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fawnsflowerbed · 1 month ago

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♡ Nothing Can Get a Look In On My Baby ♡

A/N: OMG TOOK ME LONG ENOUGHHHH!!!!! Big big BIG thank you to @remembermagnolias for this commission of Leon trying shibari out with his gf :3 And thank you for being so patient oh my goodness!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!

Warnings/content: NSFW, SEX, SMUT WHATEVER MDNI 18+ PLEASE! Shibari, obvi!!! RE4R Leon x chubby fem reader, second person (you/yours), porn with slight plot? Established relationship, mention of insecurities, Leon and reader are idiots in love, soft dom Leon, use of traffic light system (ifykyk), oral (male and female receiving), edging (on both parties), missionary, Leon’s a two pump chump in this cause he’s too busy staring at the reader, eventual creampie (DO N O T) :3

Word count: 5.1K estimate (Fawn don’t overwrite challenge omg)

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“..Shibari?”

Huh. This was a new one. Surprising to say the least.

It quite literally translated into ‘japanese rope binding’, or even ‘to tie’ if you wanted to get more technical. Some kind of BDSM thing, harnesses and restraints during sex. Leon had never really looked into it that much, not during his porn watching phase anyway. Might’ve been the whole Spain thing, any thought of ropes or chains and suddenly a bisexual Spaniard was eyeing him up and down. Conversation for another day.

But you, his sweet wide eyed girlfriend, were exposing your kink to him. His girlfriend who shivered and whined when he put a hand around your neck - not squeezing, simply owning. And you, you, wanted to be tied up and at his mercy. Yeah, it caught him off guard. Kinda like if a puppy brought home a two foot long snake, carcass dead and limp. How did you even kill that thing when you do nothing but chase your own tail and smother him with kisses?

He was no chump when it came to the ropes, hell he’d learned them well (joke intended). Take it from a man who was stuck doing drills in stinking, sweaty jungle weather for over 4 years, tying and untying stupidly complicated knots with names he’d now long forgotten; ropes weren’t something to laugh about. So when you approached him with the idea of trying something new in the bedroom he had not expected this.

Leon was your first ever boyfriend after all, it was safe to say he was shocked when those big doe eyes stared right through him and your pretty lips whispered ‘Just, don’t freak out okay?’

Did he freak out? Of course not. The news was a shock of course, but Leon had been through much worse than this. If anything, your girlfriend asking you to tie her up is more of a pleasant surprise than a reason to flip your shit.

“Is it.. Bad? For me to like- be into it?” Oh, don’t ask him in that tone. That pleading gaze, the demeanour of a trembling bunny. And now you’re confessing you’re a rope bunny. You’re gonna melt his heart before he has the chance to fuck you until it gives out. He knows you need this, his validation.

So of course he cups your face in his hands, making you feel almost painfully vulnerable. You had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not. “Bad? God no, angel. It’s just- you’ve always been so tame. I mean I was scared to put a blindfold on you for Christ's sake. Kinda throwing me off with the whole ropes thing.”

“I know I’m usually sort of.. Vanilla with all of this.” If that was even the best use of words for this situation.

“But you’d be comfortable with it?”

Oh, bless your heart. He’s been stabbed, shot at, infected and bruised. He’s more than happy to work with ropes. “Sweetheart, I’d tie myself to an anvil and throw myself into the ocean if you asked me to. Trust me, I’m willing to give it a shot. Do you wanna.. I don’t know, look up stuff for it? Is that how this works?”

“I don’t know!” You can’t fight off the giggle in your voice at his words.

“Well I don’t know either, dork!” It’s a soft nudge to your ribs. “You’re the one who wants to try it.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who’ll be tying it.”

So, now here you sat. Boyfriend towering over your prone frame, tying you up in ways that made you feel more like a Christmas ham than a girl about to get fucked stupid. You couldn’t help the insecurity, but how could anyone really? Next to Leon, anyway. Build like a brick house with biceps you wanted to gnaw on. That would be the real Christmas dinner if it weren’t only April.

“I think this is called a star harness..” Leon’s voice felt far too soft for a man who was currently working on binding your arms behind your back. The concentration, the lilt in his throat as he hummed.

“I can’t exactly see to confirm.” Of course you couldn’t resist sassing him, which was unfortunately met with him tightening the ropes by an inch. Just enough to watch you tense. Your ankles were already tied anyway.

“Hush you. Oh.” He clicks his tongue, calloused thumbs rubbing carefully over your wrists. Making sure you had just enough wiggle room. “And I may or may not have been practicing on that teddy bear I won you at the fair that one time.”

That got him a (somewhat feigned, somewhat real) gasp of outrage. “Not Jangles!”

“Yes, Jangles. Jangles was the best test dummy I could get when I was looking up those stupid tutorials.”

“Did he at least look good?”

“He looked very.. I don’t know, fashionable? His little bell ribbon went with it all rather nicely. Now hush, I’m concentrating.”

There was something exhilarating about waiting for him to finish up, his handiwork being part of his pride in cases like this one. Leon wasn’t the greatest with words sometimes, but he was good with actions. And right now tying up his partner was a pretty good action in his eyes.

“Is that tight enough, angel? Or too tight?” “It’s fine Leon, I’m comfy. Well, as comfy as I can be.”

“Alright, good..” Of course your consent and comfort mattered. This was all for you. A little bit for him as well, though.

I mean who can resist you when you’re oh so pretty wrapped up in rope?

“Fuck, just look at you. This what you wanted, baby? To be tied up and at my mercy?”

Not Leon, that’s for sure. He sits back on his haunches to really take in the view, eyes raking up and over your figure.

“I’m understanding the appeal. You look fucking adorable right now. Like a rabbit caught in a snare. Gotta stop giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes though, honey, or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Not like you could help it. This was everything you’d been imagining and so much more. With ‘more’ being a little insecurity here and there that Leon had to squish out with the heel of his palm. Like a nasty mosquito trying to sap the confidence from your oh so gorgeous being.

“It doesn’t look.. Weird, right?”

The very opposite. Leon thought if his dick got any harder it might just pop a blood vessel and send him straight to the ER. He could crack open a fucking walnut, maybe even someone’s skull, yet another trip to the ER just not for him this time.

“Weird? Sweetheart, you’ve got me hard as a rock and you’re asking if you look weird?”

“Just because of.. Y’know..”

Oh you sweet, gorgeous thing. Looking down at your feet like the answer is written across your toes, the shyness is clear as day on your face.

“What, honey? Cause you’ve got a few more curves than other people? Cause you’ve got so much more for me to squeeze and love? To manhandle when I finally get the chance to fuck your perfect cunt?” Sure, you might’ve been tied up and ready to devour, but Leon wanted to savor this moment. And that included making sure you knew how much you meant to him, both sexually and otherwise.

“You are breathtaking. You are hot. And right now you somehow manage to look even more beautiful than usual. And it’s not just ‘cause you’re sexy as hell. It’s more like- because you trust me with this. Me. Not anyone else in the whole world.”

And then he clears his throat. Right. Stop pouring your heart out, Leon. Get to the sex.

“So, I figured we might as well get this started the way we usually do when we- y’know.” Was that hesitance you sensed? Was he nervous? Surely not.

“Fuck?” Oof. Straight to the point, huh? “I wasn’t gonna use such an explicit word but, yes, fuck. So..” Smooth. Real smooth. “We’ll start from here.”

It’s almost too natural the way Leon eases you to your knees on the carpet, careful not to jostle you. Mostly in fear of straining your skin against the ropes, but also second-guessing his knot-tying abilities. Had Krauser been right? Were his loops too loose? Nope, do not picture your now dead mentor as you’re unbuckling your belt for your girlfriend to suck you off. Do not. Focus back on the way she’s looking at you.

And he did. You can see it in his eyes when he snaps himself out of his haze. You. You and your wide puppy dog eyes, parted lips like petals begging to bloom open. Leon can’t remember the last time he fumbled with anything other than potential romantic partners until he found you, but his belt is gonna end up at as a first on a new list; objects his hands were too shaky to undo as he prepped to fuck you.

He gets it, eventually, and you’re holding back a small smile at the sight. Leon S. Kennedy, proclaimed man without fear, bioweapon survivor and man that lovingly rails you into the mattress most of the time, is having trouble with his jeans. The belt no longer, but now the button and fly. And yeah, you scoff.

Which may have been a mistake.

It’s like a dog to a whistle, a fox to a cracking branch. His head snaps up, eyeing you over. Oops. Note to self; don’t challenge your boyfriend when you’re at his mercy and tied up. Recipe for disaster, and you were melting like butter beneath his gaze. Ready to be softened and then beat together with all those other ingredients; arousal, excitement, embarrassment. It could go right in someone’s cookbook: how to make the world’s most awkward batch of cookies.

“Ohhhhh, we wanna play games, huh? Getting cocky?” The smirk on his face is something lethal.

No. No no no you were not getting cocky! It was just.. A bit funny.

That seems to be the push Leon needs, because now he’s unfastening the zipper with no issue, shucking off his pants, just down to the upper thigh. Barely enough to tug at the waistband of his boxers. There was something so unbelievably attractive about him when he left his jeans on like this. As if he’s rushing himself to get his dick down your throat. Which, honestly, he is. The heavy outline of his dick behind cotton, his deft fingers sliding his underwear down, it’s too much.

And then he’s guiding you with a gentle but firm hand under your chin, thumb and index finger lifting your head just an inch so you look up at him through your lashes. Like a beautiful fawn, prey under his gaze. But he’s not going to devour you out of primal hunger, not for his stomach anyway. But out of love.

“Your wrists are bound, not your jaw. Open.” He mutters, and it’s like your open and loving partner is gone. Replaced by this tender but strict man before you, with darkened eyes. Blues swimming with stormy clouds over a windy day. His gaze had deepend with lust, the depths of his love reaching down, down, down into the hadal zone. So of course you comply, holding your breath to pass the shallows of your inhales, breathing through your nose as you take him. Slowly, of course. Licking a soft stripe that follows his frenulum, taking your time to please him. It’s a surprise he’s this hard just from tying you up, but you’re not too surprised. It’s Leon after all, he’s always been more of a giver than a taker. And when you’re inching down, down, your mouth warm around his dick, he grunts.

“Open up for me. Little bit wider. Rightttttt there, yeah.”

Right there. Settled against your tongue, steady and twitching with each blink of your watery eyes. You’re staring up at him like he hung the stars and moon in your name, but all he’s done is pop his dick past your lips. So he chuckles. Rubs a thumb over the swell of your cheek tenderly. “Always did go dumb when I stuffed your mouth full, huh?” He smirked. “Just conks that brain right out like a light, all you think with is your cunt and tongue after that. It works for you, sweetie. That’s what you should be focusing on. And no teeth. I know you can get bitey when your jaw starts to hurt. You pat my thigh, not skin my dick. Got it?”

You’d roll your eyes if you still had the mental capacity to move any body part other than your tongue, jaw and throat. God, he could be such a drama queen sometimes. But even drama queens had silky hair, rippling muscles and cock good enough to dumb your brain down into a pile of melted mush.

Was he high on the power play? Oh, big time. “Thereeeee we go, ‘atta girl. Fuck-”

But you were loving it just as much.

Leon’s hips were lazy, his thrusts leisurely. Rocking back and forth the same way a chair would. As if the process, the action of fucking into your mouth was a relaxant. You were a drug he couldn’t quit, that’s why he kept you tied up. Like locking the medicine cabinet. Sometimes he has to cover those pretty eyes of yours when you’re sucking him off or he’ll cum way too quickly. Blowjob eyes were your speciality whether you knew it or not.

Blowjobs also, apparently. Because already he was screwing his eyes up, trying to focus on the smaller details rather than the bigger picture. Like the way your tongue was shy, curling by an inch to try and catch a closer taste. You weren’t greedy, moreso curious. Or the way you hummed when his cock sat just right in his mouth, when it felt like perfect puzzle pieces in the most perverted way possible. You’re a dream. You’re sweet and tender and gorgeous and you have his balls ready to burst.

So he grunts, takes a gentle handful of the hair near your scalp, and tugs you off much to your dismay.

“I know- I know, don’t pout at me. And don’t look at me like that.” But you’re whining,you’re helpless. He’s got you tied up for Christ’s sake. “I just don’t wanna blow too quick, angel. You gotta understand. Wanna take care of my girl first.”

That seems to do the trick. You soften, the glare in your eyes melting down into glinted submission. Pleading. It’s kryptonite. It should be illegal for someone to look so fucking pretty. And it makes him snap.

“Warned you not to give me those eyes, baby.”

A squeak is forced from your lips as Leon hoists you up and onto the bed as if you weigh nothing. Like holding a couple of grapes. Which is a bit comforting, you’ll admit, knowing that despite your insecurity in your size your boyfriend is so quick to make you feel loved. Dominated. He’s always been good at that. He made you feel vulnerable but safe despite it all. Letting you fall not-so-gracefully thanks to your bindings, you allow yourself to sink down against the mattress beneath Leon’s gaze.

“I understand why hunters like.. Catching their food now.” He’s so fucking cheesy, but it’s hard to do anything other than whimper as his hands slide up your thigh, the force of his palm helping ease you onto your back. Closer, warmer. Yet you have goosebumps as if his fingers were leaving a trail of ice across your skin. “Spread your legs a little more, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. Stuck in a lusty haze had you bending to his will.

“How’s your light, sweetheart? Can you give me a colour?”

But even as you bent he caught you in his palm, letting you rather lean into his control than force you into it. No, to him it was an honour for you to trust him like this.

“Green.”

Who knew one little word could make his dick even harder. Yeah, your consent was turning him on. How obvious was it that he was whipped? Was it the way he hummed low in his throat at your confirmation? The way he was rubbing a lazy thumb over your twitchy cunt through the cotton of your panties? “Good. That’s a good girl. You’re doing great for me. My perfect fuckin’ girl.”

He knows you like it when he manhandles you. It’s pretty clear from the way you shiver and shudder, preening into the touch and melting under the heat of his gaze. “The good thing about having you like this, is that if you squirm,” A soft grunt pushed from Leon’s chest as he pulled you closer, nails grazing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Up, up, until the rope binding your ankles sits behind his neck. You’re tied to him. “I can just hold you still. Nice and convenient.”

It’s tedious. It’s torturous. And all he’s doing is slowly, slowly pushing your underwear to the side. The action, of course, is followed by a low moan. Not from you but from him at the sight.

“Fuck, baby.. You’re soaked through. All this from a couple ropes?”

You’re drenched, swollen folds and slick dripping, practically pulsing. A bleeding, beating heart Leon wants to devour in the most hungry, volatile and carnal way possible for the sake of loving you. So he does. Leaning in to lick a long, light, but firm strip from the bottom of your pussy up to your clit, grunting in satisfaction at the feeling. The taste. Leon wasn’t picky about the taste of alcohol, but he was about certain… appendages. But you were always fucking perfect to him. An aftertaste on his tongue, lingering on his chin as he huffed against the sensitive flesh.

Is it bad that watching you squirm like this is entertaining for him? No, probably not. Besides, he needs to get out of his head and focus on the way you look. Your hooded eyes, the heave of your chest, the shiver of your frame as he lets out a low, hot exhale. Right over the bare flesh so you whine pitifully. Oh, don’t make sounds like that, if his dick gets any harder it’ll dent the mattress.

Yeah, it’s too much for him.

In the blink of your eye he’s dived headfirst between your plush thighs, pupils shot wide and dilated, his large hands keeping you spread open. Well, as open as they could be right now. And you’re writhing, gasping so high in your throat it’s as if the force of your breath sweeps beneath you, lifting you back up, up off the bed. An angel arching back up to heaven. Slurping, kissing, licking until you cry so pretty for him. He should ask you to sit on his face next time, just to quash any lingering insecurity. He wants to consume you whole, even now as you try to twist and buck away from the onslaught. “Mph- none of that.” Not like you had anywhere to go, your ankles were still firmly tied and tucked behind the thick muscle of Leon’s neck. Keening. Mewing. Garbled whines of his name sneak between the cracks of your moans.

Now you’re anchored to him. And the simmering in your belly is becoming unbearable, an itch deep inside your uterus, thank fuck you weren’t ovulating or this would be a whole other thing. It would be claws, pulling at his hair despite having your hands behind your back. You would be the one hunting, so he’s thankful to have dodged that bullet.

But Leon truly wants to get the most out of this. So, once again to your dissatisfaction, he pulls away. Lazily wiping the last of you from his lips. “I know, I know, baby.” And he has the audacity to coo at you as if he didn’t just edge you right after edging himself. “Give me a colour, sweetie. Even if you wanna slap me right now.” Who does this guy think he is?

Apparently the most confident man in the world, because soon enough he’s running a heavy hand through the streaked gold of his hair like spun silk. He really does look like a prince, something ethereal that holds you close. That eases his way up your torso to look you in the eye. “Pst, hey. Colour?” He repeats. Not snappy or firm, but soft. As if at first he was worried you’d spaced out from discomfort.

“..Green.” A timid whisper, a sacred trust you share with him and only him. He’s one lucky man.

“Alright, baby. Gonna take this nice and slow for my perfect girl.” It’s not just for you, it’s also for him. Because he’s pretty sure even brushing the tip of his twitching dick against your pussy in just the right way will have him cumming on the spot. So he focuses on being what he always is. Snarky. Sarcastic. At least he’s consistent.

“And look at this, made myself an easy little handle. How nice of me.” Which is true, there’s a nice spot between your tits where the ropes sit perfectly like a handlebar. And he’s getting off on it. Cocky bastard. Leon was gonna get backhanded by you one of these days if he kept this up. Just thwack! With a bunny slipper or something else of that plush-but-flat-enough-to-leave-a-mark variety. When it happens he’ll deserve it, too. “Now there’s no getting away, huh?”

It has him smirking. He’s got you in a state, in such submission only he could deliver upon you. Where he expects a snark, there’s a whimper. A huffy glare replaced by the glossy sheen of longing and lusting, a hazy film over your eyes. Like a dated movie, a vintage film. Where everything feels romanticised and soft and all is right with the world. God, he has to stop staring at you or he won’t get to fucking you until the bed breaks.

There was something far too intoxicating about relinquishing your hold on reality like this, letting Leon take the reigns as he railed you stupid. You were in his hold, in his arms, in his control. His security. He was doing this because he loved you, the boner he happened to pop in the process just happened to be a happy accident.

And said happy accident now has him lining his hard-on up with your folds, tracing a teasing line for the sake of it before letting himself dip. Drag. Just the tip at first, simply to watch the way your face contorts and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, almost studying how he feels inside you. And then you’re flailing again, as if your hands want to clamber and touch and reach but to no avail, not while they’re bound. Not while you’re at Leon’s mercy. And fuck, if it isn’t hot. Another inch. And then another. He’s swimming in his own horny, lusted thoughts to try and hold off on letting go too fast. Clenching his eyes shut to get his shit together, because he knows if he looks at you he’s a goner.

It’s almost too much when Leon’s finally sunk all the way into the welcoming heat of your cunt, a bitten back groan finally tearing from his chest. He didn’t even realise he was holding it in, not until he was fighting to stop himself from blowing his load straight away. Two pump chump much, Leon? What about his reputation? Surely he could last longer, if not for him then for you. After all, this was all your idea.

But then you moan, a reedy whine from your throat plucked from a harp string. Heaven.

“Leon-”

Nope. Nope, nope it was definitely crawling up his spine like the world’s most venomous spider, tendrils winding so shiveringly past his ribs to bloom in his chest. Stop sounding like that or he’s gonna lose it.

“Jesus christ don’t- don’t say my name like that, angel. I’m gonna bust one before I even start moving.” A hoarse chuckle forces from his chest to suppress the urge to whine.

You’re perfection. You’re something that’s illicit and he wants to inhale you so deep into his lungs that he becomes an addict to your presence, your essence. Your sex appeal. He needs you to know that you are the most gorgeous thing in the world to him, with or without clothes on.

“I gotcha, honey.” His voice wavers like there’s a lump in his throat, and soon enough he's giving a hesitant, slow and deep roll into the slickness of your pussy. And holy shit. Any man who was celibate was a fucking idiot, because this was the closest to heaven Leon would ever get.

This is addiction at its finest. Leon’s addicted to you. Staring down with blown out eyes, taking in the view of his body moving with your own. Staring at where you connect. Maybe it’s the intimacy of it all that’s gonna make him nut. God, he needs to find a better word for that. Nut. Ew.

He had to make you cum now, or risk leaving you unsatisfied, because he wasn’t lasting at all. And he might just die if that happens. God, what if you flamed him in the groupchat with your girlfriends? He can’t have that. Needs to put his knowledge of your body to good use.

Thumb fumbling, he tries to get down to your clit in this position, and when he grazes the bundle of nerves with the curve of his nail he almost sighs in relief.

Okay, real talk. In any other scenario he’d find it just fine. Swears on it. He knows where the clit is, he’s very experienced in finding it any other time, it’s just a little more.. Complicated right now. Could anyone seriously find it easily with their girlfriend tied up and moaning like a porn star in their ear? Didn’t think so. Get off his back. All that matters is now you’re squeaking out a moan, clit throbbing under his touch and cunt squelching lewdly. God, his apartment must sound like a 90’s porno right now, not that he cares. Fuck his upstairs neighbours anyway.

He’s never felt so strained before, so hung up and wound tight. You bring that out in him, have him bracing shaking arms on either side of your head to abandon his hold on the harness. Leon just needs to look at you. Feel the way you flutter and arch and buck, the way you squeeze on instinct as your climax approaches. His pace quickens, humping into the clenching heat of your heat like his life depends on it. Watching, listening as you whimper, feeling how you writhe to meet every drive of his fat cock.

His voice is worn, weary, desperate. “C’mon baby, ease up for me. You gotta cum, I can feel it.” Yep. Focus back on the thrust of his hips, the way he’s cupping your cheeks so you look him dead in the eye. “Cum for me.”

It bubbles in your stomach to a burst. A heat so heavy you feel like molten sand, but Leon’s there to hold you. To sculpt you. To let you bloom into one of those glass roses, the forever ones he keeps seeing online. He’ll have to buy you one, maybe a few.

After he’s pumped a good load into you, of course.

It takes over your body like a wave of pure lightning, legs quaking and form almost vibrating at the sheer force of your orgasm. A snapped cry from your lips that lets Leon know he’s done a good job so far. Because he’s never heard you make that sound before. Not with every other time you’ve had sex, and he knows as a matter of fact you weren’t faking that. And nor were you now. This really was your kink, huh?

“Jesus- fuck-” Leon sounds choked, breathless. Like the grip you’ve got on his dick with every shake of your body is drawing all the air from his lungs. Usually your boyfriend’s careful about pulling out, wearing a condom, your birth control, all that shebang. But who is he to deny his sweet girl of a creampie for doing such a good job?

He has to tell his brain that, at first. Because it takes him a second for his neurons to fire and go ‘yes. We’re doing this on purpose.’ But once the lingering anxiety is blown out of the water - and his balls - it’s rather easy to go along with it. Thrusting heavy, with hard strokes up into the sweet warmth of your body until his brain short circuits. Groaning something deep and dirty in his throat as he lets himself stutter in pace until he’s sure he’s cumming inside of you, and soon enough that unfamiliar warmth you’ve always read and heard about is seeping into your pussy. It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Christ, if you both knew it’d feel this good you’d hop on the morning after pill and go at it like rabbits.

This must be what utter bliss is. Floating, embracing, yearning. A satisfaction only one person can provide as he pants and huffs above your exhausted body. As he rubs a hand over your face and asks you if you’re alright. If you feel safe. And you do.

Despite vigorously ruining your ability to walk, Leon still cares for you in such a gentle way. Even now as he pulls out of you and wipes you down with a warm cloth. Even now as he carefully eases you onto your tummy to help with unwrapping your bound wrists. The plush of the pillows a soft place to land after having your brains turned to mush. Sharing your kinks with him turned out to be like a bonding experience but so much more. A bond-age experience (he’d be proud of that one, you’re sure of it.)

“Christ, I did good on these ropes.” That is until the confused mutter from your boyfriend snaps you out of your post-sex haze, your lashes fluttering. “Let me just-”

“..What?”

“Wasn’t thinking with my dick when I was tying these apparently, cause.. Wow.”

“Leon!”

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273 notes · View notes

unladielike · 10 months ago

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At her incredulous query, Vivian ends up managing a small yet awkward nod. The whole entire time, though, she couldn't help but wonder if it was truly that big of a deal she had offered; after all, she would only be using her hand this time around and it wasn't like she had much prior experience, jerking someone else off. Why, given the fact she was still a virgin, Vivian doubts she would even be good at it. "I-I mean, we're girlfriends, right? In other words, it's only natural that somewhere along the way, w-we'd eventually reach third and fourth base with each other... plus, if I'm gonna redact you at some point, I would need to get used to your pipe, don't I?" Vivian finally attempts to reason while briefly directing her gaze towards the side.

Of course, she would still rather her first time be with a man because she found men more sexually attractive, but romantically speaking, she did only love Alex, to the point where if possible, she wanted to at least have sex with her girlfriend and actually be able to enjoy it. The moment she senses a hand grasping her thigh, however, Vivian's quick to abruptly jolt upwards and swivel her head around with cheeks practically reddening a darker shade of magenta.

Sure enough, she finds herself instinctively cradling a hand over the fingers gripping the bare skin... not quite prying them off, but holding them there as if to prevent it from travelling any higher. "H-Hold on, Lexy! Let's not be too hasty here, okay? B-Besides, when it comes to another woman... I had always wanted to be the one who's on top, not the other way around. And honestly, before you make me feel good, I wanna figure out your own body first," Vivian confesses. Despite insisting this, however, there could be no denying the fact that her clit had momentarily twitched with arousal beneath her short trousers, indicating that for better or for worse, she was starting to grow aroused. "So be a good girl for me... and take off your skirt? Or if you would rather me take it off yourself, lay back down and let me see what I have to work with?"

『🔧』 "Vivi, the- the makeup or whatever, is-... it's secondary, honestly. Like-... if I saw you even with just, like- that haircut, or shaved sides, or- or sporting a tank-top, I- I think all I'd wanna do is ruin you." Oh, she knows it must be genuine if she's not even trying to sugarcoat her words. The line between her own fantasy, and what Vivian might have actually liked, became more and more blurred by the second - but in this case, she saw that as more of a feature than a bug. There's only one thing that could have possibly broken her out of such a trance - and Vivian just handed it to her on a silver platter.

For a second, she just stops where she is, her head snapping up to meet Vivian's gaze. Her eyes blink, almost in disbelief, and her mouth hangs agape for a moment - before curving into an almost giddy smile.

"You... you actually wanna do something lewd with me?" Her hands pat her own thighs as though they're drums, her nose breathing out a heavy, excited breath. Honestly, she could respect the distance that she'd been taking up until now from interacting with her sexually - uncertainty, not knowing what to expect or how to act, is like poison to autistic women like them.

Up until now, even, she'd been surprised that she didn't simply ask about her boundaries. Perhaps that's what made the sudden suggestion so very thrilling to her. "Vivian, I- I thought you'd never ask! Go ahe- permission granted! Whatever you wanna do, my love! Only... if that's what we're gonna go for, then..." Slowly, gently, her hand glides over from her leg over to Vivian's thigh - as though not even she is completely aware of it's movement. "... I do want you to feel good, too. But- but only if you're okay with that! Whatever we end up doing, I- I promise I'll take good care of you! And... I trust you to give me the same treatment, I- I always have! Go nuts, babe!"

#dis parity #suggestive tw #║▌ ⧼ ⸢ ʚɞ ⸣︳m̲o̲d̲e̲r̲n̲. ⧽ ― ENTER THE MANLY HEROINE OF JUSTICE.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( SOCIALIZING / o2: vivian and alex ) ⤹ •• 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕤.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( QUEUED ) ⤹ •• 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪.#[ adhksahdkjsa I LOVE HOW VIVIAN WAS MAD ENOUGH TO THROW A ROCK AT THEO ]#[ but with alex she's just being a dork ]#[ and god bless alex for being excited tbh ]#[ cause in the meantime vivian is just like 'jfc would i really be able to pull this whole sex thing off?' and worrying her head off ]#[ honestly to this day vivian would never stop feeling guilty over the fact she has a preference for men but happens to be dating alex ]#[ cause even though she's genuinely in love with her SHE FEELS LIKE SUCH A SHAM OF A WLW ]#[ and thank you! i appreciate that immensely ]

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oddballwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 5 months ago

Text

I fell in love with an emo… BOY???

Tags: itafushi, megumi x itadori, bl, aged up characters, modern!au, side of SatoSugu, crack, NO SMUT, unserious joke about suicide, maybe some tension and suggestion though, megumi wants that cookie so damn bad, hey what’s junpei doing here???

Synopsis: There should only be ONE emo boy in Itadori’s heart, and it damn well wasn’t going to be the one who died in season one.

An: If you don’t ship itafushi, don’t read this LOL. This was so fun to write honestly. I didn’t take it too seriously. You shouldn’t either. The idea just popped up, and I wanted to write it as a palette cleanser from all the dark shit I’ve been conjuring up.

Megumi was going to need a dentist.

Yep, he was surely going to need to take Gojo’s precious black card and pay for all new veneers because his teeth were practically going to be dust by the time this visit was over.

It shouldn’t bother him this badly. His best friend and long-term crush was only visiting with his childhood best friend.

Itadori was a fucking saint. A ray of sunshine and pretty pink flowers on a rainy day. He exuded kindness and thoughtfulness in everything he did. He was unapologetically himself, even if he was a total dork. He was charming as all hell. It was no wonder how he was so popular.

Megumi wasn’t the only one that was blessed enough to feel his warmth, and that thought was sickening enough.

Usually, the black-haired male didn’t necessarily care about all the attention Itadori received. He didn’t bat an eye when Todo would unabashedly sling his arm across Itadori’s shoulders. He couldn’t care less when Nobara would sit on Itadori’s knees and apply skin care to his face, and he definitely never cared whenever Hana would run up to Itadori and give him one of the biggest hugs ever.

So, why was it bothering him so bad that Junpei was simply sitting next to Itadori… laughing at his god awful jokes? They were clearly close… Their knees casually leaned up against each others as they weren’t afraid of touching.

Maybe it was because Junpei laughed really hard at Itadori’s shitty jokes? Everyone loved Itadori, but it wasn’t because of his sense of humor. That was for certain.

Maybe he hated Junpei because he just sprung up out of thin air? Gojo had just shown up with Junpei with basically no forewarning. He knew how much Megumi hated when he did that.

Maybe it was because they had history together? History that didn’t involve Megumi. Maybe he felt some weird claim and ownership over Itadori because he was the first one out of the group of students to meet him. They had known each other the longest… even if it was only by a couple of days.

Or maybe it was because Junpei had that fuck ass haircut. The 2009 emo boy look was so stupid, and it didn’t help that he was wearing a My Chemical Romance t-shirt… It was an exact carbon copy of the one in Megumi’s closet.

“What about you, Megs?” Yuji voice snapped Megumi out of his train of thought. He looked up at the two pairs of eyes that were waiting for his response. Shit. He had been so focused on trying to deduce the status of their relationship that he hadn’t been listening for the past ten minutes.

“Hm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” He responded casual enough. It wasn’t unlike him to mentally check out of conversations… especially whenever Itadori brought up that godforsaken human earthworm movie.

“I was just trying to see if you wanted to go see a movie with Junpei and I?” Itadori asked without even skipping a beat.

Junpei and I?

Junpei and I!?

They were like some fucking package deal or something. No, he’d rather drop dead than go hangout with them. He couldn’t stand to see them together for any longer.

“I don’t have anything else better to do.” Megumi sighed in agreement. He couldn’t stand to see them together, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of them going on a date alone! Sorry Junpei, Megs was definitely going to tag along and be a complete cockblock for him.

“Really? Hell yeah!” Itadori grinned as he quickly sat up from the couch, exuding excited puppy energy. Megumi never wanted to go to the movies with him, so this was a treat. His two best friends going with him to see a movie! What could be better?

“Kugisaki!! Come with us!” Itadori shouted towards the short brunette, who was currently sitting at the table with Hana, painting her nails.

“I’d rather kill myself. Thanks!” Kugisaki called back to him, causing for him to pout in response. That’s fine. It was good enough that Megumi and Junpei were tagging along.

Yuji knew how much they had in common with each orher. He at least hoped they’d finally talk on the way to the movie theatre.

Megumi leaned his head back against the couch, and he started to dial Ijichi’s number for a ride. Despite being legal adults, none of them had their license yet. Why get a license when Gojo’s money and staff supported all of them?

It was a little while later when Ijichi pulled the car up. Megumi’s stomach flipped as he thought about the seating arrangement for the car. It was something he hadn’t considered yet.

The three of them could pile into the backseat, except that would be three tall men piled into the backseat. That would be far too uncomfortable. Itadori was the tallest. He could sit up front, but… that would leave Megumi and Junpei in the back seat.. no thanks.

They could have Junpei sit up front. Then, Megumi could sit in the back with Itadori and…

Oh look, Itadori was already opening the backdoor for Junpei and ushering him in before sliding in beside him… how nice.

Megumi was left brooding in the front seat, internally cursing himself for coming along. Being a cockblock required getting and keeping Itadori’s attention, but he had no fucking idea how to do that.

Their relationship had always been Itadori reaching out to Megumi, and the brunette acting indifferent towards him. Megumi envied him for being able to reach out to others so confidently.

“Gojo said he’d be home later tonight, Fushiguro.” Ijichi informed meekly, sensing the other’s frustration. He was just trying to make small talk, but Megumi really wasn’t in the mood today. He actually was never in the mood, but today was worse.

“I already told you to call me Megumi. You’ve known me since I was a kid.” He rolled his eyes at Ijichi, never understanding why the man insisted on using his last name.

“Right… right.” Ijichi fumbled over his words as he continued to drive. Megumi was grateful yet also hated the silence between them. Now, he could hear Yuji yapping to Junpei about the latest horror movie release.

They hadn’t stopped fucking talking since Junpei showed up. It was unnerving. Unnatural. No one had that much to say, did they?

“God, I wish you would’ve been there, Junpei. Megs hated that movie. You would’ve enjoyed it though.” Itadori said with a small laugh.

It was like a knife to Megumi’s gut. All this time they spent together… had Yuji been comparing him to Junpei? Had he secretly wished the Junpei was there instead of Megumi?

Aaaannd his teeth were grinding together again. He propped his head up with his hand, glaring out the car window. He wasn’t a cockblock at all. Fuck, he was a third wheel.

He debated on faking some sort of illness to stay behind in the car, but he knew Ijichi would’ve taken any opportunity to take him to see Shoko. Shoko would’ve found out quickly that nothing was wrong with him, and she would’ve forced him to explain why he faked being sick.

He trailed behind the two as they walked into the movie theatre. They were constantly bumping their arms together as they walked in perfect sync.

Junpei was a little smaller than Megumi, so he came up just to Itadori’s shoulder. Did Itadori prefer shorter men? He liked tall girls… Did that translate to men as well?

He knew Itadori didn’t care about gender. He had revealed such over a game of truth or dare. Kugisaki had asked if Itadori would ever date a guy. Megumi’s ears subtly perked up with the pink-haired male said he really didn’t care what gender someone was. He only looked for personality. With a bit more digging, Kugisaki had taken the honor of labeling Itadori as pansexual, and the young man agreed with such.

Megumi was glad that no one had pressed about his sexuality. It’s not that he was ashamed of being gay. Hell, shame wasn’t a thing when you had Gojo as a parent. He just didn’t want there to be that weird awkward tension that always happens between two friends when they find out each of them like the same sex.

It happened in middle school once. He was finally coming to terms with his sexual identity with the help of Geto. He came out of the closet to his closest (and only) friend in middle school, and there was a pregnant pause when his friend replied, “Wait really? I also like guys.”

He honestly preferred coming out to straight men. Sure, they’d make the common mistake of saying, “Well, as long as you don’t hit on me. We’re cool, dude.” but at least there was no complicated feelings when Megumi would always reply with them not being his type.

Lost in thought, he had completely been acting on autopilot this entire time. He didn’t even realize that they were already in the movie theatre until he sat next to Itadori. Junpei sat on the other side.

Itadori held a large bowl of popcorn on his lap. It was more than enough for the three of them to share, especially because Megumi despised popcorn. There was too many times when Gojo would try to serve popcorn as a meal to him as a young kid.

Granted, Gojo was a teen dad who ran off of sugar and desserts, so he really didn’t know any better either. Geto would always come by and save the day with his cooking.

A small tap on his thigh had Megumi tensing. He slightly flinched before snapping his gaze at Itadori.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispered with a soft laugh. Even though it was dark, Megumi could still see how bright his smile was. It made his heart skip a beat. Christ, he was whipped. “Here. I know you don’t like popcorn.”

Itadori gently nudged Megumi’s thigh once again with a bag of American salty chips. It was one of his favorite kinds. Did Itadori by chance know that was his favorite..? If he did, was that something that friends did for each other?

It’s better not to read too deeply into it. He slowly took the chips from his friend’s hand. “Thanks.” He muttered as he just stared at the chip bag. Something about the small token kindness made his heart swell. Itadori didn’t get Junpei his own special snack.

“Don’t mention it.” His friend replied, immediately shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Megumi took a deep breath, and he tried to relax in his seat. Finally, rational thought was beginning to come back to him.

Junpei was only visiting for today and tomorrow. If there was some weird tension between him and Itadori, it’s probably just lingering feelings of their past. Megumi really had no right to be jealous. It’s not like he had ever expressed his feelings to him. He had no claim on Itadori.

Junpei would be leaving soon and flying back off to wherever the hell he lived now. This would be a funny memory in the future.

All was well… until Megumi caught a glimpse of the two men whispering to each other and laughing. Their hands kept bumping together in the popcorn bucket. Itadori was leaned against Junpei so they could hear each other better.

Fuck this. This was torture to witness. Junpei could get fucked for all Megumi cared. Who needs to visit their childhood best friend for a full two days, and who cared if Megumi had no claim over Itadori!? He was still his best friend. That had to count for something.

The movie Itadori had chosen, Human Tarantula, was nothing like Human Earthworm. It took a horror twist upon the movie, and there was little to no romance.

If Megumi wanted his attention, he was going to have to fight for it.

Even though the jump scares were pretty predictable, the next one that happened, Megumi sharply inhaled, and his hand latched onto Itadori’s thigh, feigning terror from the movie.

The pink-haired male straightened, and he looked away from Junpei for once as he looked over at Megumi. He never usually got scared during these films. Did… did Megumi have a secret fear of spiders?

Itadori leaned into Megumi, his mouth next to his friend’s ear as he softly whispered a, “You alright?” to him.

The brunette was thankful it was too dark in the movie theatre for Itadori to see how much that affected him. His cheeks flushed a soft red, and he carefully removed his hand from his friend’s thigh. “I’m fine..” He responded, not risking a glance in Itadori’s direction.

Itadori softly laughed. It was totally like Megumi to act like he wasn’t scared. The pink-haired male just didn’t expect him to be so afraid of spiders. It was cute though. He made a mental note of it. He would be the designated person to take care of spiders if they ever crawled their way into the house.

It wasn’t five minutes later until Itadori and Junpei were all huddled up together once again. They weren’t even talking. They were just leaned against each other, enjoying the movie together… like a couple.

It made Megumi’s stomach turn. He had to act scared to get Itadori’s attention even for just a minute. Meanwhile the emo with the fucked ass haircut can manage to keep his attention the entire day.

Junpei was getting to experience Itadori whispering into his ear constantly throughout the entire movie — something that Megumi only got to experience once, and it was something he craved again.

He was about to just excuse himself to the bathroom to go hide in self-deprecation. He was tired of third wheeling, and he was certainly fucking tired of hearing Junpei giggle at Itadori’s comments.

A scene played on the giant movie screen of a whole nest of baby spiders crawling around. It was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl with disgust. The sound alone made Megumi’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He wasn’t actually afraid of spiders, but he also didn’t fuck with them either.

A hand rested on his knee, and Megumi tensed. Itadori casually had his palm on the brunette’s knee. He focused on his breathing — trying to not appear as if he was about to die over such a simple touch.

Itadori was clearly just trying to soothe him. It’s not like this is a romantic gesture. No, this is just what friends did for each other, right..?

His thumb gently stroked the outer part of his knee, and Megumi gripped onto the arm rest of the chair like he was fighting for his life. His heart was racing in his chest. Butterflies swarmed his stomach. Itadori and him were close, but they had never even shared a hug before. They weren’t the type of friends to casually share touches… like him and Junpei were.

Of course, on the outside, Megumi looked terrified. Itadori genuinely pitied his friend. He would’ve chosen a different movie if he knew about Megumi’s aversion to spiders.

His hand continued to caress his friend’s knee, thinking this would be a soothing motion to ease his terror, but Megumi was nearly shaking.

Itadori leaned over against him once more. “We can go if you’re not having a good time.” His breath brushed against the shell of his ear, causing Megumi to shudder.

“I’m fine.” He managed to get out in a low, steady tone.

Itadori gave his knee one good squeeze before continuing to rub circles around his knee. Megumi swallowed harshly as he tried to keep his breath slow and steady.

The rest of the movie went by painfully fast. Megumi couldn’t focus with Itadori’s hand on his knee, and he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. His hand itched to just reach down and hold it, but he was too nervous. He kept trying to remind himself that Itadori was likely only doing this so he could be a good friend.

The loss of contact had Mugumi’s heart sinking down into his stomach. Itadori was right back to being all up Junpei’s ass. Were they in some weird ass throuple situation? Is that what people thought about them as they saw them in passing? Two emos sharing a golden retriever?

Returning home, Gojo was sitting at the dining room table, playing on his Nintendo Switch before he looked up at the three with starry eyes. Megumi had forgotten Ijichi mentioned Gojo would be home this afternoon.

During the school semesters, Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara would all go live on the college campus they all went to. However, it was summer time, so they all stayed at Megumi’s since Nobara and Itadori really didn’t have any family.

Megumi’s house was expansive thanks to Gojo’s handsome check from being the clan head. Geto’s income also helped a bit, but he mainly ran a nonprofit for disadvantaged children.

Hell, their home was like a nonprofit for disadvantaged children. It felt like the collected orphans like pokemon cards. First Megumi when he was seven, now several college students found refuge in Gojo’s house.

Hell, Junpei was probably an orphan too. They were really trying to catch ‘em all.

“Gumiii~!” Gojo called out to his child by that god awful nickname that Megumi hated. He was eternally grateful that Itadori had landed on calling him ‘Megs’ instead. “How was the movie?” He asked.

Junpei and Itadori had already settled right back on the couch right next to each other, going back and forth about the voice actors for the movie they just watched.

“Outside.” Megumi grumbled as he grabbed his adoptive dad by the collar of his shirt and comedically dragged him backwards until they were in the backyard.

“Why the fuck did you bring him here, and when the fuck is he leaving exactly?” Megumi asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Grouchy.” Gojo laughed, scratching the back of his neck once his son released him. “I guess the movie wasn’t that good, was it?” He asked, clearly just trying to egg the brunette on.

“Gojo.” Megumi’s tone was low and threatening. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Small crescent shapes were likely indented into his skin from how tight his grip was.

“Okay, okay- No need for the government name, Gumi.” Gojo responded with his hands up in a dramatic surrendering expression. “Itadori had mentioned having only one close childhood best friend one time, and I decided that a reunion was very much needed.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. He had really filled out his frame since he was a teenager. He still wasn’t as tall as Gojo, lanky bastard, but he wasn’t as defenseless as he use to be. And he honestly debated fighting his adoptive dad.

“So, anyone can just mention to you about a previous friend, and you’ll go dig them up and fly them out?” He asked in a careful tone. His voice was low and filled with misplaced anger.

Gojo pretended to contemplate Megumi’s question before finally giving a response. “If they give me pretty puppy dog eyes, yes.”

“He begged..?” Megumi’s anger was swiftly forgotten, replaced with shell-shock. Itadori had been so desperate to reconnect with Junpei that he begged Gojo to find him and fly him out..? His stomach coiled from the news, and his face paled.

Gojo chose his next words very carefully. “He said he wondered how Junpei had been getting along, and he missed their long talks about movies.”

It was enough to send Megumi straight to his room, locking the door behind him. He knew he had just been mindlessly jealous thus far today, but this level of self pity was unprecedented.

His long-term crush wasn’t fulfilled enough in his friendship with him. He had to go search out his old childhood best friend likely to rekindle old nostalgic feelings. They got along great. There hadn’t been a moment of silence in the house since Junpei had arrived.

Fuck. The memory of Gojo showing up with Junpei flooded Megumi’s mind. Gojo’s stupid ass had shoved Junpei into a box to make a grand reveal. Megumi was too surprised to notice how Itadori’s eyes gleamed and how he ran straight up to Junpei to envelop his body into a tight hug.

Even now, Gojo was sitting downstairs with Junpei and Itadori as they played a board game. It was sickening to think about.

Maybe… maybe he should just move on from Itadori. There was clearly nothing between them on Itadori’s side. He should take on a few more classes during the fall semester and bury himself in his studies to forget about his crush.

A soft knock at his door had him wiping his face, making sure no residue tears were left behind. “What?” He called out in an unamused tone.

“Don’t what me.” Geto’s calm voice filled the room, and Megumi immediately moved to unlock the door for his other adoptive dad.

Megumi knew better than to pick a fight with Geto as he was the lawmaker in the house, and Gojo would back him all the way to the moon over anything.

“Sorry…” He muttered as he sat back down on his bed, avoiding eye contact with the other male.

“Why are you up here moping? Nanako and Mimiko are even downstairs socializing, and you know how hard it is to get those girls to do anything besides stare at their phones and laugh at each other.” Geto said as he took a seat down on the bed next to Megumi.

Megumi shrugged his shoulders. There was no way he was about to vent out his frustrations right now. He already felt too vulnerable and raw. He didn’t need anyone else knowing what was going on.

Too bad for him, Geto was perceptive as hell. He was always the first to notice when Megumi would go on downward spirals like this… probably because he went through the same thing.

Geto’s episodes were far and few between nowadays, but he still had his days. Gojo had luckily gotten better at picking up on Geto’s warning signs, and he’d always do whatever was necessary to bring his husband back to life.

“You know… I remember I use to hate this girl back in college. She was brash, strong, and had long dark hair that rivaled my own.” Geto said as he looked at his son. He knew without even having to ask. Megumi was clearly stricken with jealousy and grief.

“So?” The brunette asked, giving Geto a raised eyebrow.

“So, Satoru was too touchy with her. He always use to tease her until she went red in the face, and they way he said her name had me plotting her demise. Uttaahimmee~” Geto mocked Gojo’s teasing tone of voice, earning a faint smile out of Megumi.

“We weren’t dating at the time, and I’d say we barely even had a situationship going. I felt like I had no right to be so jealous. I usually tried to play along, until I found myself retracting from what Satoru and I had been building.” He went on, recounting their teenage years fondly.

“I almost let him go, but I decided to give a last ditch effort. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had retracted completely instead of just telling him how I felt? He admitted that he was only acting that way so I’d feel jealous. He thought it’d make me want him more. What an idiot.” He laughed, and Megumi joined in with his own soft laughs.

“Thanks. I know what you’re trying to do..” Megumi said with a soft smile planted on his face. “But I don’t think Itadori is doing this to get a rise out of me.”

“Certainly not. That boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t perhaps like seeing that jealous side of you.” Geto said, raising his eyebrows with suggestion that had Megumi shoving him out of his room with embarrassment. His dads were too cool joking about that stuff with him, even if he was grown now.

After a few moments of reflection, he set forth a plan in his mind before collecting himself mentally. He was going to allow himself to feel jealous without any judgment.

He walked downstairs, and he lingered around the back of the couch as he watched his sisters, Itadori, Junpei, and Gojo all playing some sort of board game.

Itadori and Junpei were nearly on fucking top of each other. It was disgusting. He let out a disgruntled noise of dissatisfaction as he climbed over the couch to sit on Itadori’s other side.

“Hey Megs. I was going to go check on you after this round.” He said as he freed himself away from Junpei.

“It’s fine.” He said as he placed a firm hand over Itadori’s knee. Butterflies once again swarmed his stomach. He really couldn’t touch the other without getting all flustered. He tried to control his breathing, and he forced his voice to be steady. “What are you playing?” He asked.

Itadori noticed the sudden hand on his knee, but he didn’t dare to comment on it. “We’re playing Life.”

“Speaking of which, it’s your turn, Yuji.” Junpei spoke up, interrupting their small interaction.

Megumi glared at Junpei unapologetically until every person in that room felt uncomfortable.

“Actually, I completely forgot. I have a livestream to go watch!” Mimiko said as she hurried out of the living room.

“Me too-“ Nanako added as she chased after her twin sister up the stairs.

“I think I hear Suguru calling for me.” Gojo said with a knowing grin as he leisurely left the living room as well.

“Well…” Junpei muttered lowly as he looked around. “Maybe we can watch another movie, Yuji..?”

Megumi didn’t miss how Junpei clearly didn’t intend on inviting him to their plans. His teeth ground together, but he stayed silent, waiting to see what Itadori’s response would be.

“I… actually need to shower. It’s getting late, and Todo expects me to be in the gym every morning at 5 o’clock sharp.” Itadori said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Good boy. Megumi thought to himself.

“I’ll bring you down some blankets and pillows. Hana’s currently taking up the guest room, but you and I can camp-“ A disapproving growl from Megumi had Itadori quickly rethinking what he was saying. He felt the brunette’s hand tighten around his knee. “You and I can… catch up tomorrow.” He quickly adjusted his words.

“Yeah, sure.. That’s fine.” Junpei nodded as he got comfortable on the couch. Yuji stood up, and Megumi followed along right behind him. It took work to keep the smug expression off his face. He finally fucking won. He was officially a cockblock.

His smug victory was cut short when he was swiftly jerked into the bathroom, and his back was pressed against a wall. The door shut, and the lock clicked into place. Itadori’s hands trapped him in, and he looked up at his tall friend with wide eyes.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you?” Itadori spoke in a voice that was not at all intimidating, but it was more concerning than anything.

“I don’t know what you’re-“ A hand placed firmly under his jaw had Megumi’s heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He secretly hoped Itadori couldn’t hear it.

This was straight out of his fantasies. His friend keeping him still against a wall, forcing his gaze up into his big brown eyes. He had the face of an angel, but his actions spoke to a hidden darkness underneath.

“Don’t lie to me, Megs.” Itadori spoke with a frown. It looked like disappointment on his face, making Megumi feel slightly remorseful for the bold display of jealousy. Though, he wouldn’t have had to do that if Yuji and Junpei weren’t so annoyingly close.

“You’ve been up Junpei’s ass since he got here. It’s like you forgot you have other friends around.” Megumi finally fessed up as he tried to jerk his jaw away from Itadori’s grasp. He only tightened more around his jaw.

“That’s what your mood has been about?” Itadori asked with a laugh. A laugh. Megumi could feel his anger boiling over as if he wanted to explode right then, feeling so invalidated by the guy he had longed for-

His train of thought completely stopped as he felt a pair of lips upon his own. No way was this happening right now. He literally had to look down and check. Yep, Itadori was kissing him right now.

After the smallest moment of hesitancy, Megumi instantly melted into the kiss, looping his arms around Yuji’s neck and swallowing down each and every small noise he made.

The kiss was short, but it was lust-filled on both sides. Itadori was gently panting with a dumb grin on his face as he eyed his best friend. Megumi face had a subtle blush to it, and he was avoiding his gaze.

“Does that make you feel better? I didn’t take you for such a brat, Fushiguro.” Yuji gently teased, squeezing onto Megumi harder as he tried to get out of his grasp.

“What did you just call me?” Megumi asked as he was trying to fight Yuji’s hulking figure. The pink-haired male had supernatural strength that rendered Megumi completely useless against him.

“I’ll let you mark me up if you stop fighting me and forget that I called you a brat.” Yuji bribed with a laugh, and Megumi went completely still in his arms.

“Wherever I want.” He negotiated with a narrow stare.

“Wherever you want and however many it takes for you not to be such a jealous recluse.” Yuji offered.

“Deal.”

*** *** ***

Todo was a loss for words when Yuji walked into the gym the next morning littered in bruises along his neck and collarbones.

Also, no one dared to mention to Megumi that Junpei was actually straight… There was never a battle of the emo boys in Yuji’s heart after all.

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banj0possum · 1 year ago

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Sweet Hero Of Mine

Yandere! Antihero x GN! Hero! Reader

im back little stinkers <333

Edit!! Nsfw mentions removed! Replaced with..Elias being a dork ?

CW: Stalking, Creep behavior, Suggestive talk about reader, slight masochism

🪲 Elias was never into the whole Superhero thing.

🪲 He hated the constant swarming of reporters and fans screaming for his attention. He didn't want to be treated like a celebrity; he just wants to fight crime where people refuse to help.

🪲 That's why he avoided ever displaying himself like that. He preferred to stay in the shadows and kept his deeds out of the picture, but there are always rats scurrying around ready for another big scoop.

🪲 He could only scoff amusingly as he sees his little escapade last night being reported on tv with a blurry photo of him on the rooftops with the words "Mysterious Vigilante Strikes Again!"

🪲 He can admit, seeing them being so absorbed in what he does is pretty entertaining, he can feel his ego go up a bit.

🪲 Soon enough he gets tired of the incessant yap of interviewees talking about him and reaches for the remote.

🪲 His body freezes though when the reporter mentions some 'new hero' and he turns back to the TV.

🪲 His eyes are blessed with the cutest sight of a person dressed in a hero outfit with a logo on their chest. Their warm smile seems to radiate happiness as they talk to the reporter. Is this the new hero they've been talking about recently?

🪲 They ask for their opinion on the vigilante situation and he almost melts over their soft voice.

🪲 "I believe this guy has good intentions. Which is great and all but if it's endangering people and their properties, I think it's time they think about how running around and punching people in a suit isn't being heroic, it's being obnoxious!"

🪲 There goes his ego..

🪲 And perhaps his clean pants..

🪲 He starts researching all about this new hero. Who do they think they are?! This little brat has to be taught a lesson!

🪲 He stalks your social media, every fan account, every news atricl about your deeds, everything.

🪲 For for blackmail of course! Maybe he can find some dirt on you..in this fan account that makes thirst edits of you..

🪲 Soon enough he starts tracking you and your appearances. Every fight with a villain or any burning building with people that need saving, he's there with a high-grade camera that can snap all the rips and tears in your suit...for blackmail!

🪲 He's real happy that he wore a trench coat to your most recent battle or else everyone would have probably seen his growing boner whenever you throw a punch that connected to your opponent.

🪲 He's combing through the photos he took of you and shivers over your sweaty form and aggressive face.

🪲 He imagines meeting you, perhaps having a battle of his own, being pinned down by you, having your arms grappling and squeezing on his body. Perhaps you'd even say something degrading to him with that sweet voice of yours..

🪲 So that's what he does.

🪲 You were doing some last-minute night patrols after a long day of crime fighting and interviews when you hear a deep gravelly voice behind you.

🪲 "Hey there hero~"

🪲 You look back and see a large muscular man in a suit that looked like the armor of some insect.

🪲 "Huh, didn't expect to meet you here vigilante!" I joke.

🪲 "Oh please, call me Beetle~" He smirks as he walks closer to you. God you're even cuter in person..

🪲 "Well, Beetle, you are aware that you're kinda sorta wanted for a lotta stuff right?"

🪲 "Is it worse than the shit those pieces of scum done? Unlike youre pretty little ass I'm actually gettin bad guys off the streets.~" He teases, putting a hand on the wall and leaning close to your face. He's trying not to swoon over your stern face.

🪲 "Unlike you, I'm keeping people safe! Although I do commend your...unique sense of justice.."

🪲 *internal squealing*

🪲 He's a little surprised that you're so nice, unlike some other douchey heroes he knows.

🪲 He lets out a chuckle "That's new..Thanks goody-two-shoes.."

🪲 You give him a teasing face "Hey I'm not that much of an angel!"

🪲 "Oh~? Well o me you are, sweet hero of mine~"

🪲 You two become quick friends, even having missions together.

🪲 His obsession got worse from there.

🪲 Riding in your superhero vehicle, he rarely looks anywhere but at you driving, explaining to him the mission that he barely cares about other than the fact that it's an excuse to be with you.

🪲 Every time you take his hand to lead him somewhere, he makes sure to burn the feeling into his mind. Oftentimes he's the one doing whatever it takes to have physical contact with you, but it's way better whenever you initiate it.

🪲 You love taking pictures together. Of course he never smiles when you take one but when he's back at home, he's staring at it with the biggest, goofiest grin.

🪲 He loves taking pictures too, only he prefers ones with you and you alone. Sometimes it would be things you like so he wouldn't forget.

🪲 You blush, flattered over him remembering your favorite drink.

🪲 He'd memorize anything you say and put it in a top secret file named "My Love"

🪲 Oh my god please degrade him jokingly.

🪲 Bully him, push him around, be playfully rough with him!! Sure it's all in good fun but he's feeding his guilty pleasure whenever you treat him like shit while also being so sweet to him.

🪲 Pull him down suddenly by his suit's collar whenever you want to whisper something to him or show him something, he loves it. Although be warned, he might moan a little..

🪲 He's crazy for you, insane even, bonkers almost!!

🪲 He comes home seeing you in a superhero gala at one of the fanciest buildings in the city.

🪲 The bone-breaking grip on his beer bottle almost cracks the bottle when he sees you being accompanied by some other hero.

🪲 They're being all close with you and making you laugh, he can feel his jealousy rise within his body at the sight of your adorable smile, one that wasn't because of his jokes, his company!

🪲 Maybe it's about time he gives this superhero thing a try..

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months ago

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Murder Clown Gang and Jester Demon Reader- Specifically one that has a tiny human form, and a massive true form. They wear baggy clothes so their clothing doesn't tear when they switch back and forth.

The horny levels of these dorks would be off the scales-

[Blue smashes open the cage Jester Reader was locked in by their victims for the evening. Reader peaks out of their cell, gazing at the bodies of the cultists littering the floor]

Murder Clown (Pink): Ohhh- Bless your poor heart. Come here, little one. We won't hurt you.

Jester Reader: !!! [Squeezes past Pink, tripping over the cuffs of their baggy pants as they attempt to flee]

Murder Clown (Purple): Would ya look at that. They're practically swimming in those clothes.

Murder Clown(Green) - mouth covered in red: Poor thing looks like they're starving. Looks like we're the heros this evening. Hehehe - I don't mind sharing if they could use a bite....

Murder Clown (Orange): The cops will be here any second. Can't one of us just throw them over their shoulder and carry them out?

Murder Clown (Red): Give them a minute. I doubt you'd trust anyone after being stuck in a cage for god knows how long.

Murder Clown (Blue): U-uh....guys?

[Jester Reader rises to their knees, drying their tears on their sleeves as they climb to their feet. A sickening pop! can be heard as one of their arms shoots out of their sleeve. One by one, their limbs grow - the rest of their body rapidly morphing to match. Their once loose fitting clothes stretches tightly around their figure, the button of their collar narrowly missing Orange's eye as it flies off. The entire group stare at the demon - their horns scraping the roof of the basement]

Murder Clown (Purple): ......Dibs.

#Murder Clown Gang #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere #clown reader #Jester reader #yandere text #yandere clown #yandere harem #demon reader

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bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 1 year ago

Note

I’ve been following this blog ever since your first headcannons and I’m in love with your writing. I’ve been DYING for someone to request this but nobody has so I will! Could I request a Yandere Andrew with a willing fem reader? She’s just pretty chill and doesn’t mind Andrew’s possessive and yandere nature and is even willing to cut ties with people because she loves him and genuinely sees nothing wrong with it?

P.S I just love the Ashley and Gabriel ship! I think it’s adorable! I love Gabriel’s design and the pairing looks adorable together! I’m always looking on Tumblr multiple times a day to see if you’ve posted something new.

If you accept, please take your time and have fun! Thank you!

Anon- you are so sweet. Thanks dog <3

totallynotcryingtotallynotcrying—

Yandere!Andrew Graves x Willing Fem!Reader

You can’t remember the last time someone cared about you as much as Andrew did

Someone who would do the things he did just to protect you

Really you couldn’t be luckier

Most women would be terrified to see the dark silhouette of their partner standing outside their window late at night

Not you though, you know he was just making sure you were safe.

You waved to him once, and though it was difficult to see- he waved back

It was endearing how much Andrew cared about your safety

It was sweet how much he noticed about you

Small details that would go overlooked, like the shampoo you used- or the way you held yourself while conveying emotions. He noticed.

Andrew loved you. And you loved him.

“I’m just…worried.” Your friend’s voice felt like the vocal equivalent of chewing cardboard. If it wasn’t for the subject right now, you would’ve tuned her out ages ago. But this concerned you and your life, so you listened, “Like- he’s a stalker Y/N! Straight up stalker! What if he like- wears your skin like a jacket or something.”

“Hm.” You shrugged, “I’m sure he’d sew a lovely jacket then.” A small grin formed on the corners of your mouth as your friend gave an annoyed sigh.

“I’m being serious! He’s obsessed with you!”

“Boyfriends are supposed to be obsessed, aren’t they not?”

“No! Like weirdly obsessed!” You could hear the desperation in her voice, “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’ve been- I’ve been getting letters, voicemails, goddamn post it notes on my desk to stay away from you and they’re all from him. He broke into my house!”

Andrew….did all that?

“Oh my god…” you let out.

“Thank you!”

“Oh my god…he- really must not trust you then.”

“WHAT?!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as your friend yelled into it.

You slowly brought it back to your ear, “Well- yeah? I mean- clearly he doesn’t trust you.”

“Clearly he’s insane!”

Alright- you had enough.

“Look,” you took a breath, trying to remain calm, “If you have a problem with my boyfriend- that’s fine. But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult him.”

“I’m not insulting him I’m—“

“Don’t call me again.” You said flatly, and not a second later hung up the phone.

You should feel awful. You should feel apologetic for what you said. You should consider your friend’s words..

But you didn’t.

It wasn’t like how they thought it was.

That friend, and any others who had something to say could fuck themselves over it

It was hard every time you had to do it

But Andrew- bless his soul- always comforted you

Hell, sometimes he even did it for you cause he knew how difficult they could be

He’s so sweet

Still would make them call, but you slowly blocked out the incessant sound of the phone’s ringing

When one of those conversations would bring you down, Andrew would be right there to lift your spirits

Andrew’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs trying to lift the corner of your mouth into a smile. The more he did it, the more it amused you- causing an actual smile to stay.

“There we go.” His head tilted a little as he gave you a small smile of his own, “Much better.”

“You’re a dork.” You buried your face into his chest, sighing happily as the familiar feeling of his hands stroking your hair.

“I’m your dork.” He hummed, “And I like your smile. So you better keep it, or I’ll carve it on to you.”

“Awwww, is that a promise?” You tilted your head up to look into his pale green eyes, your chin rested against his chest.

He nodded, “Mhm! Now C’mere.”

He leaned his head down, kissing you softly. You returned the kiss, reaching your arms up and wrapping them around his neck to hold him there. Not like he’d pull away, but as a measure for yourself more than anything.

For all the “warnings”

All the “concern” people gave your relationship with Andrew Graves

You didn’t care

You loved him

You loved his fucked up ways of affection

His twisted form of love

And he loved you back, tenfold

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #tcoaal #andrew graves x reader #x reader #genuinely this ask warmed my heart #I’m glad people like Gabriel and my dumb shit

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rongloa · 4 days ago

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𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧) — m. grayson drabble

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. nerdy!mark grayson x fem country!reader

𝐰𝐜. 700

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. nsfw (at the end), fem!reader, swearing, southern ladies unite, mark may be ooc but leave me be, bad country accent spellings, it’s not the best i’m sorry babes

𝐚/𝐧. you literally hit so close to home with this one anon cause i’m a country girlllll (from australia but shhhh). there needs to be way more fics with buff, leading reader. i could pick mark up like he was nothin’ on god.

You’re used to the way folks look at you.

Not ‘cause you’re pretty—though you are, and you ain’t about to be modest about it—but because you’re loud. You take up space. Talk with your hands. Walk like the pavement owes you rent. You got a drawl thicker than molasses and you don’t apologize for wearin’ boots that clack like shotgun shells falling in the school hallway.

You’re a Southern girl through and through—grew up stringin’ barbed wire and racin’ four-wheelers through cotton fields while barefoot in the mud. You’ve shoved a cow back into the chute with your foot. You’ve climbed hay bales in your church dress and you once chased off a copperhead with a tire iron. Your mama calls you a force of nature and your daddy used to say, “That girl ain’t got no brakes, only gas.”

Which is exactly what Mark Grayson likes about you.

You’ve been together for five months now. He’s still awkward. Still blushes when you sit in his lap or stretch in front of him. Still turns red when you make dirty jokes in public and call him sugar in front of his mom and dad.

He’s the kind of boy you never thought you’d fall for—quiet, polite, so sweet he makes your teeth ache. You’re a wild child with boots and bruised knuckles and an accent that makes everything sound either sexy or dangerous, and he’s the dork who still reads comics in bed and says things like “gosh.”

But you adore him.

You adore the way he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world. The way he stares like he can’t believe you’d ever look back.

────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

It’s a Tuesday when he shows up at your apartment window, hovering like a hummingbird with that damn adorable half-smile.

You’re in the kitchen, barefoot in jeans and a tank top, fryin’ bacon with the window cracked open and some Dolly Parton spillin’ soft out of the speaker.

You look up from the sizzling oil and meat and holler, “That you, baby?”

His voice comes through sheepish and tinny. “Uh, yeah. Sorry—window was open.”

You laugh and wave him in. “Ain’t like I locked it. You want breakfast or a kiss first?”

Mark stumbles through the window, nearly trips over your boots, and mumbles, “Uh. Can I have both?”

You wipe your hands and pull him in for a kiss that melts him right down to the toes. He tastes like wind and sun and that awful sports drink he loves.

“Howdy, city boy,” you whisper against his lips. “You’re lucky I don’t make you wrangle a pig to earn your keep ‘round here.”

“Can I wrangle… like… pancakes instead?”

You snort, “You would be the kind of man who gets outta chores with sweet talk.”

────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You knew he was really yours when he started keeping a toothbrush at your place.

It wasn’t even a conversation. One day it just showed up, sittin’ in your cup beside your bright pink one like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

You’d catch him makin’ coffee in your kitchen, wearing one of your old flannel shirts—unbuttoned, boxers peekin’ out beneath the hem—and you’d just stand there in the doorway, barefoot, arms crossed, watchin’.

“Y’know,” you drawled one morning, “you do domestic real good for a boy who flies around punchin’ aliens.”

He gave you a sheepish smile. “You think I look good doing dishes, wait till you see me fold laundry.”

“Baby,” you said, walking over and grabbing him by the collar, “if you fold fitted sheets, I might have to marry you.”

He never folded ‘em right, bless his heart. But he tried. And that was what mattered.

────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

There were lazy Sundays when y’all didn’t leave the couch—his legs slung across yours, your feet propped on the coffee table. Reruns of old sitcoms playin’ low. You’d run fingers through his hair, braid a little strand behind his ear just to see how long it took him to notice.

There were school days when you’d find him waitin’ outside your class, lunch in hand, like some lovesick fool. He’d pack yours with dumb little notes: “You’re hotter than ghost peppers.” “I’d let you run me over with your truck.” “I miss you when you’re in the same room.”

You pretended to gag every time you read one.

But you kept them all in a shoebox under your bed.

Your world is loud. Messy. Full of fight and fire and dirt under the nails. His world is broken buildings, near-death escapes, heavy burdens he never asked for. But somehow, the two of you work. Which is practically impossible but it reminds you of your ma and pops.

When he comes home bloody, you patch him up. When you scream at the TV during rodeo reruns, he brings you popcorn. When he forgets to call ‘cause he’s saving the planet, you cuss him out and kiss him twice as hard the second he comes back.

You argue like fire and wind. Make up like thunder and rain.

You are chaos and softness and passion.

He is calm and nerves and heart.

You ride shotgun in his life like you’re in a rusted Chevy, boots on the dash, windows down, your voice loud and twangy over the radio.

And he lets you.

Because Mark Grayson fell in love with the wildest thing that ever walked into his city.

────── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ BONUS!! SLIGHT NSFW AHEAD

The first time you really got there—past the kissing, the teasing, the hot-and-heavy groping—you’d been alone in your room, the sun hanging low, turning everything honey-colored.

You’d been straddling him on the couch, still in your jeans, boots placed beside the front door like you’d always been taught. A clean house, is a good one.

Mark was breathin’ like he just ran a mile. All red-faced and trembling under you, hands on your waist like he didn’t know what to do with ‘em. Your lips were shiny from kissing, his hair all tousled from your fingers.

“You okay?” You murmur it against the collarbone you were just thumbing, little nips littering tanned skin.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Really okay.”

You kissed his jaw, slow and syrupy, thumb dragging along his collarbone. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

His voice cracked. “Please don’t.”

That boy. You could’ve melted.

You undid your shirt one button at a time, letting his eyes trail every inch of skin you expose. You could feel his hands twitch against your thighs, tryin’ not to grab too hard, like you were something fragile.

“You ain’t gonna break me,” It comes out as more of a huff, guiding his hands up under your shirt.

He let out the softest little sound when you pressed his palm to your breast, groping at you a little too rough— nothing you couldn’t handle though.

You rolled your hips just slightly and his whole body arched. It lit a fire in you—made you want to tease, to coax every little sound outta him until he was beggin’. Give him a run in the round pen with a bit between those pearly whites.

“You ever been with a girl, baby?”

He shook his head.

You grinned something you could only imagine resembled the devil. “Then I’m gonna ruin you.”

And you did ruin him, in the softest, slowest way possible.

You kissed every inch of him like he was a map you’d been studyin’ for years. Told him what you liked. Listened when he told you. You didn’t rush. You let the tension simmer until you were breathless and tangled, a mess of limbs and low moans, bodies moving like they’d been meant for each other all along.

He whispered your name like a prayer when he came—fingers clutchin’ your hips, teeth sunken into your shoulder, heart beatin’ against yours like a damn drumline.

After, he held you so tight you thought he might never let go.

You stroked the loose strands of raven hair out of your way just to kiss his temple, whispering, “Still breathin’, baby?”

“Barely,” he mumbled. “I think I saw God.”

You laughed so hard you nearly cried.

And just like that, it became your world: lazy mornings and snuck kisses at school, hands on thighs under cafeteria tables, boots on dashboards during midnight drives, his sweaters smellin’ like your perfume.

You, callused hands and wild heart, and Mark, sweet and shaken and so, so full of love for you he could barely speak it sometimes.

But you didn’t need him to.

You already knew.

And every time he touched you like you were the only thing tetherin’ him to the Earth, you knew you’d never need the ranch again.

Not when you had this.

Not when you had him.

#invincible fanfic #invincible mark grayson #mark grayson x fem!reader #invincible #invincible x you #drabble

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pileofmush · 9 months ago

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blue raspberry, red sun ୧ ‧₊˚

ft. monkey d. luffy

hello! this is an entry for the lovely @threadbaresweater's summertime (and the livin' is easy) event! haven't written for luffy in a while but i missed him, so.

details ➸ tags: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff, no plot just vibes // cw: gn!reader, mc is implied to have cleavage // wc: 1.3k // ao3

“how can you fuck up eating a popsicle that bad?” you ask, eyes wide at the straight-up murder scene before you. your own ice cream cone sits pristine in your hands—vanilla with a waffle cone. cute, contained, simple.

you’re sitting on a curb in the middle of who knows where. the sun is particularly vengeful today: bright, hot, loud. it chases away all the shadows and beams down on you like you called it’s mother a whore. sweat pools between your thighs; concrete digs into your ass. you’re afraid that when you stand up there’ll be a sweat-stained print on the sidewalk, free for everyone to see.

your boyfriend shrugs, messy raven hair falling over his tan, toned shoulders. “dunno,” luffy says blandly. he licks his hand in one long stripe like a heathen and hums. “it’s good—wanna taste?”

you balk at the suggestion. “no, don’t—!”

too late.

🍓 .・゜-: ✧ :-

you can catalogue the days spent with luffy during a week by the amount of damage done to your closet.

the pretty pale pink blouse you thrifted a few months ago—the one with the lace trim that shows off the perfect amount of cleavage—tossed in the hamper with thoughts and prayers thanks to the gigantic-ass stain luffy blessed you with last wednesday.

(you should’ve seen it coming, really, neon blue sludge dripping from his sun-speckled fingers with reckless abandon near moments before he grabbed you by the waist to bring you in for a sloppy, tart kiss. it was quick and bright, an explosion of blue raspberry, before he pulled away as quickly as he initiated the kiss. he wiped his mouth with a lazy flick of his hand, then grinned a proud, dopey grin, teeth glinting in the sunlight.

you remember feeling dizzy and warm, baked in the sun and your love and the sheer aura your boyfriend possessed.

“tastes good, right?” he asked.

your eyes caught his flash of tongue as he spoke, tongue stained blue.

“yeah,” you agreed quietly, reverently. “tastes good.”)

then there was the trip to the beach a few days ago that luffy suggested, which… alright, maybe you can’t blame him for getting sand all over you at the beach.

(and really, it was a nice trip. you and the straw-hats all packed into franky’s van like a baby soccer team getting driven to their first game. windows down, luffy happily chewing on a sandwich you packed him, nami rattling off directions like it’s her day job, brook belting 2000’s pop. and then, the lot of you spilling out and ambling to the beach. sunscreen slathered on every inch of your skin. the feel of hot wind and sand in between your toes, the salty tang of the sea on your tongue, and your hand in luffy’s, always, as he drags you across the beach with glee.)

but still. luffy brought home a slimy strand of seaweed to prank you with, and it somehow found its way into your underwear drawer. 'no, he did not put it there', let him tell it. you had to resist beating him with a slipper. gosh, he’s such a dork.

so, yeah. dating luffy definitely means more frequent loads of laundry, but it’s fine. it really is. s’not like you didn’t know what you were getting into. s’not like you mind any traces of luffy you can get.

luffy seems the type to be born in the summer.

he’s not- he wasn’t. a spring baby through and through, to your initial surprise. and sure, there’s probably something poetic you could say about blossoms and rebirth and fresh starts, but really, luffy reminds you of the hot, everlasting summer. he’s practically the sun incarnate. could’ve been a sun god in another life, for all you know, because his touch is so hot, hot, hot, and his laugh is crude and bright, and he is the only person you know to not wilt under the full force of the sun. instead, he feeds off of it. it gives him life, vigor, sustenance.

you used to dread the summertime. now, it’s your favorite season.

so when luffy pops over with a blanket and a basket, you don’t need to think too hard to throw in a couple of (okay, several) sandwiches and some leftover fruit.

you decide on a quaint spot at a nearby park. the two of you walk side by side underneath the orange light of the dying sun. it’s a cooler evening. the grass next to your feet bristle; trees dance in the gentle breeze. the endless drone of the cicadas meshes with luffy’s rambling about his latest outing with ace and sabo—apparently, it ended in a fire—and you sneak a few glances at him. luffy’s skin is a rich, warm gold. underneath the last few embers of day, the sky soaked in warm oranges, pinks, and a devastating purple, you find traces of its colors reflected on his skin.

and luffy is loud, loud, loud, but he is also quiet. and underneath the weight of the sky, you feel incredibly lucky to be a part of his life.

his hand, looped lazily around your free wrist, snakes down to intertwine with your fingers.

“what is it?” he interrupts his spiel with a sudden question.

your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip as you consider your response. “it’s nothing.” you pause. parse through your emotions and will them to become coherent thoughts. “i guess i just missed you.”

slowly, he drags the two of you to a stop. he tugs on your hand, a reminder, even as he blinks in confusion.

“i’m right here,” he says, solemn.

“i know.”

a beat.

“you don’t have to miss me. i’m already yours.”

and, he’s right. like a sun rising above the horizon after a night plunged in the dark, he returns to you, again and again.

“i know that.” in a stroke of luffy-branded honesty, you admit to him with a shrug, “but i don’t think i’ll ever stop missing you.”

it is not a bad thing. not a bad thing at all. just another way to say i love you. perhaps the only way you can say it, right now.

luffy stares at you for a while and then releases an uncharacteristic sigh. he takes the picnic basket out of your hands and lets it drop in the grass, along with the blanket he was carrying. then, without warning, your boyfriend tackles you to the ground.

you barely even register it, he breaks your fall so gently, and then he’s clambering over you, long arms pressing you into the soil, long tendrils of grass tickling your skin, and you’re thinking about the dirt undoubtedly ruining yet another shirt of yours as he clumsily lowers his mouth to yours. he smells like grass and sunscreen and maybe a little bit of sweat, and tastes a bit like koolaid. but all you can register is him, the ever-present heat radiating off his body, the nimble fingers digging into your skin almost brutally, the clink of his teeth against yours. hot and sloppy and luffy, luffy, luffy.

you kiss until you can’t breathe, until you breathe fire, until your head is spinning and you can think no more.

then, he rolls off of you. the two of you pant: you, content to remain a puddle on the ground, him, leaning back on his arms. still close, though. still above you, dark eyes roaming over your form intently, tracking your every flutter.

it’s quiet, save for the cicadas. soundtrack of the summer.

you sit up and try to pat yourself off. it’s probably useless. you know there’ll be nasty grass stains on your back when you get back home. ah, well. can't be helped.

“i get it,” luffy says, eventually. after you’ve both caught your breath. he runs a finger down your leg, tracing inexplicable patterns into your skin. “i miss you too.”

oh, how silly it is, to be in love.

“i know,” you say, cheekily.

he relaxes. “good.” luffy reaches up to pat your head.

you bat his hand away.

he tosses you a toothy smile.

you catch it.

this was v fun to write. hope u liked reading it <3

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #m.luffy #m.op #battle scarred;

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