and literally, he hated sparring with you.) it doesn’t really matter what you feel like anyways. what matters is that somewhere along the weird revenges you would pull, he found himself caring for you. in the way lovers do. and now, as you’re sitting criss cross on his carpet, your back resting against his bed frame as you explain to him your villain origin story (aka your middle school lore) for the nth time, he finds himself incapable of fully listening. he hears what you are saying, but the only thing his brain is focused on is the way your lips move or how your fingers twitch and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if you raked your hand through his hair. or if you pressed his lips against his. or if you fell asleep near him, right here, right now, with your head on his shoulder.
and he knows he shouldn’t be thinking that way, not when you just called him your best friend, but he can’t help it. he can’t help the way his fingers itch for yours or the inhumanly fast pace of his heartbeat when you forget what boundaries are. is it selfish of him to want more ?
apparently, it is selfish. you don’t understand toge’s new behaviour towards you- it’s not like he understands this new fickle of emotion either, but he is pretty sure it is jealousy- as you gush about the ‘cute’ cashier that gave you his number. toge doesn’t think he is pleasing to the eye at all, in fact, he looks like he had to win a game of rock paper scissors to even secure a spot on this earth. his hair is flat and boring, his eyes common, and his facial harmony could probably win a negative score if he tried.
even though he knows he is clearly superior, the train ride home is quiet, too much to your liking. toge doesn’t seem to realise though, for the flock of thoughts swarming his brain is loud enough to fill the lack of conversation. but you’re not a mind reader, so to you, your platinum haired best friend just looks like a brooding mess. you quickly rule out the possibility that he might be on his period. as far as you know, toge was assigned male at birth. although maybe you should double check with panda, it’s odd for him not to be lively. when you finally realise that toge isn’t going to notice your raised brow or stop being grumpy, you plug your headphones in and lean your head on the window.
in front of you, toge wonders if maybe you’d like him more if he had straight hair. the cashier had bangs, so maybe he should get some too. he grimaced at the thought of having to throw away his expensive hair gel. he tried to distract himself because he knew the truth; you’d probably like him more if he could speak freely. but this is a destination he’s not ready to take. not now. maybe later though, in the confines of his own room. crying in front of you would probably make him change countries due to embarrassment. (he didn’t want to appear weak, especially not in front of you. you were always calm and cold headed, and you were so, so brave. and fierce. he loves that about you.)
when you finally arrive on school grounds, toge makes a beeline for his dorm, still moody from whatever bothered him during your city outing. you don’t like conflicts, and you certainly don’t like seeing your best friend upset. so after a long, tired sigh, you jog up to him, only for him to further ignore you.
« toge. tell me what’s wrong. » you urge, your footsteps growing quicker as you pace after said boy.
he groans in annoyance, throwing his hands above his head before letting them nest on his hair. you furrow your brows as him, waiting for him to turn around to face you. the hallways are strangely empty for this time of the day, but you’re glad no one will have to witness your outbursts, if that’s what it can be qualified as.
« talk to me. » you prod again, nagging him relentlessly as he visibly grows more impatient under your gaze. « you’ve been avoiding me all evening toge, i deserve an explanation ! »
he doesn’t answer to that either. no rice ball ingredient slips past his lips, and you’re growing equally distressed.
« you can tell me what’s wrong, we’re best friends after all aren’t we ? » you ask again, hoping your words will be enough to break him out of his temper tantrum.
« just shut up ! » he adds quickly, almost naturally, before you can properly finish your sentence. the aftermath of his actions is immediate as metallic can start to be tasted in the base of his throat. you’re left there, stunned, unable to open your mouth as small tears start to form on your lower lash line. no, no, no, he thinks, as he realises what he has done. he watches your hands claw at your lips, your throat, before your gaze settles on him again. all of a sudden, he is transfixed, immobile under the weight of your glare, like an ant waiting to be squashed. the beginning of the year flashes his mind, and he is left puzzled. you scoff at him, incredulous, giving up on trying to fight the effects of his cursed speech and instead waiting for it to subdue. he realises now, what the look in your eyes is. it is nothing but pure resentment, just like when you hated the color purple. he understands why a younger version of yourself crossed his mind now- there’s no mistake, your stare is the same hardened one than the first time he ever decided to prank you. stupid, stupid toge.
after a while, your vocal cords can resume their vibrations. you’re about to yell at him, he can tell, but instead, a flicker of doubt passes through you, visible through the window of your soul and that is enough to prevent cascades from falling out of his eyes. he does not want this friendship to end, not over something as trivial as this little mistake.
« what.. what happened, toge ? » you speak up, eyes glued to the floor with your eyebrows furrowed. tentatively, you continue, « you never use your cursed speech involuntarily. what made you lash out ? »
and although it feels more like you’re asking that to yourself instead of him, he finds himself pulling his phone out, already typing an explication. it’s a habit, because what is he if you don’t understand him ? what is he without you ?
he pauses before showing you the screen. 'i can’t tell you.'
« why ? »
he shrugs, but he knows why- he can’t let you go, he can’t let his jealousy get the best of him and push you away. he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he-
his inner thoughts are interrupted by your calloused hand coming up to touch his. he notices the way his breathing becomes less ragged at your touch, and he notices the tear that falls flat against the back of your tumb. it travels down your arm before eventually disappearing and he looks at you, watches as the purple in his irises meets yours and he wonders if you can see how big his pupils become when he looks at you. so much for not crying in front of you. wiping his eyes, he pockets his phone, still silent as ever.
« why ? » you ask again, slowly depriving him of your touch. he wants to say it so bad, to give in to your sweet nothings like he has done so many times before just to hear a hint of happiness in your voice but he can smell the rejection from where he stands, and he knows he will not be able to bear it. maybe he should write it down, type it in and hover his thumb around the send button with a practised ease, because every waking moment that is not spent with you he itches to send you that text, those three words that summarise how he feels, but he can’t. even so, you deserve better than a text. but he can’t say it out loud, no, or his knees will give out quicker than his voice.
« toge, please. » you say, looking at him with the look on your face you knew he never said no to. his expression mirrors guilt, and suddenly, it seems as though your interior slippers are the most interesting thing in the world to him, seeing as his eyes seem so hellbent as to not meet yours. you hand him your phone without a word. when he extends his palm to push it back towards you, you gently cup his face using your fingers to angle it towards you. his heart skips a beat, etching to be released of this cage of ribs, longing to be with you. you remain indifferent, ignorant to the way his pulse races. you soften your eyes at him again, delicately placing your phones in between his fingers. he shudders at the contact, yet he unlocks it like he has so many times and, hypnotised by the feeling of your warmth caressing his skin, he types the words that almost slipped out of his mouth countless times.
‘i dont want to be your best friend anymore‘ the screen reads, and you swear you can hear your heart shattering while his races in anticipation. « what- what are you saying ? »
he doesn’t reply still, so you urge on. « toge ? what do you mean ? » if this was under any other circumstance, toge would’ve probably started humming the justin bieber song. but this wasn’t any other circumstance, because although he always felt giddy around you, never had he been unable to hear the world around him due to the adrenaline rush this was providing him. he looks at you, who is looking at the screen, perplexed and on the verge of crying. he always thought he could smell the rejection, but, maybe it was only the stench of his own fear, seeing as you intertwine your pinky with his, softly yet in a way that is so demanding- your own way to tell him you don’t want him to leave.
he thinks that maybe, the impact after the fall won’t be so bad because at least he was free falling for you. he thinks of you, of how kind you are, of you nimble touches, of your preference for sunrises over sunsets, of how you hate waking up, of how you never let your tough mask crack, of how you love him, even if it’s in a platonic way and he remembers that your favourite color is purple. the same purple you used to hate and the same purple that dances in his eyes. he loves you, he has never been this sure of anything else in his life. a bitter smile makes it’s way onto his face and he pulls his collar down, mulls over his words before opening his mouth. his tongue swirls and his vocal cords hum to form the words « i love you. »
and in that moment, you know your favourite color is purple, it has been for a long time, but now it is for an all different reason.
i took two weeks to write this is insane.. at least im out of writers block (i hope) LMFOA
i think im HILARIOUS but my friends all think otherwise so please… tell me you giggled (trying to prove a point)
might be the first time i lowk like an ending btw (prolly cuz its the first thing i wrote and then i wrote the beginning and then STRUGGLED with the middle part like i was grasping onto my sheets for motivation)
ID LOVE LOVE LOVE to write a part 2 so lmk if ur interested !!
56 notes · View notes
angelwishess · 1 day ago
Text
୨୧ TWST HCS !~
Heartslabyul | Savannaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomfiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— Rambling / Details utc~
Tumblr media
Since Heartslabyul is based on Alice in Wonderland, I thought it’d fit for everyone to look super unique in some aspect!! Ace is the only one that wears a varisty jacket, Deuce has the most piercings, Trey has a bunch of different glasses, and Cater has the most accessories !! And Riddle….. hes Riddle idk /j
Riddle: He is a pretty boy and no one can convince me otherwise. I didn’t add it but i imagine hes rather pale, and gets embarrasingly red in the heat. Has the most beautiful purple-blue eyes and almost looks like a doll honestly. Slight, reddish freckles if u look hard enough lol (I also hc that he gets a white streak of hair after Book 6, but I forgot to add it 😭)
Ace: I didn’t add it, but I imagine he wears a varsity jacket instead of the school blazer!! The thought of him looking like a typical disney show bully was just too funny to me. Much messier / fluffier hair, and has such long, dark lashes that it makes every girl he’s ever known jealous. He knows it too, and hes an ass about it, will flutter his lashes whenever someone mentions it. Had stud piercings because yes !!! (Regarding the varsity jacket, I’ll draw how I think it looks some time :3)
Deuce: Slightly longer hair, but he tries his best to keep it neat. Has alot of ear piercings, but he tries to cover it up with his hair 😭. Super pretty bottom lashes , and a nice beauty mark underneath his eye. Has really pretty lips :3 He tries to wear both his nrc and dorm uniform as correctly as possible (struggles to tie a tie and has to redo it like 50 times) (<- His tie still ends up a lil wonky lol)
@skibidibabygirl DEUCE MENTIONED
Trey: I will be honest, I struggled alot with him 😭. Couldn’t think of anything major, but I thought it’d be nice to give him colorful glasses teehee. I would’ve done something better with that but I couldn’t find any good refs 😭, but i imagine he has a lot of cool looking glasses he just switches up cuz why not its silly and i like it HEHE. I added two little beauty marks on him too, as well as some gold ear piercings. One being a lil hoop like Cater’s :33. Idk if its noticable but I made his shoulders broader too!! That man is built no one can convince me otherwise baking weirdly has a lot of arm strength involved 😭
Edit: I imagine him to have a bunch of glasses like these!!!
Tumblr media
Cater: Fashion KING. He LOOVES to accessorize. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it !! I added some lil chain thingys on his tie too :3 Slightly longer blazer, and oversized pants. I gave him lip piercings just because it looked cool tbh HAHAHA, messier hair and two beauty marks under his eye to match Trey !! <3 He has painted nails, and I also gave him a hair clamp that makes his lil ponytail into the shape of a diamond if you look at him from behind. Customizes his uniforms as much as possible, the opposite of Deuce LMAOO
60 notes · View notes
we-love-moss · 2 months ago
Text
chartreuse is way too cool of a name for the color it is. we need to give a different color that name asap and rename the Color Formerly Known as Chartreuse to like. Spillage
0 notes
non-plutonian-druid · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the concept for this is "what if voltron aliens were like, a little bit less humanoid." Galra (and alteans, not pictured) get to be the most humanoid because theyre main characters lol
[ID: various voltron aliens redesigned to remove many of their humanoid features. The Galra are largely unchanged; the only difference is that they have six limbs. Keith is demonstrating standing on four limbs; he looks not unlike a centaur, although the "horse" part is just a continuation of his body, not a horse (and is also the same color as his human skin, because it is human skin. sorry not sorry). Kolivan is demonstrating standing on two limbs, and towers over everyone else. Krolia is demonstrating standing on all six limbs, which looks uncomfortable but possible.
There is also an example of an Olkari; whose face is unchanged but now is built similar to a praying mantis; a Puigian, who retains the approximate locations of the face markings and horns but looks more like some kind of deer creature; an Arusian, which is built like a snail; and a mer alien, which now looks like a fish with hands and antennae. The Olkari is based on Ryner, and the mer alien is Plaxum. End ID.]
115 notes · View notes
hello-galad · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
#I wanted to draw something fluffeyyyyy and this came out#if I had to put a name on this drawing it would be ‘safe. home’ because that’s how he feels when he’s in his arms#ANYWAYS. I like to give Vincent sort of corpse like details#He’s always covered from chin to toe but under those clothes he doesn’t only have the scars from everything Hojo and Lucretia did to him#while dead and then after he was revived. I mentioned he was enhanced and to make a SOLDIER scar is…well not a simple feat but Vincent is#his own kind of enhanced. He’s not like SOLDIER. He had three demons and a god-like WEAPON sealed in him so yeah.#Anyways i suppose that the first things you would notice would be the red under his eyes that looks a bit purple the more nights he spends#awake. It would give him sort of an aerie look that makes him even prettier but then there’s his hands and feet. the nails would look#blue-ish and one of his arms is terribly mangled and sort of monstrous/dead looking i supposed it was cut off and it regenerated like that#because of Chaos and company. then there’s the scars from where Hojo and Lu tore him open like a corpse and looked around his brain#cuts lacerations deep wounds they would heal normal that is why often he decides to act as a human shield for AVALANCHE if he doesn’t have#time to conjure a SHIELD to Cid’s dismay. Often if the wound is life threatening a limit break will take over and he will heal good as#new or well as he is now ha.#vincent valentine#cid highwind#valenwind#ffvii#i just love them#Cid would often cling to him if Vincent doesn’t do that first#OHHH another hc! Cid snores Vincent doesn’t BUT his lungs are not normal now so you can hear his breathing when he sleeps deeply also his#throat was cut open at some point so his vocal chords were cut and his voice sounds a bit deeper than it did before
31 notes · View notes
kindred-spirit-93 · 3 months ago
Text
BABY WILL SOLACE FOR THE SOUL!!!!! more under the cut. lore dump in the tags. be warned u may cri. enjoy :D
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
my boi loves bugs <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
first day on the field! pre flip flop era will wore cowboy boots like the texan he is
Tumblr media
will "my hair glows when i sing" solace. i tried XD
14 notes · View notes
chaosoftheages · 6 months ago
Text
OKAY HERE ME OUT:
A Purple gets amnesia fic, but not F&S style.
So basically
He doesn't trust King
He still thinks Orchid is alive
He's still trying to seek Navy's approval
He has literally no clue who the CG is
SO HE RUNS OFF TO FIND NAVY AND ORCHID...only to learnt that Navy split town nine years ago and Orchid died eight years earlier
So while he's wandering around, questioning what the fuck he's gonna do now, he gets kidnapped by these ppl tryna make a quick buck(or some random shit like that idk)
And if we remember the necklace King got Purple, I should note that it has King's number on the back of this necklace. The kidnappers see this and are like "....Brilliant."
So King gets a random call, forgetting his number is on the back of Purple's necklace, realizes they have Purple, and is like "...SHI-"
5 notes · View notes
webism · 3 months ago
Text
prt one, prt three
pornstar!satoru who pays for a month of your onlyfans—for research purposes. he needs to find out who this boyfriend of yours is, and figure out a way to get rid of him.
pornstar!satoru who knew it was a long shot, that you might not even show him on your page at all. and of course he got distracted a few times whilst scrolling through your posts, dick rock solid and at attention with each new angle of you of his screen.
pornstar!satoru who, when he finds the more homemade stuff, he’s pathetically jealous of the man that frequents your bed so often. how big his hands look as they lay lovingly over your skin, how in love you look as you suck his cock, how well his tip hits your g-spot over and over and—of course he fucking knows him. a video of you on your back piques his attention, your man in between your legs and lapping at your needy pussy like he’s starved. satoru knows that long hair, that cheeky sexdrunk smile that pulls at his lips while he eats you out, he knows those purple fucking eyes that turn to glance at the camera.
of course it’s pornstar!suguru.
pornstar!satoru who suddenly has his cock out, languid strokes of his fist over his length is nothing to the memories of pornstar!suguru's lips wrapped around his length. who is so enthralled by the knowledge that both him and his former co-star have gotten to feel the flutter of your pussy around their cocks.
pornstar!satoru whos fingers are frantic as he searches for more of you together, and ends up spending way too much money on subscriptions just to watch you get fucked stupid on the same cock that he once did for a film a few years back. who wonders if you feel the same stretch with suguru as you did with him. if you were forced to choose, relationships be damned, who you'd say made you cum harder.
pornstar!satoru whos dick gets impossibly harder at the thought of you not choosing at all. who lets himself picture it, you spread out for both him and pornstar!suguru, your eyes wide at the prospect of taking both of them at once. how he'd take your mouth first, how with each thrust of suguru into your pussy would push you forward onto his cock. how he'd kiss your boyfriend breathless while they're both balls-deep inside of you.
pornstar!satoru who strokes himself along to a video of you riding pornstar!suguru. who times his orgasm just right with your shared one, who goes fucking blind for a moment with the way his climax washes over him. your noises, suguru's noises, the imagined smell of sweat in the air. he moans, a dirty mixture of your name and his, something embarrassing and still he remains steadfast in his lust.
pornstar!satoru who, because he respects himself at least a little, gives himself fifteen minutes for post nut clarity to set in. and when it doesn't, he's texting his agent in the dead of night and very firmly requesting to be booked again
with both of you.
Tumblr media
pornstar!suguru who, upon having you home from a particularly tiring shoot, is doting on you with heart-shaped pupils. He's got you laying down with him on the couch, big hands working magic on your sore muscles.
pornstar!suguru who doesn't always ask for details about your shoots. he knows it's just work, hell, he's a pornstar himself, he doesn't need the raunchy details of your jobs to keep himself from spiralling. but something about today feels different. today, you seem uncharacteristically fucked out.
pornstar!suguru who is more than surprised when you're still rearing to get fucked silly that night. you groan about your shoot with a new pornstar, and how his touch is still lingering on your mind. and suguru laughs, because jealousy doesn't come easy to him-- if anything, knowing you're still in his bed at the end of the day just gets him even more worked up.
its when pornstar!suguru bottoms out inside of you, that shared gasp of ecstasy leaving both your lips that you mention how he asked you out for drinks after the shoot. you add on, of course, that you turned him down, but the comment still has your boyfriends interest piqued.
pornstar!suguru who, with a kiss to the corner of your lips and a gentle thrust into you, asks who this admirer of yours is. and just as the names about to leave your lips, his phone chimes on the bed with an email.
an offer. a threesome shoot: him, you, and a second male. it's the best paying shoot he's gotten in a long time. he hasnt quite scrolled down to see who the other talent was, so when you snatch his phone, legs still wrapped around his waist, he catches that smile on your lips. he catches the way you clench around him.
"that's him," you speak, such pretty words from your lips as you turn the screen to show him the name and headshot of pornstar!satoru.
and pornstar!suguru's dick gets impossibly harder.
Tumblr media
tags: @meowforluv @p1xlesk1nn @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra
PART THREE HERE!
13K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 3 months ago
Text
kiss it better
Tumblr media
in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you
18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D
“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”
Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 
“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”
You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 
“This is pretty good.”
“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 
When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…
He’s just so alarmed?
“Honey, your knee.”
“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”
The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 
“What did you do?”
You snort. 
“What did you do, Spencer?”
It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 
“What do you mean? I did something?”
“Babe.”
The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 
“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”
Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 
“Oh.”
God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 
“What’s wrong?”
The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 
“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”
His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 
“No. My iron levels are optimal.”
Naturally. 
“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”
“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”
Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”
“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”
“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”
At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 
“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 
“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”
You laugh. 
“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”
“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”
“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”
He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 
“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”
“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 
“Never.”
You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 
“You could kiss them better.”
Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 
“I might just do that.”
4K notes · View notes
ayyy-pee · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ℍ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕤
Tumblr media
Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader
Summary: But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 
But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.
or
Sanemi is just so down bad for reader.
Story Warning: Smut, Alley Sex, P in V sex, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sanemi being bad at feelings, Secret Flings, Secretly in Love, Sneaking Around, Some canon Giyuu hate from Sanemi, Reader is a Hashira too!
Art by: krit961 (Twitter)
A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom ever, but the Sanemi brainrot has been so INSANELY strong I just had to write SOMETHING up. It's nothing crazy and I'm rusty because it's been awhile for me but ugh. THIS ONE IS FOR YOU SANEMI!!!! Also shoutout to @lemonlover1110 for helping me with the title!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“We should head back…” You sigh, breaths coming rapidly. “Before…” A quiet gasp interrupts your words when you feel the sting of teeth sinking into your neck. “Before the others notice…”
”Fuck the others,” a gravelly voice growls into the juncture of your neck. Large hands grasp your thighs hard, holding them wide open as a hard form sits between them. “Don’t give a fuck if they notice, either. Maybe Tomioka will stop staring like a lovesick puppy if he figures it out.”
He buries his face further into your neck, grumbling against your skin. Something along the lines of “I hate that guy” and “I should gouge his eyes out”.
Your fingers slip into the snowy white tresses at the nape of his neck, gripping hard and pulling so that you can see his face. Pretty, long lashes cover hooded purple eyes that soften the moment they catch sight of you. The softness is such a contrast to the deep, pitted scars scattered along his face. But he’s beautiful all the same.
“Sanemi…”
At the sound of his name on your lips, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna defend him–”
“Sanemi –”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” 
Your lips set into a deep frown, and Sanemi matches your expression, stubborn as ever. “What is your issue with Giyuu anyway?”
Sanemi scoffs, “Giyuuuuuu,” he mocks with a nasally tone. “Stop talking about him.”
“You brought him up!”
His mouth finds yours, rough and hungry, all consuming. It’s all teeth and tongue, nipping at your lips because he knows they’ll still be just swollen enough by the time you both get back. He’s marking his territory in his own way, as much as he can. Possessive and jealous, even when he knows he has no reason to be, no right to be. But he can’t help it.
You don’t belong to him, you don’t belong to anyone. Because you know it wouldn’t be smart to commit to any one person. Not in this line of work.
Sanemi has you pressed against the bamboo fencing in the darkest part of an alleyway, just outside of the Ubuyashiki Mansion with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. It’s your usual meeting spot when you’ve been separated for some time, both of you too impatient to wait until the early morning hours when the Hashira meeting has finally ended to see each other.
“Fuck me,” Sanemi groans against your lips. He places an arm beneath your ass, holding you up as his other hand hikes your uniform skirt up to your waist. “Swear this gets shorter every time I see you.”
A giggle slips past your lips, because it absolutely gets shorter every time he sees you. You do it on purpose because you know it drives Sanemi up the wall to see little peeks of your ass and not be able to do anything about it. Makes him even crazier that he knows others can see it, too, and he can’t do anything but shoot death glares at anyone who dares to let their gazes roam. 
But you can’t let Sanemi know that. So you pout, laying your palms against his exposed chest and tracing his scars with your fingertips. You watch as his eyes flutter, sensitive to the touch. “You don’t like it? I can always request a change in uniform…”
Sanemi groans, leaning forward and kissing you hard. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He presses his groin into your, evidence of his arousal against your soaking core. “You look so good in it.” His hand slinks between your bodies, thumb going straight to your clit, where he presses down, a shit eating grin spreading across his face when your back arches off the wall and you moan. “Look even better in it when you’re making that face.”
Your nails dig into his scars and Sanemi’s reaction is automatic, hips rocking forward roughly and now you’re both whining into each other’s mouths. You’re sure if anyone came across the two of you, you’d appear as this horny couple who couldn’t bother to wait until they got home to dry hump each other. And outside of the couple part, they’d be correct. Sanemi ruts against you, his erection running deliciously along your clothed cunt. Your lips slot together, tongues deep in each other’s mouths as Sanemi grunts into yours, and you keen into his.
There’s not much time to waste, you’re meant to be at the mansion soon. It would be suspicious if one Hashira, let alone two were missing when the Master arrived and if asked, the crows would spill your secrets in a heartbeat. You need to hurry. And Sanemi feels the pressure too. Even though he loves to annoy you pretending he doesn’t care about being late or cluing in the others on what’s going on, he would never disrespect the Master. 
Pausing his movements and leaning back to peer down at you, Sanemi sighs. He’s so painfully hard, his length throbbing within the confines of his uniform as he drinks in the sight of your kiss swollen lips, just the way he wanted them. And your face flushed, pupils blown wide as all hell with arousal. He’s sure he looks much the same, knowing you’re just as possessive as he is, though you hardly show it. It’s simply easier to hide your little territorial marks, the scratches you leave on him when they blend in so well among the rest of his scars.
Your fingers ghost along his chest, finding his nipples and you pinch the hardening buds, smirking when you see the way Sanemi’s eyes almost roll back. He can’t take another fucking second of this teasing. Not after he hasn’t seen you in who knows how long. He wants you badly that even your voice is enough to make him ruin his pants right now. It’s the semi-annual Hashira meeting tonight and he’s not willing to wait until Himejima is done yapping to have you.
Sanemi tugs at his uniform, getting his pants down just barely enough to pull his cock out. The tip is angry, red, just as desperate to be inside you as Sanemi. It glistens with his desire for you and you only.
“Gonna fuck you now, okay?” He tells you, hooking a finger into your undergarments and pulling them to the side. He runs his digits through your folds, hissing when he feels how drenched you are. It helps when he slips two fingers into you, mouth falling open when you throw your head back with a cry, your walls clamping around him. This Sanemi’s favorite part. Watching the way your brows knit together, how your pretty teeth dig into your plush bottom lip to bite back your moans, how your pussy makes the most lewd noises as he pumps his fingers into you.
You are glorious.
Always have been. It’s why he can never get enough of you. You’re insanely strong, clearly. You’re a Hashira, standing alongside him and some of the strongest in the corps. But you’re also blessed with a beauty that rivals every woman Sanemi has ever laid eyes on. He’s drawn to you in ways he cannot explain, ways he doesn’t need an explanation for. It’s why he hates catching the little glances from a certain other Hashira. Not that anyone knows what you two have going on, but all Sanemi knows is that he –
“Sanemi…” you whimper, eyes gazing softly at him. “Please. I need you.”
And he doesn’t need to hear more. His lips crash against yours as he swiftly pulls his fingers from you, gripping his length tightly and pumping himself. “How bad do you need me?” He asks. Because he needs you so fucking bad right now he can’t think straight. His mind is foggy, his body burns with his lust for you. 
“So, so bad, Sanemi,” you loop your arms around his neck, kissing him just as eagerly as he kisses you. “I need you more than anything.”
Sanemi groans, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance. But his eyes never leave your face, even as the tip breaches your walls and makes him want to shut his eyes and focus on not cumming embarrassingly fast. He wants to see you, watch the way you lose yourself when he splits you open. The thought of it has him pulsing painfully in his hand. He rolls his hips forward, slowly, gritting his teeth when your wet warmth envelops him. “Still so goddamn tight for me,” he grunts. “Your greedy cunt is sucking me right in, fuck.”
Your nails dig into the fabric of Sanemi’s shirt, hanging on for dear life as Sanemi pushes deeper and deeper into you. As many times as you’ve been in this position with Sanemi, it always feels like the first time. He’s so long and thick, you have to adjust every time he slips into you.
“Oh my god,” you whine, and Sanemi pauses.
“You okay?”
“Yes…just…fuck me, please, Sanemi…”
He grips your thighs, pushing you back against the bamboo fencing to hold you in place. And then he thrusts forward, bottoming out in one swift motion and you both cry out in unison, the overwhelming pleasure making you both shudder.
“Fucking hell,” Sanemi sighs. He places his hands beneath your ass, keeping you still while he rears his hips back, only to slam back into you over and over. He pounds into your pussy at a relentless pace. Half because you’re on one hell of a time crunch, and half because he can’t help it. He feels animalistic when it comes to you, fucking into you mindlessly because it just feels so goddamn incredible. Every thrust feels better than the last, your warm walls clenching around him with each snap of his hips.
“I can’t go that long without you again…” Sanemi croaks, catching himself because he feels he’s getting too sentimental. “...without your pretty little pussy.”
“God, just say you missed me, you asshole.” You tell him, moving your own hips to meet his strokes. Though your words come out as more of this pathetic whimper than an actual demand and it makes Sanemi’s hips stutter. Just briefly. His hands on your ass lift you up before pulling you to sink back down on him.
Sanemi chuckles, leaning back just enough so that he can look between your bodies, watch the sticky strings of your slick connecting you, watch how his dick disappears. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes!” You cry when Sanemi hits a particularly tender spot. “Shit, I missed you so much, Sanemi.”
His brows rise, a little surprised by the confession, and a loud one at that. “Oh?” He kisses you hard, keeping his pace. Your confession turns him on more than he’s willing to admit. He missed you, too, though it’s harder for him to say so. Instead he fucks all of his feelings into you. 
How he misses you when you’re apart, because his thoughts are dangerously distracted wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re alive.
How he wishes you’d be assigned missions together, so he could watch you tear a demon's head straight from their shoulders. Then find somewhere to stay the night so he can fuck you on every surface possible (He’s done this with you before. He wants to do it with you again).
How he wishes he could open his mouth and tell you how he truly feels.
But those feelings have always been foreign to him. Sanemi is lucky you understand his silence, that you accept his actions for what they are and let them speak for him. You accept everything he gives you happily. And as you tighten your legs around his waist, as you quietly let your pleasure be heard by him and him alone, as your walls clamp down around him with your release, convulsing and pulling him into you, Sanemi can only thank the Gods for every shitty circumstance that led him to you.
Does he deserve you? Probably not. Does he care? Absolutely not.
Because you chose him. This secret…whatever this is. Out of anyone in this world, you chose Sanemi.
And it’s enough to send him over the edge with you, gasping desperately for air as he tries to find your lips again. He closes his eyes, pushing himself as deep as he can as his release floods your walls. It’s so much, a build up over time and he knows his seed will be dripping out of your core before he’s even had a chance to pull out. It’s always this way. Because Sanemi doesn’t bother entertaining other women when he’s away. He only wants you. So the second he’s within the same vicinity as you, he has literally so much to give.
You never seem to mind.
Sanemi breaks the messy kiss, placing gentle, sweet pecks to your cheek before he leans back to stare down at you. That fucked out look on your face almost has him getting hard again. But you don’t have time for that, so he just watches you and you watch him. And he’s glad for the fact that you can’t see the way his mind is racing with only thoughts of you, thoughts of this feeling he’s buried so deep trying to claw its way up Sanemi’s throat.
But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 
But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.
It's a little more than ridiculous actually, the way neither of you can resist sneaking glances, hiding touches, making excuses to leave on missions together. You and Sanemi…you're drawn to each other, your strings of fate knotted tightly together. It’s become impossible to leave each other alone. You don't think you'd be able to resist what you're doing even if you met as two civilians on the street. Hell, you couldn't resist each other all those years ago when you were low ranked corps members. 
Training was a confusing hell back then, every session filled to the brim with fury and a strange and thick tension neither of you could put your finger on until way down the line. It wasn't until one particular training session when Sanemi had you pinned to the ground, his strong hips pressing into yours, that you then understood what that tension was. The evidence was apparent in the way Sanemi's hard stare bore into yours, how the heat between your legs began to ignite when you felt Sanemi’s thick length pulse against you, how something akin to a whimper fell from his lips when his gaze snapped down quickly just in time to watch the hem of your uniform skirt slip further, enough for him to see the way your bodies seemed to just…fit.
Then his eyes were back on your face, your lips, now parted as harsh breaths escaped you. Your eyes, wide and wanting, peered up at him from beneath your lashes and Sanemi remembers this being the very moment he stopped denying what he had always known. You are breathtakingly beautiful. He also recalls this being the moment he knew he was done for. 
So when your hands found themselves placed against his not yet scarred chest, balling the sweaty fabric of his shirt in your fists…when he leaned closer and curiously rolled his hips against your clothed core and heard you let out the most captivating sound he'd ever heard, a sound he's been obsessed with since he's heard it…when he pressed his lips lightly to yours and you whispered into his mouth “I've never done this before”.
Yeah, Sanemi knew then that he was fucked. 
And though that night was not the night you'd given your virginity to Sanemi - that would happen years later - it was the night Sanemi tasted you for the first time. And he devoured you time and time again like a man starved. He would have you any way and any time that he could, if you allowed him. 
That was only the beginning.
Not much has changed in the years that you have been keeping up this arrangement with Sanemi. It's the only thing that you both keep coming back to, the only thing that feels solid. Though you both know it's stupid to feel as if anything in this line of work is not at risk. 
Every night that you lie awake, together or not, is a reminder. Every semi-annual meeting with the Hashira, mentally taking a headcount of everyone is a reminder. Every Hashira meeting without Rengoku, without Tengen is a reminder. 
Death is always standing just outside your door.
You can't afford to delude yourselves into thinking you can freely love and care for each other. Not until this thousand year war is over. Not until you are free to roam beneath the stars together without the scent of blood, the cries of pain and loss tainting the night. 
So, as you and Sanemi slip into the gates of the Ubuyashiki Mansion, your fingers brush together just briefly - a silent display of those words you dare not mutter aloud. You make your way to your respective places amongst the strongest of the Demon Slayer corps; you, next to Tomioka and Sanemi beside the Serpent Hashira. And while you quietly mingle with those around you before the Master appears, you miss the hushed conversation further down the line. 
“You reek of her,” Obanai remarks. Resting around his shoulders, his snake whips his tongue out at Sanemi in almost an agreement. 
“Shut up.”
“You're more tense than normal. Did you finally confess? Did she reject your advances?”
“I said shut up,” Sanemi growls. The chatter of everyone is already grinding on his nerves and your voice is not helping. He wants to look at you. See what - or who - has you giggling and speaking so sweetly that it's making him sick. It shouldn't matter. You can talk to whoever you want.
‘Except Tomioka,’ Sanemi thinks. But it's only because he's so clearly in love with you! He can't understand how you don't see it.
“Looks like Tomioka is making his move,” Obanai notes quietly, like he read Sanemi’s mind.
Sanemi can hear the teasing tone in his voice. The asshole is really getting a kick out of this. Even still, it's enough to have Sanemi’s gaze snapping over to you just in time to see Tomioka and you smiling sweetly at each other, nodding and whispering amongst yourselves. 
It shouldn't make Sanemi as upset as it does, just seeing you enjoy yourself with him, seeing him enjoy himself with you. Your smiles, your laughs, your kindness. It should only be for Sanemi. But you're a kind person…too kind. So kind you'd allow a monster like himself to fall in love with you.
Tomioka is much kinder, more understanding, better for you than Sanemi could ever be. 
And so, seeing you and him bond…Well, it fills Sanemi with a rage so hot he finds himself standing, eyes locked on the back of your head. You must feel it, his gaze beating down on you like rays of heat from the sun itself, because you fall silent and your head snaps around. Your eyes find Sanemi's immediately, gaze wide and questioning. 
Tomioka looks confused as well. ‘Good,’ Sanemi thinks. He can't wait to see the look on the Water Hashira's face when Sanemi does what he's been wanting to, but admittedly too scared to do for so long – claim you as his in front of everyone.
He lets the fumes of his anger fuel him, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. And then he's opening his mouth to speak, tongue on the roof of his mouth as all other chatter dies and the eyes of the other Hashira land on him. 
“I lo-”
“The Master has arrived!” Twin voices call in unison. 
And it's like muscle memory for every single Hashira, falling in line on one knee with their heads bowed as the Master approaches. His arrival extinguishes the fire that burned hazardously within Sanemi just seconds before, soothes the scorching left behind. His head is clear now, the reminder of why you both choose to keep your meetings between just you two evident.
You have a job to do. Defeating this evil comes before all things, even you. Though with the way Sanemi almost blew the lid off of your secret, he's not sure how much longer can go on without openly being with you. 
But it sparks something within him - a new fire. One that burns solely for one purpose. 
To defeat Kibutsuji Muzan…so that he can finally, and fully have you. 
3K notes · View notes
s0dium · 6 months ago
Text
Fucking a curse
Choso x F!Reader
Tumblr media
A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here
Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine a curse like Choso could give you the best orgasm of your life Warnings: Rough sex, intense orgasm
~ For a curse, Choso was strangely incredibly attractive. At least that was your first impression of him. His long black stringy hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outward, and his small dark purple tired eyes, framed by slightly thin eyebrows, yes, from the moment you laid eyes on him you were smitten. But for someone so breathtaking, Choso's reserved nature served as a stark opposite to his striking appearance. He was fairly quiet, rarely speaking, and often seemed content to observe rather than participate. For a while, he barely seemed to acknowledge you outside of your relationship with Yuji and your crush on him looked painfully one-sided. As a curse, it was easy to assume that he didn't care about you, that your presence was just another detail in his world of silence and observation. it was only natural that you would assume he wanted nothing, or rather, knew, nothing about intimacy. So how... how did you get in this situation? "Hngh...." you whine. Everything was hot, too hot. You dizzily look up, breath catching as you see Choso face hovering above you. His dark brown hair clings to his sweat-dampened skin and his eyes gaze down upon you with such raw dirty need that you feel your stomach twist into knots and your pulse quicken.
You are about to say something, something about how hot you are when suddenly you feel Choso's cock head harshly plunge deep into your entrance, the tip pressing against a part of you that you could only dream about reaching with your fingers. The pleasure of the sudden intrusion is striking, numbing, and borderline painful. It makes you reel unconsciously reel back to escape the foreign feeling, but a large strong hand splays itself over your stomach, not only stopping you but applying delicious pressure above where his dick sat deeply in you. "Can't stay still can you?" Choso's voice comes out breathless, a failed attempt to mask how entirely aroused he is right now. He picks up the pace and leans down until his lips are against the nape of your neck. You whine when you feel soft kisses peppered all over your skin, a shockingly tender yet bold exploration; each nibble and kiss perfectly attuned to your responses, drawing you deeper into a state of blissful surrender. Your cunt flutters and clenches instinctively, sending even more bolts of hot ticklish pleasure to your core. You are too lost in the pleasure to notice that Choso had placed his hand under one of your thighs, lifting the leg until it's pressed against your chest. The new position allows him to go deeper, which you didn't even know was possible at this point.
"Ah- God, you feel like heaven Y/N" Choso groans and throws his head back. You could almost cum just by looking at Choso because god he looks almost ethereal as he thrusts into you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, each muscle in his abdomen tightening rhythmically with every thrust. His lips part slightly, revealing shallow, hurried breaths. The subtle bobbing of his Adam's apple accompanies each pant, his eyes tightly shut, lost in the throes of pleasure.
"I wannaaaa...." You can't even say the last word because you're afraid it might ruin how fucking euphoric you feel right now. If there was a heaven, being fucked by Choso was it. What was even happening right now? Where were you? You feel so much, you feel everything, everywhere, all in this moment, but your mind and your mouth have never been taught to name this sensation.
"Please, Jesus, please y/n do it." Hes almost whining at this point.
"Choso I'm-" You are not even able to finish the sentence because you are already climaxing on his dick. Choso's ministrations don't cease, in fact he speeds up, making the insanely euphoric wave of pleasure crash down on you even harder. Your mind is blank, your thighs are shaking and your back arches of the bed as Choso fucks you through the most pleasurable feeling you have ever experienced.
"Stay with me baby, we are not done yet."
3K notes · View notes
bruciemilf · 3 months ago
Text
“Jean is team mom” “Ororo is team mom” SILENCE. Enough of you reducing women to maternal archetypes because you can’t be bothered to explore deeper meanings to their character.
LOGAN is team mom.
“Logan, can you buy us—“ “no” (buys the thing anyway)
Is constantly scolding his kids students for putting themselves in danger
Plans fun activities (life threatening danger room drills)
Handles the rebellious phases. You think Scott has the mental strength to deal with the fury of a teenage girl who can throw fireworks when she’s mad? I think not.
Hank can barely convince Jubilee to do her homework. Charles mentally checked out a long time ago.
Takes Jubilee, Kitty and Laura shopping. If he doesn’t like something, he’ll give them the blankets ‘that’s cute. I wouldn’t buy it.’ In the world
“What do you think, I’m made of money? We’re getting milk and that’s it.” — leaves with half the store
Is the kid’s emergency contact AND attends everyone’s PTA meetings.
No, ELIZABETH, He won’t be staying up all night cooking vegan cupcakes for your precious angel. He’s gonna buy them like a normal person.
Mom Stare (tm) that can turn you to stone
Will assign kids chores, complain they don’t do it correctly, proceeds to do it himself, then says no one helps around.
“You’re EXACTLY like your father” “…Are you talking about Scott—“ “of course I’m talking about Scott!”
Kitty wants to learn how to drive. He’s holding that safety handle till his hands get purple. “Check the mirror CHECK THE MIRROR—“ “it’s CHECKED :(( “ “CHECK SOME MORE”
Laura is his baby. Holds her everywhere. Will talk about her 24/7.
“Logan, do you know Bobby’s birthday? I need it for—“ “June 28th, Tuesday, 10:34:03 AM, blood type A, his nurse’s name was Susan, —“
Is in charge of birthday cakes. No one else.
If the kids feel down, or need someone to talk to, he’s got a 6th sense for it. Knocks on their door, Leland’s against the frame with his arm crossed, ‘wanna talk about it’ on his face.
The most insane lore you’ve ever heard
3K notes · View notes
rene-darling · 11 months ago
Text
WHEN- you store things inside your boobies
...very obviously fem reader lmao, you store things in the middle of your chest...
...lyney...xiao...itto...wanderer...
Lyney
You're showing lyney a card trick that learned.
But no matter how much he tries to figure out where you hid the card he just can't get it.
He never usually does this but he's just too curious!!
So he's been asking- no, begging for you to tell him how you did it and where you hid the card!
After much pleading and you repeating "a magician never reveals her secrets" you finally spill.
You tell him to watch carefully and he nods.
His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he burns red.
You reach down your shirt and pull out a card from in between your boobes
"I- you uh..ah.." he's stuttering, not sure what would be an appropriate response to this.
You just laugh "see, this is why I said you can't do this trick, your tits are too small darlin"
"h-hey- making you blush is my job! Not the other way around!"
he's used to making snarky remarks or dirty jokes he can't believe he fell for this!
Xiao
Xiao recently gifted you some adeptus beads
They were meant to ward away evil spirits and demons and keep you safe when he's not around
However, he's noticed that he can't seem to find you wearing them around your neck, so he decided to ask you about it
"y/n where are you keeping the beads I gave you? I didn't give them to you just for you to leave them somewhere to collect dust."
He huffed offended you wouldn't keep the charm on you.
You already insisted on not calling his name when in trouble so you should at least keep the beads on you!
You just looked at him amused telling him you had them on you but he insisted you showed them to him, so you did.
Pulling down the neckline of your shirt you reached your hand in to grab said beaded necklace.
His mouth dropped once you showed it to him and his face bloomed "i- y-you..you have no respect for the adepti!" he vanished after yelling that likely to hide his blushing face, and his boner
Itto
Recently you've hid one of ittos little purple bugs right before his little match with some kid
He's frantically searching for said bug, insisting that he has to take that one or he won't win! Not that he will either way
"y/nnnnn! Are you sure you haven't seen my little bugger! I really need it!" he's whining like a little baby!
Feeling bad for him you finally relent telling him you might have an idea of where his beetle could be
"REALLYYYY!!! You're the best babe-" you tell him to watch carefully as you pull your shirt down and from in-between your valleys crawled out the purple beetle you had hidden
His mouth dropped his eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets (imagine gojo when he looked at megumi)
"not fair y/n! Why does the beetle get to stay there and not me!" he's thinking about it being unfair,
Then the next second he wants to see if the beetle would fit in between his tits,
Of course, they do. I mean have you seen his tits? He's very proud of that fact
Wanderer
Nahida recently sent the both of you on an expedition together
He acts like he's not happy but deep down he's happy to be traveling alone with his beloved
Recently you both stopped at a shop to buy something but he had forgotten his mora back at camp.
He looked towards you waiting for you to pay, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you when you looked at him amused and asked "you sure"
"just pay." well, he insisted, so why would you deny?
As soon as you reached down your shirt his mind short-circuited
You pulled out a mora pouch and handed some mora to the shop keeper like it was nothing and then again stuffed the pouch down your tits.
Grabbing the things you started walking away as wanderer stood there just blushing violently
Looking back you yelled "are you coming or not darling?" he snapped out of it following after you
"did you really have to do that in fucking public?" he huffed in embarrassment, walking back home with a boner is annoying
8K notes · View notes