#honestly he seemed pretty happy to be rid of it

[wewringmagicfromtheordinary]

· anti tfatws · this show is so unfurtaing it's like ragebait; it did to sam fans what cacw did to tony stans · skipped right over bucky's history like he doesn't even fucking exist · (diversity win! your white character is receiving the black man's historical experience! but... nobody black notices?? 😕) · no guys you don't understand that white woman was MILDLY INCONVENIENCED 😭 she had to be a WEALTHY CRIMINAL! · how dare you not prioritise her suffering over bucky's right after we hint at this other white woman raping him!! · here's a wild fucking idea maybe return the shield to the wakandans? or just don't accept it and go back on your word in the first place! · you know howard didn't come by that vibranium honestly · steve gave it to t'challa in the comics and t'challa iirc let him keep it · weird fetish fixation on the shield like guys you realise steve never gaf about that thing right?? have you ever watched a cap film? via amarriageoftrueminds

Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through, and Negal referring to the ‘American test subject’ like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to be steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal?

[allfearstofallto]

Always Under Skin, Even When it Gets Removed

Yandere! Childe x Reader

Part of {Mai Playlist}

Childe was a nuisance. Persistent. A vermin. Childe was a pest. Like an infestation of roaches, you could do everything in your power to get rid of him, but he'd still be somewhere nearby. Determination was one of his strongest traits, and he was determined to ruin you.

Being married to him was never in your cards and if you could've never met him at all, you would've been happy. Yet for almost a year, you were forced to be his doting wife. Only managing to steal yourself away after months of planning and a few close calls. The taste of free air, even if it was the air of Snezhnaya, was the best thing on your tongue, better than even your favorite food cooked to perfection.

You didn't think you'd live the life of a nomad, but it seemed easier. Paranoia was second nature to you now, and staying in one place seemed dangerous. He could be anywhere, around any corner, close by, but not showing himself until he knew it would fuck you over. Was living life on the road considered freedom? You didn't know, but anything would be better than another day with Childe.

“How far will this take me?” You held up a good ring to a carriage driver, making sure to keep your face covered beneath your hood. You took a lot when you left, mostly jewelry, things that were small and expensive.

He eyes the ring over before dropping it back into the palm of your hand, “It'll get you pretty far, but where are you even trying to go?”

“Anywhere is fine,” you said quickly.

The man helped you up into the back of his wagon, where he kept his wares. Mostly agricultural things, fresh produce and hay. It wasn't the best place you'd ridden before, but it was far from being the worst.

You understood why people were weary of you. You weren't making much of an effort to not come off as strange, but you weren't out to make friends. The wagon swayed as the sun began to set over the horizon, he didn't tell you how long he'd be driving and quite honestly, you didn't care. At the next port, you'd stow yourself away onto some other vehicle, never stopping, not even for a breath.

You let your head rest back against the hard wooden wall, you let your arms fall to your side, you let the movement of the wagon sway you to sleep. Morning would come and you'd be awoken by the well-known feeling of the carriage lurching to a stop and sunlight beaming through the cracks in the wall. Outside sounded like a bustling city, although you didn't know where, quite honestly it didn't matter.

“It's back here, sir,” you heard the voice of the carriage driver say as you watched shadows fall over the doorway. You can recognize Childe. Recognize his smell, his voice, a strand of his hair if you were to find one, and most importantly, you could recognize his footsteps. Slow, drawn out, and precise. Your blood went cold, noticing that the driver wasn't walking alone.

The door was slammed open and before you could even make a break for it, cold metal was pressed to your neck. Sharp enough to slice your head right off your body if you made any sudden moves, you could already feel the steel biting into your skin.

“Already running away again?” You didn't even want to look at him, but he used the tip of his blade to tilt your head up. Still wearing a smile as he looked down upon you, “I will admit, I'm proud of you. You managed to stay away longer than I expected,” the blade pushed a lot harder into your neck, “I missed you, my angel.”

You could say nothing as he took you by the hand, pulling you from the cart and onto the ground. You weren't treated gently, not when he was angry. His anger was a menace to deal with. The bigger the smile, the words his rage, and he looked practically elated to see you.

“You took everything, but this,” he tossed your wedding band down, it fell onto your body and landed on your thighs. The ring was warm, like he'd been clutching it in his hand. Knowing him, he probably hadn't let it go since he discovered you were gone.

Without much of an argument, you slipped the ring back on your finger. The small band felt more like a shackle, than something meant to adorn your body. With it, your taste of delicious, true freedom was ripped from your mouth almost as quickly as you'd gotten it. But you'd never get to taste it again.

Childe was all smiles and laughter as he helped you into his own carriage. That smile not reaching his dead, hollow eyes. The ride to Snezhnaya would be a long one, you wonder how long he could contain his anger till then?

[emphistic]

Teenage Dream

<- series m.list

“I honestly do not get why you’re so worked up on this. What’s so wrong about dating someone who does not like macaroni and cheese?” asked Sukuna, raising a brow as he popped a potato chip into his mouth.

“It’s not that. I just—I want to have a successful relationship with someone who likes mac and cheese as much as I do. Conflict of interests, I guess, but is that really so ridiculous?”

“Conflict of interests is more reasonable, now that you put it that way, but over macaroni and cheese? Seriously?”

Sukuna wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. It’s, without a doubt, a conclusion beyond silly. But, after so many hardships, you’ve finally come to realize that you’ll probably never be able to date a guy who likes macaroni and cheese. Every relationship you’ve had has always been with someone that either hated macaroni and cheese, or was lactose intolerant; no in between. 

At first, it was just a mere coincidence. But after so many instances, you end up thinking you’re cursed, and find yourself consulting with your childhood best friend, Sukuna Ryomen.

You frowned, lowering your gaze. “My parents taught me how to make homemade macaroni and cheese, you should already know that. We always made it together at least once a year, and it’s one of my favorite memories. But, after moving out, I don’t have time to visit them anymore. I remember seeing how happy both my mom and dad were whenever they cooked together. So, my dream has always been to make macaroni and cheese with someone I love, as well. It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life.”

You fully expected Sukuna to laugh in your face, but he didn’t. When you looked up, you could even see a faint smile on his lips, before he turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“That’s kinda deep coming from you.”

“Is that really all you have to say? I just dumped out a part of my life that I’ve never told anyone else and you decide to—”

“Then again, you do realize Yuuji likes macaroni and cheese, right? Why don’t you just date him? I mean, we all grew up together, and you two are pretty close in age.” Sukuna shrugged, picking up his glass of water to take a sip.

You snorted, waving a hand to dismiss the impossible idea. “He’s like a brother to me. But . . . now that you mention it. . . What do you think about macaroni and cheese?”

Sukuna—understanding the second meaning of your question—spit out his drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before turning to you. You didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks. “I didn’t hear that last part,” he cleared his throat, “what did you say?”

“Do you like macaroni and cheese?” You repeated yourself.

“It’s okay—” said Sukuna, but you didn’t hear it.

“‘Cause if you did, I think I know a way to get rid of my curse! We can start dating, and after having a pretty successful relationship, we can go back to what we are now, and then, boom!—my curse is lifted, and I can finally date other people who like macaroni and cheese.”

With every sentence that you spoke, Sukuna’s jaw seemed to drop lower and lower. “How did you even think of that?”

“COVID-19, of course!” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Natural immunity or something like that. Your immune system produces antibodies to fight off a germ, and if you’re exposed to that germ again in the future, your body’s defenses will be able to recognize it and fight it off with antibodies, making you less likely to get infected again.”

“And this correlates to your situation because?”

You paused, before looking back at Sukuna. “Not important, but anyway, do you like macaroni and cheese? Yes or no?”

Sukuna blinked, before looking as if he was considering the pros and cons of replying. As if he had anything to lose, you thought.

“Yeah. I love macaroni and cheese, actually. I used to have it all the time back then.”

Your eyes widened, and your smile grew. “That’s—that’s great! So, uhm,” you paused, “do you want to do this?”

“Do I want to date—I mean, get into a fake relationship with you? Let me think.” Sukuna put a pointer finger and thumb on his chin, pretending to weigh his options. “What’s in it for me?”

Now this is what had you stumped. You hadn’t thought of that yet; throughout your whole thought process, you were only thinking of yourself. And, there really was nothing about this arrangement that could benefit Sukuna. The relationship was for your sake, not his. But maybe. . .

“You’ll have a girlfriend?” you proposed. “I can, like, cheer for you at your basketball games, and stuff.”

“We go to the same school; you already do that.”

“Right. . . Oh! I can make you mac and cheese whenever you want?”

“Pass.”

You chewed your lip trying to come up with a good enough reason. “. . .I always have the best hors d’oeuvres?”

“Not important.”

“Err, you can just do this for me out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Kindness of my heart? I wouldn’t put it that way, but go on.”

“I mean, we’re friends and all, right? You can think of this as a mere favor; and I’ll repay you by inviting you to my wedding when I finally marry someone who loves macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna furrowed his brows, looking conflicted at hearing that last part, before finally agreeing to your proposition. “Okay, this is just a favor. Sure, I’ll do it.”

It took you a second to fully register what Sukuna said, but when you did, you set your iced tea down on the table beside you, and, nearly jumping out of your seat, threw your arms around Sukuna, trapping him in the tightest hug you had ever given to anyone. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

His voice came soon after, muffled, but you could still tell Sukuna said something along the lines of “you’re welcome” and “you’re crushing me, brat”. But you completely dismissed that last part.

You laughed at Sukuna as he continued to grumble unintelligible complaints about how he heard his bones crack under your embrace. “So grumpy. This is totally a time to celebrate.”

“It’s really not.”

“Don’t be silly. I mean, I’m gonna be able to finally date someone who likes macaroni and cheese. We should totally go out for drinks tonight!”

Sukuna shrugged, giving in. “Only if you’re paying.”

“I would agree, but is that really something a good boyfriend would say to his girlfriend? Making her pay?”

You could practically hear Sukuna’s eye roll from behind you as you turned around to grab your phone from your bag.

“What’re you doing now? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for our date?” Sukuna said the word with unfamiliarity. Yeah, you had a long way to go before you would get used to the fact that you were in a relationship with the man currently sitting in your apartment.

“In a sec. I’m just making sure I don’t lose my Duolingo streak.”

“Right now? Fuckin’ weirdo,” said Sukuna, as he sat up from his spot on the sofa. “Tell me when you’re ready; I’m gonna take a shit.”

Nodding, you said, “Roger that.”

“. . .Do not ever say that cringey shit to me ever again, or I’ll break up with you.”

You laughed at that last part. The threat seemed more humorous than it should’ve; perhaps it was the unconventional spirit of your relationship.

When you two were kids, you and Sukuna would frequently hang out at each other’s houses and play-fight until the sun would go down, and his grandpa would scold you both for making a mess of the house. It was a bright and colorful time of Sukuna’s life. And, after having known you since childhood, Sukuna grew pretty familiar with your outgoing personality and general craziness.

But, with that being said, Sukuna was beyond taken aback when you brought up the idea of being cursed. You? Cursed? In this decade? This was real life, not some dystopian book. Sukuna thought you were bordering the line between sane and insane when you further explained your current predicament to him.

So, just because you couldn’t find a suitable lover who liked macaroni and cheese, you thought you were doomed for life? Sukuna almost laughed out loud when you expressed how serious you were.

“It’s not funny!” you told him, but he couldn’t have thought you were being more ridiculous.

And when you brought up your idea on how to get rid of your “curse”, Sukuna was planning on telling you how silly you were being, but all thought of that immediately died down in his throat when you mentioned a possible relationship with him. 

What do you mean Sukuna had an opportunity to get into a relationship with you? As in, he could be your boyfriend? It was like the gates of Heaven had opened up right before him, and were offering eternal paradise to him.

Then again, it was only an act. A fake relationship. But, nevertheless, Sukuna would take all that was given to him; he always did.

-

“You know, Sukuna, I’m really grateful for you for doing this. I mean, it might be a little weird to act like we’re dating and all, but it can’t be that bad, right? We’re already friends; dating couldn’t possibly be so different?” you suggested.

Sukuna took a sip of his drink, “Dunno. I’m not usually friends with my girlfriends.”

“Really?” you leaned in closer to the conversation. “So you mean you don’t, like. . . Never mind. How do you even get girlfriends, then? I usually meet people through a mutual friend, and then we get to know each other, become friends ourselves, and—”

Sukuna cut you off, “I don’t think you really get what I’m saying here. Besides, I’m not here for advice on how to meet potential girlfriends. I think I’m pretty experienced in that department.”

You laughed, “But, really, thanks for doing this for me.” 

Smiling, you placed a hand over Sukuna’s, which was resting on the table. He looked a bit tense at the action, but he didn’t push you away.

“It’s what friends do, right?

You hummed, averting your gaze elsewhere. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure this counts as our first date.”

“Huh,” Sukuna agreed. “Kind of boring, I gotta say. I mean, going out for drinks at a bar? Not a very romantic scenario.”

“Still, isn’t this exciting either way—?”

“I think I know a way to make this evening more exciting,” a cool voice cut you off midway. “Mind if we join you?”

You knew that voice. When you turned around, you were met with the face of. . .

[shanastoryteller]

happy winter time! naruto, dealer's choice. thank you!

a continuation of 1

Sakura is terrified that she’s going to mess this up.

Naruto’s never been mean to her, and has complimented her hair several times, but they’re not really friends. Back when she was friends with Ino, she’d see her at the Yamanaka compound sometimes and they’d play together, but she doubts Naruto remembers that.

Sakura doesn’t think she and Sasuke have ever had an actual conversation. He used to be the center of all their competitive crushes, to his hilarious dismay, but then he got betrothed to Naruto and no one was willing to piss off the hokage’s daughter by flirting with her fiance.

Well, besides Ino, but everyone knows she does it just because Sasuke hates it and Naruto feels duty bound to defend him.

Also because Shikamaru ended up taking Sasuke’s place as Cutest (and Available) Boy and Ino would rather stab herself in the eye than bat her eyelashes at Shikamaru, even if that means there’s a social game she can’t win.

Sakura's on a team with son of the Uchiha clan head and the hokage’s daughter, Rookie of the Year and Top Kunoichi, and their sensei isn’t even some normal jounin, but the Inuzuka clan head.

Tsume-sensei seems dismayed when they pass, although Sakura thinks she should have expected this. Naruto and Sasuke have been working as a team for even longer than they’ve been engaged.

Maybe she’s just surprised that they folded Sakura in with them instead of leaving her behind. Honestly, she’s pretty surprised by that too.

“Does this mean we get a dog?” Naruto asks brightly as Sasuke picks twigs out of her hair. “Mom says I only get one pet and doesn’t believe me that the frog doesn’t count.”

“No,” Tsume-sensei snaps, then, “Maybe, I don’t know. I hadn’t actually expected that I’d have to train you, fuck.”

Sakura can’t see this going well.

~

Naruto walks home with Sasuke, because her mother is working late to avoid her father and her father is working late to avoid the fact that her mother is working late to avoid him.

She wishes they’d just get a divorce. Maybe they will now that she’s legally an adult. Maybe she’ll move out and take herself out of the equation.

She won’t. But she thinks about it a lot.

“Maybe it’s good that it’s Tsume,” she says. “Sakura’s biggest weakness is her conditioning and you know that Tsume will train us into the dirt.”

Sasuke hums. “Maybe we should introduce her to Gai.”

She stares. “Do you hate Sakura?”

“She’s fine,” he says dismissively. “It’s too bad we didn’t get Hinata, but both my father and hers would have thrown a fit and gone to complain to yours. He’s the best at taijutsu, if she joins Team Nine’s morning workouts then she’ll be up to par in no time.”

“If it doesn’t kill her,” Naruto says dryly. “Why don’t we see what Tsume cooks up first, yeah? The first chunin exam is months away. She has time.”

“How do you know Tsume will sign us up for that one?” he asks, although by the glint in his eye he already knows.

Naruto answers anyway. “Tsume is going to take the first opportunity to get rid of us that she can, which would be the chunin exams. She’ll be praying for us to either pass or die.”

He laughs, a breathy sound that wouldn’t qualify coming from anyone else.

They arrive at the Uchiha compound and she stares at it wistfully. After helping uncover the almost betrayal, every Uchiha is nice to her now. The compound is so warm and bright and everyone is happy to see her and there’s always somewhere she can go.

“You can join me,” Sasuke says. “Mom always makes extra.”

Just in case she shows up.

“They’ll be expecting me to be home after the test,” she says, trying not to sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sasuke nods, a pinched look on his face that she pretends not to notice.

When they get married, she hopes they live in the compound.

[bachibabe]

— Heaven

synopsis: choso never expected spring break to be so difficult, honestly. just a few weeks to relax with his brother and his brothers girlfriend… it sounds like the dream doesn’t it? seeing his brother happy, so in love with you. but heaven for one is hell for another-- and it seems to be your very life goal to make him live with both.

✧*̣̩┊: choso x fem! reader (some itadori x fem! reader)

✧*̣̩┊: wc: 7.0k

✧*̣̩┊: content: dubious consent at times, cnc + full consent at others, switch! reader,switch!choso, dom!reader, sub!choso, nipple play, voyeurism (choso listens to itadori and reader have sex), m!masturbation, pervert choso, massages, blowjob, p in v, overstimulation, multiple creampies, choso is kinda gross, cheating!reader (as far as choso knows), choso is refered to as puppy/cocktoy, degredation (choso receiving), choso degrading himself too, please lmk if I missed any!

✧*̣̩┊: notes: it’s lily! back again with another perverted jjk man! this turned out way longer than i originally thought it was going to be. originally it was just going to end with the masturbation scene buuutttt i got a little carried away :DD i love how this fic came out and i hope you guys do too <33

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

God, he wants to die. He deserves to. Choso has no right to live after the way he’s been looking at his brother’spretty little girlfriend. He deserves to be jailed for life, eyes gouged out for even considering sending a glance to your ass; bent over grabbing something from a cabinet in the kitchen. Leggings that are too tight, practically transparent. He swears he can see the tinge of your pink panties through them.

He should die. He places his face in his hands, arms propped up as his legs. One of them bouncing in, fuck, he doesn’t know what. Really doesn't know what. He doesn’t think he wants to, honestly. God how did it end up like this? How did he end up here– Itadori perched up on the counter, while you start to work on breakfast. How is he going to make it out alive? How is he going to survive spring break?

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. When Itadori, his dear, beloved brother called, asking if it was fine to bring his girlfriend home for break, Choso thought nothing of it. Even if he hadn’t met you, Itadori told him plenty. Every conversation he had with his sibling always found itself filled with fond stories of you. The nice date you went on, the delicious food you cooked for him. How horribly you destroyed the poor guy in mario kart. He thought he already knew you— it felt like he did at least.

He could tell the moment you walked into their family home that he didn’t. He had no clue the woman you were. A problem he would never be able to rectify. How terrifying that was for poor Choso. Can you imagine? Your little sweater crop top, unzipped low to put your perfect, pretty breasts on display. Your jeans, fitting just so right around your hips, practically putting your ass centre stage for the world to witness.

He hits his forehead with his hands a few times, trying to get rid of the image of your lips. They were in a pout, gloss on them as your jut out your bottom lip. You kissed his cheeks. Held both of your tiny hands around one of his large ones. 

“Thank you for letting me stay Choso, you’re the best big brother to Itadori ever!” Your voice rang so pretty, shiny, new in his ear drums. A sound he had never heard before invading his senses for the first time. He simply nodded his head, hugging his brother after you took a step back. Introductions were fast, Itadori dragging you off to give you a tour of their family home. It was probably to his benefit, to get you away like that. He didn’t know how long he could hold back the colour rising to his cheeks.

You were beautiful, gorgeous, even. Any adjective in the world to describe your beauty, he would use it. But that would never be enough to make a man like him crack. One with morals, one with some shred of pride. While the interaction left him slightly flustered, he quickly brushed it off of his shoulder. It shouldn’t matter anyway. 

Only it does when you’ve positioned yourself between his legs, tongue between your lip as you put your all into the game of mario kart against the two men. 

“I can’t see the tv from up here!” Your peach voice whined after your second loss in a row. “I’m more comfortable on the floor anyway.” You tell them, a slight pout on your lips. 

“You’re such a sore loser!” Itadori laughs, teasing as you slide yourself onto the floor. Right in front of Choso’s place on the couch. He looks down, eyes increasing in size only a fraction as your frame is incased by either side of his legs. His eyebrows raise, legs shifting farther apart as to not touch you. He wants to be respectful, afterall. 

“Uhg! As if!” You shoot back, a small glare landing on Itadori. Though Choso can tell none of it is serious. Suddenly, before he can think about the action any further, you turn to him. Delicate hand placed on his knee, nails digging into the flesh ever so slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t notice it. But of course Choso does. Of course he had to. Because he's a disgusting pervert who blushes from the touch of a woman. Well, not any woman. Just you.

“You don’t mind, right Choso?” Your voice is practically a purr, eyes filled with nothing but the glow of innocence, “Here’s the only spot that’s comfortable.” God, he swears he sees your tongue flick over your bottom lip, wetting the surface. But he forces himself to shred that to pieces. A trick of the eye. 

He nods his head, “Guests comfort.” He swears, your smile might blind a man. You threw your arm up, a small victory, your body turning back around. 

“‘Sides, Yuuji’s gonna start kicking me when I win anyway. He’s such a baby!” You stick out your tongue in mock disgust, Choso’s face moving into a light smile. 

“Am not!” Itadori argues back, throwing a pilling in your direction. Choso’s smile only grows, catching the pillow right before it lands on your face. Your voice squeals in delight, making a quick, mocking joke back in the direction of Yuuji. 

“He is. A baby in every way. You know when we were younger he used to sing this song–” This time, instead of a pillow, Yuuji throws his body, pinning Choso to the couch. A hand clamped over Choso’s mouth. You break out into something that sounds like music– oh. It’s just your laugh. Choso can’t help himself laughing either. 

Itadori starts laughing as you begin to beg, to do the same song that he had done when he was younger. Eventually he gives in, turning the night into somewhat of a good memory. Even if you remained planted, not daring to move from him even after a movie was put on. Falling asleep, head propped against his leg.

Yuuji carried you to bed that night, Choso retiring not long after.

If Choso was any slower, he would have completely missed the way you looked at his arm. The way your eyes trained to the muscle of it. The way your eyes would sharpen ever so slightly, your teeth almost biting your lip whenever you even gleaned at his calves or thighs. 

If it was just that, he could handle it. Even if he is a man, he’s not primal. He has self control. Even if he found you attractive, that means nothing. Probably. You’re his brothers’. It would be pathetic for him to fall over something so simple. 

Only it wasn’t so simple. It never could be. 

He quickly learned how dangerous you could be when it was just him home. How little you cared for the intricacies of being coy when no one was watching. 

“God your tits are so big~” Your voice feels like a moan in his ear. Your hands wrapped around him from behind, squeezing his pecks. Nails digging into him, so much so that it almost hurt. “It’s no fair…” 

His face is flush, his posture stiff. Stunned into an unmoving demeanour from just how… direct you’re being. That is the best word he can think of for it. At least it is right now when his head is all scrambled at the feeling of your perfect chest pressing into the firm muscles of his back. Your breath right in his ear with every short exhale. 

When he came home from work, tired and useless, the proposition was innocent enough: ‘Ah Choso~ You look so tense from work! That’s no good, you know? Oh! Lemme just give you a little massage yeah? Help you relax right up!’ That look on your face, so docile and cute, didn’t help any retorts he had under his belt. Not to mention, any persistence he thought Yuuji had was far surpassed by you. Begging to give poor, old Choso a massage. Fix his creaky joins and stiff bones.

Maybe it was the wear he had received from an all-too-hard day at the office, or maybe it had been a lapse in judgement from the cloud that seemed to cover him. However the decision came to be, he thought it might be good. A nice chance to finally relax a little.

He had been needing a massage lately, anyway, the certificate Yuuji had bought him rotting away in his closet from his last birthday. Yet, he just didn’t have it in him to actually book the appointment, no matter how desperately he wanted to feel the muscles in his body unwind. Honestly a little nervous to have a stranger's hands on him.

But you aren’t a stranger. You’ve become friends. 

So, when you urge his shirt off, saying that you don’t want it to get all sticky with lotion, he doesn’t fight back. Letting you slight the slightly scratchy material of his dress shirt over his head. He lets your pretty hands work out the hair ties in his locks, allowing the neglected black hair fall over his shoulders. He needs a haircut, he knows it in the way his hair falls a little lower than it ever had before. Plans, yeah. He has lots of things he needs to do. Dinner, cleaning, making sure the report comes in on time. God he doesn't need another lecture from–

“Fuck-” His is sudden, low as you press into one of the knots permeating his back. He hadn’t even expected it to come out. He doesn’t think you did either, based on the little squeal that leaves your throat.

“Did that feel good?” You ask simply, continuing to rub circles deep into his shoulder blades. Your tone light, happy. Probably from helping someone relax, yeah, that's probably it. “I’ve taken a few classes, I was thinking about becoming a masseuse awhile ago.” He knows your glossy lips are smiling.

A breathy exhale leaves his lips, your thumbs digging into another sensitive tangle. “Oh really?” He’s not focusing much anymore. There must be some kind of drug laced in your touch. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle, hands cresting over the tops of his shoulder, gently rubbing his neck. “Mhmm, I’m real good I think.” 

If he responds, he has no clue what he says. Good is an understatement. Your hands must be god's gift to man. That can be the only explanation. No other human could be capable of this, he doesn’t think. Allowing one’s mind to turn into mush with just simple touches of fingers along their back. It shouldn’t be allowed, legal.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he sits there, letting you work through his back until it's tender. Needing love and affection when it was just broken and reformed by your hands alone. Your nails gently scratch the skin. He’s forgotten who you are, what you are. You are euphoria across his skin. A feeling swelling in his abdomen as he sinks into total relaxation. 

Well, that is at least until suddenly your hands are on his pecks, your voice cooing in his ear as you fondle him like a porno. The innocent delight in granting someone relief has vanished from you, someone else taking your place. His eyes wide open, heart rate as high as the ceiling in a matter of seconds. 

“See and if you just sit like this–” Your left hand moves to his lower back, forcing it to curve just so, “They look even bigger. Have you ever thought about getting them pierced? Then we could be matching~” His brain can’t wrap around your words, nevertheless what they imply. His head has gone a bit fuzzy, finding trouble keeping up in the shift from cloud nine to being in one of the circles of hell. 

Your voice sounds so sweet, yet your body behaves as a different animal.

Your fingertips flick over the nipple, “It doesn’t hurt too bad I swear… and you’d look real pretty with them too.” Your other hand leaves his back, slowly sliding around his hip. Your fingers dance along the contours of his body, finally resting just along his v-line. Thumb gently running itself across the ridge. Not daring to go any lower. Not yet, anyway. 

If he had anything to say, the words are lost in his throat. How could a delicate touch be so sinful? He has no idea. He can’t find himself moving his head, moving away at all really. Stuck in a state of indecision. Hoping the little balls he feels pressing into his back may or may not be the piercings you speak of so fondly covered by one of your too thin tank tops. He isn’t sure which. His brain is blurry, but his body is responding. His pants are beginning to feel stiff. 

“I can show you if you want~” You purr, your voice somehow closer, etching even deeper into his ear. Lodging itself in his brain in a way that he can't ignore. His body grows tense pulling away ever so slightly when your hands suddenly retract entirely. Finding purchase back on his back as if they were never there to begin with.

“Kidding!!” You giggle, patting his back as your too-sweet nature returns like nothing. Once again leaving him a little more confused than he would like to be. “Don’t be silly Choso, I was only playing. Don’t get your panties all up in a twist!” 

And that was the end of it, at least until Yuuji got home. Until he could retire to the privacy of a shower to manage a little issue. One that didn’t seem to want to resolve itself. One that meant his panties stayed in a twist.

Dinner was had like nothing happened. And it didn’t. Because it was all a joke right? So he shouldn’t dwell. Not when Yuuji smiles at you like that. Not when you two seem perfect for each other. 

His feelings on the issue shouldnt matter. And therefore, they don’t. As long as Itadori is happy, as long as he can keep that smile on his little brother's face, nothing else in the world is of importance to him. 

No matter how much he has to endure. However many times he has to apply sunscreen on your bare back, bikini top untied so as to not miss a spot. However many times he feels your ass pressed against him as you slide in front of him in the kitchen. However many times you fall asleep, clinging to his arm on the couch. Breasts pressed against him just so. However many times he has to ignore your subtle, almost streamlined touches. However many times he has to ‘take care of business’ in the privacy of his own room, triggered from nothing more than watching the way you speak. Watching the way your lips move in their pristine little pout. However many times he has to ignore that feeling bubble up in the pits of his gut. 

Choso is a man with patience. The ability to hold himself back.. He is able to be a pillar of fortitude where most would crumble under the pressure. Women aren’t an issue when it comes to him. He can be sweet, the type of man to look at the ceiling when walking up stairs, the type to walk closest to the road. The one that stays sober at company parties to make sure he can keep his co-workers drinks safe. But this is too much– you are too much. Last night was too much. The very cause for his mental breakdown today. 

He’s a disgusting man. One that has crumbled into a pile of rubble for the woman brought onto his doorstep. One that has dragged him deep down to a place he may never find himself recovering from. He’s a freak, awful, pervert. The worst man alive, if he had to guess.

But your moans are a siren’s call. One he was unable to lure himself away from. One he could no longer battle against. 

When he heard the first pitch from his desk, he ignored it. His imagination had to be the culprit. The second, third, however, no. Those had to be real. Right? His doubts were still clear. Yet, as if his body was acting on its own, he found himself befalling in a way that had long been forgotten in his past. A pervy college freshman, planting his knees on his bed, ear pressed deep into the wall. 

He knew that the moment he did it. He couldn't pull himself away. Even though a voice was screaming at him to stop. To go back to his desk and place his headphones firmly in his ears. To stop listening to your beautiful sounds, those that were filled with pleasure. To move away from the wall as the bed on the other side rocked against it. To stop imagining the skin slapping against your own was his. 

He was too far gone. Too far deluded as his hand found his cock, not bothering to pull down his sweatpants. He still had some class, some grace, he liked to think. He wasn’t completely abhorrent. Even as he ran his thumb over the head, feeling the pre-cum. Sliding it around messily as he tried to find some purchase on sanity. 

His hands were too shaky, from nerves or excitement he could not tell. Maybe he didn’t want to. That would be for the best wouldn’t it? His thumb, shakily, almost impatiently teasing him under the guise of starlight. What would you think if you saw him now? Palming his cock while his thumb ran over the almost red head. Trying desperately to conceal any shred of dignity the poor man had left. To try and go back to before his shaky fingers reached below the hem of his sweats. 

As the thrusts from the other room quickened, your pants and moans quickly quelled any lucid thoughts he may have had left. His hand reacting to the sounds, palm finding the base easily. The groan he let out was a mistake, but fear no longer exists. Not in this world. Not with the direction of his hand, the speed of it as it moves from base to tip. Quickly. Tightly. Almost painfully. He was too worked up, too frustrated from everything you had given him before. Almost, yet never enough. This was the last straw. The last piece of clarity he had before he completely fell to ruin. Imagining himself in his brother's place. Imagining how you must feel. 

He’s a complete sicko. But in the moment, he doesn't care. His arm comes up, resting against the wall. His forehead does the same. His nose scrunches, eyes shut tightly as he tries to picture it. Picture you in his bed, your legs wrapped around his hips. Right above his ass. Ankles trying to cross behind him. Yeah, you would be really pretty there, wouldn’t you? 

If your hands were god’s gift, your pussy had to be heaven. He knows it, right? Cause you're his in this little world. His fingers would slide up your lips, spreading you just enough so he could admire you. See how pretty you would look all puffy from his tongue alone. Fuck– his hips jerk in his hand. He won’t last. 

How could he when you’re under him? Right, cause you’re under him. Letting him fuck you. Every gorgeous moan of his brother's name is his own. Just like you said in his ear that night. 

‘Choso, Choso, Choso~’

Does Yuuji eat you out? Fuck your cunt with his fingers first to make sure you’re ready to take him? No, No! Don’t think about him. Bad Choso, don’t be mean to your brother. Don’t think. This isn’t about him. This is about the new reality, the pretty one where you’re a mess, all sweaty and tangled in his sheets. 

Holy fuck. Your voice is suddenly wild, an orchestra he wishes to listen to every night, and his illusions return to him. His hand moving faster, somehow gripping his cock even tighter. This time, however, you’re in control. Pinning him to the bed, his cock buried deep in your pretty, wet hole. You’re not moving, you refuse to. Grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles to bring him to the precipice, yet not allowing him to fall over the edge. To see the light of day yet never experience it, locked in a battle of wills. Who will fall first, who will beg. Who will be so desperate for release that they can’t do anything else but turn into a messy puddle.

It will be him, you both know it. At least in his head, you do.  

Your voice cracks, and so does his. A groan he barely muffles with his hand is all he allows himself to manage as he hears you fall over the edge into climax. He does the same, imagining he’s buried deep inside, filling you with his cum. You didn’t let him wear a condom, you never would. 

Thick ropes of white cover his hand as he calms down, rejoining the rest of the world. Panting, teeth marks imprinted into his hand from the force of his jaw. 

He’s been spiralling since then. Afraid he’s gone insane, truly. Maybe he should check himself into a psych ward, yes. That would be for the best. Someone like him shouldn’t be allowed on the streets. A pervert like him that gets off on the idea of fucking his little brothers girlfriend shouldn’t be allowed at all. He’s a sick fucking freak. 

You have to know it, don't know? That’s why you’ve been looking at him differently today? Like there’s a little spark that just has to mean that you know, right? Or is he really going crazy? Imagining that too? He doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t know much at all. The only reality he knows is the chair he’s sitting in, planting his seat in it since the morning. He hasn’t moved since then– his chin resting in his hands, his knees against his elbows as he stares at nothing in a random corner. Thinking about everything, nothing. 

How could he possibly face you? 

The answer to that question has drawn nothing but blanks in his head. Yet it is answered for him that very afternoon. How lucky he is, huh? His brother waving ‘bye’ to hang out with some of his highschool friends. You felt “sick”, claiming an upset tummy so you didn't want to go. Despite his subtle protests that you should tag along with them anyway, he finds himself alone in a house with the object of both his desires and his downfall into depravity.

Luckiest man alive. Yeah. They should say that at his funeral. But he isn’t going to die, not anytime soon at least. 

He knows that well, not moving from his eyes from their spot in the corner. He can’t now, even if he wanted to. Not with you right in front of him– two, maybe three feet at most from his legs. Pearly yoga mat neatly laid across the floor; water bottle, phone, and towel placed neatly beside on standby. Leggings, too tight leggings stretched across your perfect skin. Tits held in place with a matching sports bra. Following along to the workout video. Pretty, alone in your head. 

In downward dog, ass facing him. Mocking him, scandalising the mere thought of looking away from the corner. If he could see all of that from his peripherals alone, there's no telling what he could see– what he wants to see, from straight on. So there he sits, in his corner. Wishing he could be alone in his own. Wishing you didn’t occupy every crevice of his brain matter. Wishing he was a better man. 

His focus has to be made of stone, face scrunched in that annoyed little manner. Lip up in a little tick. If he was staring any harder, a hole would have bored itself into the drywall. If his attention was any less he would’ve noticed you moving closer, sliding backwards on your hands and knees. Pressing your ass against the erection he had been dead set on ignoring. 

A groan resonates through his throat at the contact. Sudden, unavoidable. Here, now. The supple flesh of your ass against him, teasing him. Taunting him in some way he can’t ignore. His eyes shifting quickly to his lap, looking at you in all of your glory. His hands gripping the arms of the chairs, nails embedding themselves in the cushioned material. The place they will find refuge, home for the next few hours. 

His face finally meets yours, eyes connecting as you look at him from over your shoulder. His brows crease, an ounce of confusion overtaking him. You look annoyed… frustrated. Your eyebrows pinched together, venom in your gaze. Fuck. He must’ve messed up. Did he move closer? Did he accidentally pull you towards him when he wasn’t paying attention? Oh fuck, fucking shit. 

Just as the apology starts to leave his lips you huff. Spinning on your knees, moving right between his legs. Looking up at him from his lap. 

“I don’t fucking get you, Choso.” You say, the hiss of a snake practically wrapped around your vocal cords. What are you talking about? What could you possibly mean? He’s the pervert. He’s the one that needs to be jailed for his crimes– not you. You’re the angel. The one who’s brought so much joy to his little brother. 

Before he can respond, before the words even think about leaving the tip of his tongue your hands are on his thighs. Moving upwards, finding purchase on the hem of his sweatpants. Directing him upwards. Pulling his sweats– the same pair as last night, down over his knees. 

“Like, seriously!” Your voice trills in a whine, annoyed. Once again, he can’t move. Can’t find himself wanting to. He wants to experience this, to experience you firsthand. A better man would move, a better man wouldn’t let their most base desires control him. But he is no better than an ant now, following in your lead. 

“Uhg, I do so much work–” Your hand has found its way inside of his boxers now. He wishes he changed them after last night, but it’s too late for wishing now, isn’t it? “And you don’t even make a move?! Like you’re kidding me, right?” 

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a word that’s leaving your lips. If he thought he did, its vanished by the feeling of your smooth, gentle hands wrapped around his cock. Flicking over it almost painfully, like you want to hurt him. Just a little. Just to get back at him for all the turmoil he’s apparently put you through. 

He’s panting now, breath coming out in short bursts through his nose as he watches your hand. Feels it actually touch his skin. Anything he could have imagined was negligible compared to this. Something that couldn’t be reached by anyone else. No one other than you. 

“I play with you so nice too! I treat you like a good toy!” You whine, seeming to get more and more irritated by the second. More and more irritated that he isn’t responding to your words. His cock jumps, more and more precum collecting at the tip. That seems to make you happy, a cute little hum leaving your lips.

 “You want me. Don’t you Choso?” Your eyes are round, looking up at him almost like a puppy dog. No one could turn you away. No one would ever want to when you look at them like that. A curt nod is all he can manage. All he can force out of his body to do with your hand rubbing his cock in a way that should be illegal. Anything more and he would look like a babbling idiot, he’s sure of it. 

You must have some sympathy, some compassion for the man as you let him go. Pull your hands from his boxers. So down on his luck, the most beautiful girl in the world between his legs. A small smile aids itself to your lips as you speak. 

“Let's get these off of you, yeah?” You hum, fingers gently playing with the ridge of his boxers. He doesn’t fight you, doesn’t retreat as you pull them down. “Aww poor thing, you liked the show a little too much last night, huh? Just a mess, huh? You giggle, mocking the state of his undergarments. The places he just couldn’t get clean enough with a towel. God, he really is gross. 

He’s once again wrapped up in himself. In his own thoughts, thinking of trying to get out of your mocking tone. How to save face in front of what he deems perfection. So much so that he entirely misses the way your eyes widen at his size. Whatever you dreamed of, it could not have been this. It’s too big, too big for most anyone to handle. Longer than your hand, thicker than your fingers could wrap around. Pretty veins running along the left side. 

It could destroy you. But it won’t.

“It’s not like that–” His voice is cut off once again with your tongue. A thick strip painting from base to tip. Tasting his salty skin.

Fuck, he falls back into the chair. Trying to find some facet to cling to so he doesn’t black out into utter hysteria. His fantasies never even touched your mouth. Thought of how it might move across his skin. No, he wouldn’t dare. Yet now that he is living it, experiencing it he knows that it wasn’t meant for him to. The mere knowledge that your lips might wrap around the head of his cock sends him teetering over an edge that shouldn’t exist. 

His hips buck upwards, trying to get a small piece of anything you’re willing to spare. “Ah ah, we can’t get ahead of ourselves, yeah? I deserve this, you know? All for me~” He doesn’t know how a voice as pure as yours can touch him like this. Gripping his cock at its base, squeezing it just enough that it hurts, yet not too much so that it’s uncomfortable. One stroke, two is all you give him. Your wrist flicking over the pretty head, spreading his precum all along his length as lubricant. 

He does all he can to stifle his groans; pretend he isn’t completely falling apart. But your lips lick the head, smiling at the taste. Moving to just take the head inside of your mouth. Slowly moving your head up and down. Watching him, perceiving him. Observing the twitches of his mouth, the brace of his hands, the plant of his feet on the floor. The way his hips beg to move, to piston upwards to fuck your throat dry. Awww~ but it doesn’t look like he can even do that.

His eyes are glossy. Face red up to his ears.You gag, taking in just a little bit more than you were meant too. A smile twitching to your mouth as you finally hear it, the thing you thought you heard last night. Ah, his voice! Who would have thought, truly, that a man could turn into this? 

You did, of course. And ever since first laying eyes on his pale face, his tired eyes, you knew you wanted to do it to him over, and over, and over again. Good thing Yuuji said you could, huh? Even if it took a little begging. 

A choked cry leaves his throat as you pull away. His hips arching, bucking up to try and find relief once again inside of your mouth. He’s desperate, brought back down to his base instincts as a man. A short whisper of a word leaves his throat as you stand, thinking you’re leaving him. Leaving him with nothing but a sore cock once again.

“You’re gonna fill me up good, right puppy?” But you’re not leaving him. You’re pulling off your leggings, panties following suit. You’re crawling onto his lap. Knees balanced against the arm rests as you position your tight, practically dripping hole above his cock. God, you look so needy. Probably are so needy, just wanting him. Only wanting the satisfaction he can provide. 

God, your fingers. They’re spreading your lips so he can see. See just what he’s done from sitting there and taking it like a good boy. He was right. Your body was constructed by the heavens above. Perfect in all its glory. A finger running between your folds, collecting yourself on your fingers. 

“Will it fit?” He asks, though it almost comes out as a plea. Desperate to feel you, to have you wrapped around him. “Let me~” You shush him, fingers sliding into his mouth. Letting him taste you. Taste what he is missing out on.

“Mmm mmm.” You mutter simply, though he’s too distracted. Too distracted until you lower yourself onto him; just enough so the head inside. Just enough so that you can at least try to adjust to the intrusion that he brings. His head is a messy fog. Hips gently rocking, trying to gain some relief while not pushing your poor, under prepared hole.

Your hands on his abdomen as you slowly begin to slide up and down, taking in a little more and more with each motion. Filling you up completely, painfully. Heavenly. His hands find your hips. Soothing the burn, rubbing gentle circles into whatever flesh he can find. Thanking you for not pushing him away. 

“Shit–” The cuss strings past your lips as your hips meet his, a loud groan leaving his own. The light of the living room proving evidence of your sin. 

His eyes look down, finding where your bodies meet, “Fuck me…” He groans, his always tired eyes looking more alert, more at attention than they ever have before. Watching as you rock your hips slowly, deliberately. You only watch him. A sheen of sweat already covering both of your bodies. 

His thumb slides down, finding purchase on your clit. He groans at the sight, rubbing circles into the soft bundle of nerves. He’s not going to last. He knows it. He’s going to completely blow his load before your first bounce on his cock. Fuck, he can’t take it. He knows he won’t be able to with the way you squeeze around him. The way your walls flutter so tight over his length.

God he should have taken his time, urged you to let him eat you out or something so he could have had the chance to calm down. To relax for a moment before his cock was nestled deep inside. Fuck. 

And now you’re moving. The pain subsided, turning into nothing but pleasure. And god he must be leaving holes in the fucking chair, his hands returning to their places on the arm rest. He makes the mistake of looking, watching his cock glide inside your pussy effortlessly. Watching as you make a mess all over his lap. Watching as he makes a mess all over you. 

God and it’s over for him, his head thrown back against the chair. His hips jerking wildly into your wet heat as he fucks his cum deep into your walls. Watch as the room goes white, euphoria filling his senses. 

Shame is all he feels as he drops back against the chair. He’s disappointed you, he knows he has. There is no other explanation. You didn’t get off at all and he's received, well, everything. Apologies tumble from his mouth, over and over again they are spoken. Yet, when he finds your eyes already staring back down at him, there's something off. A fire inside of them, one that refuses to be quelled. 

Your hips don’t stop moving, don't stop the ease of grinding against him. Sliding almost all the way out, just until he can see the start of the head before landing all the way back down. You’re not stopping, and his cock isn’t getting soft.

“Awwww!” You giggle, hands pressing against his pecks, leaning close to his face so he can hear you nice and clear. Hear the smile, the mockery in your tone. “You just couldn’t hold it in huh? What a cute, pathetic little thing!” 

His cock is growing sore, it’s hurting. It’s too sensitive. He can’t take it. He doesn’t want to.

“Don’t worry, yeah? I’m still gonna cum so don’t feel bad, hmm? Just be a good little cock toy.” 

Or does it hurt? Does it feel good? His head arches back, conflicting feelings of both pain and pleasure overtaking his senses. He tries to focus on one or the other, anything really, but he can’t. He can’t do anything but sit there and be good just for you. He knows he wants to do that. It’s the least he can do, right? For being just a wretched, pathetic man. 

Too bad it's so hard to pull away. But you’re addicting, and he can’t help but try to find his fix. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t help but find sparks in the way you move. Your hips moving rapidly, fucking yourself onto his cock without a care for how he might be feeling. How good he must be feeling dancing along the fine line between pain and pleasure, not daring to stick a toe into either side of the tides for fear of not returning. 

Not a care for how you grab his hand, press his thumb against your clit and rub circles until he gets the hint, gaining enough clarity to do it on his own. Your voice is all he can hear through his rough pants, air catching in his throat forming a groan every time you move. Every time you test him, urge him to stop if he can’t take it.

But he will take it. He’ll feed himself to you on a silver platter, apple tied in his mouth if you wanted him to. He takes all of it. Basks in the glow of your pussy finding pleasure in his cock. And once again he can feel the bubble in the pit of his stomach growing, telling him once again that he’s close. So terribly close he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

So he focuses on your voice– tries to at least. As much as he can while his head is spinning. Filled with clouds and spinning like a cyclone. The beautiful melodic voice he heard when you first arrived. The pristine laugh you let out on the first night. The whines you’d release when he’d rub sunblock into his back, and now the same voice he heard the night before. Chanting his name, whispering it close in his ear. Only this time it’s real. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your moans filling his ear drums. 

His name falling from your lips as you moan about how close you are. About how good he feels. 

Your hips moving faster, harsher against his own than ever before. His thumb pressing against your clit, urging you to your release as he hangs on the precipice of his own. Cock twitching with every menstruation, walls fluttering against him until finally, your hips fall against his own. Your voice letting out a moan, his own doing the same as he releases thick streams of white into your walls for the second time that night. 

You tighten around him, almost unbearably so with how sensitive, how much of a mess the poor man’s cock is. Your hips grinding gently, coaxing the both of you through your orgasms until bodies fall against one another. The waves of pleasure soothing into a gentle tide, neither of you moving to remove yourselves from the other. 

Your head rests against his shoulder, his hand coming up to hold the back of your neck gently. To keep you there, to bask in the moment before the timer comes to an end and he realises what he has done. What the both of you have done. He should panic. He should. But all of the energy is sucked dry from his body. He can’t move, he doesn’t want to. Not when his cock is still tucked deep inside of you. When he can still feel you. 

After the glow has faded and only sweaty bodies are left in the room you get up, though he isn’t entirely sure when. His eyelids heavy, falling down no matter how hard he tries to keep them awake. 

When he wakes up, nothing is amiss. His pants are up, his hair is combed. You and Yuuji are sitting happily on the couch watching a movie. Was it all a dream? No, no it couldn’t have been. That doesn’t make sense. He knows it was real. He knows it. 

“Morning.” Itadori smiles, noticing his big brother awake. Looking around the room in utter shock and confusion. His eyes slowly drift to the both of you, Yuuji’s arm tucked around your shoulders like nothing. 

The knowing smile you give him is all the evidence he needs that it was real. 

“We didn’t wake you up, right?” You ask innocently, head tilting to the side. He shakes his head, still in a bit of shock.  “Good, good…” you sing song, turning your attention back to the tv with ease. 

“Did you wanna tell him the good news or should I?” Yuuji asks, looking over to you with that confident smile he always has on his face. The smile Choso loves. The one he wants to protect and keep safe as his big brother. 

“Me! Me!” You say excitedly, almost bouncing in your seat. “Yuuji invited me to stay over the summer too! Isn’t that amazing?!”

Choso is going to die. For real this time.

[happy74827]

No Ordinary Life

[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)

WC: 1,179

Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst

We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.

Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here

『••✎••��

As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.

All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.

His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.

Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.

It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.

If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.

He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.

Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.

“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.

But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.

Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.

“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”

“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”

Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.

Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.

After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.

Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.

The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.

“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.

Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.

Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.

Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.

Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.

“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”

You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.

The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.

You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.

You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.

Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.

Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.

Then it was just him that was left.

He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.

His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.

But he couldn’t.

So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.

You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.

He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.

The damage had been done.

Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.

But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.

No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.

Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.

The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.

Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.

Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.

The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.

You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.

"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"

Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.

Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.

Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.

Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.

Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.

Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.

It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.

Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.

The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.

They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.

Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.

Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.

Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.

"What the hell was that?"

[starieq]

“Lovin her seems tiring..” part 1

Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping.

a/n: i had a little to much fun with the Taggies/warnings, lmao!: hello! Tysm for all the damn love! I honestly feel really happy I decided to make an account cuz I’d just go on tumblr and read bkg fics. Some of my favorites have liked Stuffie animals and some followed me, which oml🥹 but i’am really just on here to make people’s day and make some new friends:D enjoy my first 18+ fic and tell me what anime characters or characters I should write abt! Love ya! 🤭🫶🏼

part 2!

You’ve been working with Katsuki Bakugo, aka, the more professional word, “Dynamight” for a few months now. As his pretty little assistant, you have to deal with his bull shitting, make meetings for him, make meeting PLANS with other pro heros, schedule trips for him and his little bitch of a girlfriend, Kira. God you fucking hate her. You don’t really wanna admit that you have a big crush on Dynamight, but only your diary knows that information. But, you get why he chose her. She has the perfect long black silk hair that hangs out with her ass, glossy lips, pretty dark green eyes, slim hourglass figure, and perfect pale skin. But, you also don’t know why the fuck he chose her, because all she does on her free time is spend Bakugos money on stuff she wants. You’re also pretty positive she spent some of his money on a fucking boob job. 

You come home to your cute apartment to your cat Loki, stretching on your leg begging to be carried and snuggle up with his favorite human in the world. If you’re feeling in the mood, you’d pick him up and put him on the little bed by the window where he spends most of his time sleeping, when  you two get up, sleeping when you’re getting ready for work, and sleeping when you’re at work. 

Anyways, you’re in the mood to just sit in your bed, legs spread wide, with your box of toys next to you. head propped up on some pillows while your vibration toy is on your puffy sensitive clit thinking of Bakugo pushing his redish pink angry head through your sensitive folds while you’re moaning his name. 

“F-fuck..! C-cant.. f-fucking take i-it! Bak- mh~ Bakugo!” You moan. The white bed sheets turning a light shade of grey. 

You take a look down in between your legs to see what just happened. You’ve never squirted before? Usually your clit would just throb. You swipe off hair from your forehead when you hear your phone ringing. 

You scramble out of the bed to get to your phone which was across the room. 

:caller ID; Dynamight🧡💥:

“Shit!” You whisper yell as you tried to swipe answer.

“Hello? y/n speaking,” you say trying to sound professional and calm since you just fucking squirted.

“Fuckin know who you are.” Bakugo grumbles.

“Sorr-“ Bakugo cuts you off.

“Need ya to schedule a hotel for me and you. Got a fuckin mission in Tokyo and ya need to come with.” He says with an annoyed voice.

“I-“ you get cut off again, but with a girls voice.

“Katsuki! I need more laced bras! Ugh, you’re so cheap! Gimme your card now! And who the fuck are you on call with? Trynna cheat on me while I’m in the same fucking room as you right now?!??” 

You’re guessing that’s Kira. God she’s annoying. She’s obviously a fucking gold digger out for his fame and money. You’d be so much better to him unlike his bratty girlfriend.

“I’m on the fuckin phone with my damn assistant brat! I don’t give two fucks if ya need laced ass bras! Leave me the fuck alone woman!” Bakugo yells. 

“Make the fuckin reservations tonight.” The last sentence he said before hanging up. 

[maleyanderecafe]

Kaede, the yandere boyfriend (Oneshot)

Created by: Murasaki yukari/Isako

Genre: Smut

It's been a while since I've done a yandere smut translation, but here we are. This one is actually surprisingly pretty sweet considering that Saya does accept Kaede at the end. Very cute. Originally this was going to be something that was translated with the translation group I'm in, but unfortunately I'm really impatient. As always if you like my work you can always donate to me at kofi.com/lunaslurp.

The story starts out with Saya recalling Kaede's confession to her in university. While she is happy about the confession, she also feels really inadequate next to him, wondering why he confessed to her all this time. During their date, Kaede gives Saya a smartwatch, something she initially refuses due to the fact that she had already gotten another gift from Kaede earlier, a necklace. She eventually agrees to keep it, though she does feel bad about it. At her job, she gets invited by a coworker to go out and eat with the other coworkers. She asks Kaede and after a brief questioning of if there will be any guys, she eventually decides to go. During the hangout, a bunch of guys come in and crash the party, with Saya being too awkward to try to leave. One of the guys starts to talk to her and compliment her, making good conversation about a comedy show they both like. At this point, Kaede starts to call her like crazy, with her watch and necklace buzzing as well. Eventually, Kaede comes in person to drag Saya away from the other people, basically getting jealous and having sex with her. During the sex, Saya asks if Kaede does love her, which he does respond with a happy yes. He also reveals that Saya is actually quite popular with people and that because of this he had to isolate her by getting rid of the other guys. He also mentions that her phone, necklace and watch are bugged with a gps tracking device. While he talks about this, he does seem to feel that Saya is unlucky to be with him, but Saya accepts all of him regardless, happy that he has confessed to her in this way. After some more sex, we get a flashback to when Kaede fell in love with Saya in the first place. Kaede had apparently been involved between some sort of fight between the girls, and was talking to Saya about it. Saya states that he should treat himself with kindness as well just as he treats the girls with kindness and falls for her in that regard. The next day, Saya apologizes to her coworkers for suddenly bailing, giving them the money. Her coworkers ask if that man was her boyfriend, to which she responds happily, even complimenting him ina a lovey dovey way. Upon leaving, Saya finds Kaede evesdropping on the conversation with the earbuds he has on, embarrassed that Saya said such things, presumably for her to hear. The coworkers talk about how Kaede is kind of scary, but if that the two of them are happy, then it's okay.

This story kind of reminds me of Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, “I love you too,” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~, which is the other smut I translated, since they both accept the yandere during sex. Of course, Yandere Killing!! is much more comedic in nature while this one is more sweet, but it is weird that it happened twice. I honestly did think initially that Saya's feelings of inadequacy were actually caused by Kaede, but it actually turns out they both felt they weren't good enough for each other, which kind of adds to that sort of sweet factor when they do end up confessing to each other. Kaede has the general factor of stalking Saya through tracking devices, namely on her various gifts that she was given, so it was cute that in the end Saya basically talked about how much she loved Kaede presumably so that he would hear it as well through the devices. Though as a smut, other than the cuteness factor (both in the story and between the people who made it), I don't really have too much to say. It's cute, the artwork is rather nice and it has some yandere things in it.

Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy this translation. I don't really have much to say about it, but I hope you do read it because I did take the time to translate it. If you have suggests for what yandere manga to translate from Chinese to English let me know.

[nanabansama]

119 Thoughts

The recent chapter was... good!! Great, even!! We got a lot of answers and the new developments felt straightforward enough to follow. Still not fully comfortable with my interpretation yet, but honestly I'm just happy to be along for the ride.

Anyway, I wanted to write my thoughts down just to make sure I have everything straight going forward. There's a lot going on and some of my older theories have been debunked!

First, I'd like to point out what I think is pretty obvious and say that Kou must be possessed right now. The specifics are unclear but in my head this is still Kou, he's just being manipulated by the Red House or something. One thing I find interesting though is that he's overall really innocent... he doesn't do anything to put Nene in danger that she doesn't do herself. Nene is the one who decides to risk it all and talk to Amane, after all. The only thing I can say Kou did bad is separate her from the group and take her to Amane. Whatever is controlling Kou might be aware that Nene would drop her defenses around Amane and use that to their advantage.

Mitsuba's part in all of this is still a mystery, but I have to wonder if he will try to trick the Akane/Aoi/Teru trio whenever we jump back to them. I'm suspecting that they won't convene with Nene right away, though I have no idea how Nene will fare in the next chapter... (could she join Mitsuba and Kou and become the Red House's puppet!? I could easily see her tricking Aoi!)

Anyway, moving onto Yugi-sensei, I loved the glimpse into his headspace we got in this chapter. It seems like he's under the delusion everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) is happier in this timeline, which is quite interesting. It almost makes me wonder if the Clock Keepers made him like this to ensure the timeline stayed this way. They told Baby Amane that the future changed, after all, which is... honestly quite disturbing. While I think it was foolish for the Clock Keepers' goal to be to get rid of Tsukasa in the first place, I don't think they'd make such a big mistake by telling Amane the future changed and traumatizing him. The possibility that the Clock Keepers made Amane this way for the good of the world would be a thrilling twist, I think!

I also think this could explain his other curious behavior. Many have wondered why Amane spreads rumors about Tsukasa-kun and why he smirks when school kids summon Tsukasa-kun, and it seems the reason is because he thinks Tsukasa is happy this way. The fact that this Tsukasa is the age Tsukasa disappeared, too, probably helps with this because Amane might still be under the assumption that the Tsukasa who came back after their 4th birthday was a fake. Now obviously, this Amane doesn't have all his memories yet, but it's extremely likely they're just buried inside of him and--unbeknownst to him--influencing his current actions. Either way, I think it's clear that Amane is under the delusion that Tsukasa is happy torturing kids at school. (...and who's to say whether he is or isn't!!!)

All of the souls trapped in the Red House might be in a similar situation, where Amane is under the delusion he's making them happy. I wonder if his parents are part of them...? I'm just thinking that Kou's cheerfulness this chapter is really relevant. He's so happy to just be with Nene and seems to have zero worries at all. It's honestly kinda creepy, when you consider how he was in the previous chapter!

Now hear me out. I'm not usually one to wish harm on Nene, but it would be interesting if Nene got captured and got to meet Amane's parents, assuming they got trapped in the Red House too. I proposed the theory that Kou has just been brainwashed but it could very well be a fake Kou, and if she got to team up with Kou and Mitsuba I think that'd make for an amusing trio. Especially since we have another trio in the house right now with Akane, Teru and Aoi. We could have Nene trapped and trying to escape while a fake evil Nene tries to trick them... that could be so fun!!! (Writing fanfiction at this point lol)

If we go along with the theory that Kou is fake, perhaps the souls trapped in the Red House also have fake body doubles? You'll notice that they are very obviously not happy, considering the way they urged Mitsuba to run away and escape. But I really cannot think for another explanation for Kou's behavior in this chapter. Amane's ominous line about everyone being happy plus Kou being so cheerful just feel so connected! Perhaps the happiness once instilled in the poor souls trapped in the Red House eventually wore off, proving how fake their happiness was in the first place. (Or perhaps I've gone off the deep end.)

In any case, I really wonder what the point of oddly cheerful fake/brainwashed Kou is. I can only assume it's to try and trick Nene into thinking this new world is better. The motives don't seem very malicious, despite all the harm it's bringing. Amane genuinely wants people to be happy, and I think the Red House is working with him to make his dreams a disturbing reality.

I just wonder where Tsukasa is... is he trapped in the Red House, too? Or is he trapped inside the school, inside Tsukasa-kun? What if he's trapped as a child, unable to grow up, because the innocent little brother that left Amane on their birthday is the only true Tsukasa in Amane's eyes? How well did the Clock Keepers do at getting rid of Tsukasa, anyway...? He can't really be gone, can he!?

Ahh, but anyway!!! Thanks for reading if you got this far. And if Amane really prefers Baby Tsukasa then I suppose I can't complain. I mean, just look at him!!

He is so freakin' CUTE!!!! Grahhh!!!! ♡♡♡♡

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Bartender!Kyle x gn!reader Part 2 babyyyyyy Not proofread so probably horrible. Sorry. Just wanted to get this out there as quickly as possible. I hope you have half as much fun reading as I had writing. Part 1 | COD Masterlist | Part 3

He's not waiting for you to return. He's not looking at the door everytime it opens the next few days. He's absolutely not hoping to see you again. Nope nopedy nope. He did not suddenly grow obsessed with you. He -

The door opens and his head whips around to look at who's coming in and he can feel himself straightening up, when he realizes that it is in fact you. You and some friends it seems.

You're all chattering amongst yourself and occupie a table in the corner. Kyle isn't sure who he has to thank for your return because his bar surely isn't the most popular with regular people and there's prettier spots out there, but he's not gonna complain.

He wipes his hands on a towel, swings it over his shoulder and approaches your table. Suddenly he's happy that his bar is so small and cozy that he can manage it alone.

"What can I get for you?"

One of your friends pats your shoulder after whatever they said to you and the two of them, a dude and a girl, order their stuff. Your eyes stay glued to the table and your friend orders for you.

He wonders what's up with that. You look.... down?

Shame, he would have loved to get a glimpse of your lovely eyes.

When he's behind the bar again, making your drinks he glances at you. Your friend goes to pat you on the shoulder again and you scowl.

Down and angry too? Maybe he can help with that.

He decides to double the amount of your drink and then approaches the table while balancing a tray with your drinks.

As he gets closer he can hear your voice, angry and frustrated.

"... improper language with a customer!? Can you believe it? That fuckwart had it coming, I swear. They should be grateful I got rid of that scum for them. But nooooo, 'You're fired' it is."

You let your head fall to the table in frustration and Kyle is being torn between feeling bad for you and being enamoured by the way you talk.

He never knew he could be attracted to the way someone talks. But your voice is utterly captivating and you have a particular way of pronouncing words, that just draws him in.

He silently puts the drinks on the table, putting yours before you. When you notice the amount in the glass you look up at him in surprise.

"Uh, I ordered a regular?", you question.

He smiles in response. "It's on the house. Noticed you didn't seem to be having the best day. Enjoy, dove."

When he turns around he can hear the girl squeal.

"Did you hear that!? He called you dove!? Oh my god! He was totally flirting with you."

"He's so cute too!", the guy adds knowingly smirking at you.

Then Kyle's too far away to catch more of the conversation. Shame, he would have loved hearing your response. But he's satisfied with the knowledge that your friends will definitely nudge you in his direction.

He's pretty sure everyone in the bar is too drunk to notice him paying special attention to your table and you're too busy moping about losing your job to notice him dropping by way more often that he'd need to.

It's honestly no ones business. He needs to check on his little dove.

He's coming by to ask if you need another drink once more when he hears you say: "Just gotta find another café to serve at."

Like a knight in shining armour Kyle is there.

"Sorry for eavesdropping but... I'm currently managing this bar alone and I could really use some help. So if you're interested in a job, maybe I've got the one for you.", he offers.

He smiles brightly and warmly at you and you gape up at him.

"Holy shit! That's awesome.", you say and immediately slap your hand over your mouth. Then you rush to say: "I can control my language, I promise!"

That makes him laugh and you grin up at him awkwardly until he makes you speechless once more.

"Oh, you can run your mouth here all you want. The customers won't care and I'm just happy to hear your pretty voice."

[toxycodone]

it's hard to find characters who would love they're partner no matter what. Can i ask Laios with a reader insecure for their weight or scars?

This is one of those types of asks where I’m not sure if I’m any help simply because like. I feel I’m so straightforward.

This applies to real life but especially the dungeon meshi universe that it is not a crime to look different. And like, scars or being overweight is ridiculously common in the dunmesh vers. All races have a lot of variance in body type/appearance.

And with Laios, I do not, under any circumstances, think your body type or scars would phase him at all. (Please look at the succubus chapters and the orc comic chapter for reference. Dude is attracted to specifically the “unorthodox” if you ask me.

Laios would honestly be pretty shocked you seem insecure by your weight or scars. Mainly because packing on pounds is considered ideal to him (dungeon crawler things) and the scars are just! Measly physical things. If you’re that worried about them Falin would be happy to get rid of them.

But in my eyes, Laios is someone who just…is not stressed about your physical appearance. You’re just you. And you’re still lovely and fascinating to him no matter what because he loves you! No amount of weight loss/gain or scars changes that for him. At your core you’re the person he loves and that will not change.

But when you tell him about your insecurities he does his best to understand (even though like. It is a little hard for him because he just loves you and the beautiful version of you doesn’t change in his eyes). He’ll kiss your scars and soft parts and remind you he loves you no matter what. And try to help you achieve some sort of body positivity/neutrality!

To him it’s a vessel, and as long as you are happy, well-fed, and breathing he is too.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Creepypastas of your choice with a mysterious reader that has been with slender man the longest/was the first creepypasta

eyeless jack, laughing jack, slenderman, and jeff x reader who was the first creepypasta/has been with slenderman the longest!

NOTE that jeffs part is written as platonic since im still not comfortable writing romance for him, but the other two can be seen as either or! eyeless jack was chosen thanks to the admin personally hcing that eyeless jack and slenderman have beef over living in the same woods, laughing jack was picked because haha funny clown who is also old as shit reader is implied to be nonhuman, to explain how theyve been around for so long so! admin headcannons that zalgo was the one who made all the non-human creepypastas and they may or may not come into play here that aside, hope you enjoy!

EYELESS JACK:

now he doesnt want to control who you hang out and who you dont hang out with... however ej isnt all the keen on the fact that you sometimes hang out with the tall lanky forest demon.. but he holds his tongue. their basic beef is that they mostly fight over space; slenderman is possessive over his woods, and ej fled to the woods after he started eating flesh to live as a hermit... is a little suspicious on how you seem to know so much about the curse-thing that turned from from a human to a man eating monster.. though lets up if you open up about things (cough cough zalgos role in everything cough cough) soooo.... as for actual relationship stuff? honestly as long as you dont bring slenderman around you guys have a pretty solid relationship! especially since you know so much of whats going on you kind of fill him in on a bunch of stuff.. like how people fill in the new guy at work about the drama and lore of the workplace, you know? is a relieved that youre not exactly human, so a lot of his worry of accidentally attacking you while in one of his feral blood frenzy things is minimal... sits.. tension in the beginning that melts as time passes and explanations are given, you know?

LAUGHING JACK:

honestly hes just happy to have someone whos not super young compared to him/was there to see what was going on at least a century ago.. or more (fandom wiki says origin story takes place in 1800s, jack is OOOOOOOLLLD) so its nice having someone he can talk to about stuff from the past. and to joke about stuff from the past... and to have someone actually. GET IT. you know? really strengthens your bond, as well as reassures him that youre likely not going to die anytime soon due to your mortality... i always think about that stuff for immortal characters/characters who can technically outlive everyone, especially for jack since i feel he has abandonment issues... shrugs... you guys probably exchange tips and tricks for loads of things. just two old people in love but they both act like reckless young adults (assuming reader matches his energy). has no huge thoughts or opinions on slenderman since i dont think they would interact often :0

SLENDERMAN:

i mean i think it would be a given that you guys, against all odds, have stuck together and grown close. slenderman is reclusive, very much so. i mention that eyeless jack is a hermit, so naturally ej doesnt connect with many people. but slenderman takes that to a whole new level. i mean he barely even interacts with his proxies (still dont know how im going to write toby, masky, and hoodie. esp masky n hoodie since... theres the creepypasta/marble hornets thing.. shrugs... thats a problem for future admin)

so consider this a huge victory that he hasnt gotten rid of you in some way and has instead let you into his.. well i was about to say heart but i dont think zalgo considered giving him one when it was creating him.. though.. it is nice to have someone just as ancient as him, makes it easier to relate to people AND youre also a creature like him, made from zalgo? even more ability to relate to you.. though its a very quiet dynamic, slenderman isnt much of a talker so i hope you dont mind carrying conversations!

JEFF THE KILLER:

pushing once again that this segment is strictly platonic since admin isnt comfy with writing romantic for jeff so they just had an interesting idea for him!

very similar to eyeless jacks bit where you fill him in one a bunch of lore and how things work, as well as filling him in on the teeny tiny detail that demons and monsters exist. jeff is a little different in admins au/hc, since he kind of just. exists rather than being created explicitly to cause issues + hes new to the being a creepypasta thing (if you can call being on the run and being off the grid for the past decade or so new, admin is working on timeline stuff </3) (new in comparison to the other characters hush hush) so a lot of your dynamic is filling him in on things as well as perhaps even offering some sort of guidance in how to actually go about interacting with these creatures that he know.. just has access to.. torn between dad slenderman because hes not TOTALLY evil and cold in admins interpretation, but also that one jeff the killer vs slenderman fall out boy video lives rent free in his head. the beef would be insane, honestly... jeff doesnt have much of a sound idea outside of you being more of a guidance figure for him... person with their nonhuman guide my favorite trope that needs to be in more stuff especially in horror media where the characters are antagonists and shit

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 6

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You come home with...special guest. (3,4k)

READ ON AO3

previous part || next part

A/N: I am SOOOO sorry uploading it to tumblr took so much time; my internet was in veeery bad place and later on, when it got better, i forgot lmao. also; new aesthetics on the posts, i hope you're gonna like it!! love

Being drunk as hell had its disadvantages.

"You're fuckin' unbelieveable," he said, and it seemed like he was almost disappointed that you asked for extending your adventure with him a bit.

"Come on, Simon." You tugged at his jacket, whining a bit, hoping that's gonna get him on your mercy. "You have to eat too, it's a perfect occasion."

And that was the disadvantage; the urge to eat something unhealthy. You had this desire more often than not, something inevitable on your ride back home. Kebab, McDonalds, Taco Bell, anything unhealthy and quick seemed like the best meal.

It wasn't different the night you were coming home from the gala, Soap still being your personal driver, now listening to your and Simon's ramblings if it was a good idea to drive to the nearest fast food restaurant.

Honestly, if you were him, you'd probably kick the two of you out of the car to sort it out, but Johnny always seemed too invested with drama to just give up so easily. Especially if it was something about his best friend.

"Already ate," he murmured, looking at you. “Can’t you just wait ‘till home?”

“You barely ate, liar. And, it won’t be the same, Riley.” You pointed at him, grinning a little, when he rolled his eyes, scoffing under his nose. Knowing his real surname brought you a lot of fun, considering that it fitted him more than basic “Harris”. “Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna sit here for years.”

“You’re so—”

“—you have somewhere to be, or you just like whining?”

He shook his head. “Whinin’ is my specialty, actually. Johnny, you see somethin’ ‘round us?”

“Right ‘n clear, LT.” Man chuckled, receiving a death glare from his comrade, but you? You were pretty satisfied that he agreed finally considering how hungry you felt, even if you ate something at the military gala.

“Something” was horrendous, though; as drinks were just spectacular, their food was pretty… basic, tasteless? A lot of meat that you certainly didn’t like in portions, meat that was the center of this gala. Maybe it was a preference (or being picky), but some vegetables to it, or something other than meat-centered food wouldn’t kill them to prepare, yeah?

At least, you thought this way. You were more creative with preparing food than they were.

Fifteen minutes later, you arrived; at this point, you didn’t even pay attention where you landed, what fast food restaurant it was, you just went outside before Simon did, hungry and tired of this evening, even if you were happy with you going. After all, every chance to get closer to this giant was a win.

That hurry could be your first mistake, since you didn’t even notice how your dress got stuck between the car's door when you closed it. The outcome? Ripped material, almost to your upper thigh.

“Fuck,” you groaned, suddenly getting sad about that dress. Not like you could wear it anywhere else, it looked too fancy and you wouldn’t have many occasions to represent it properly. But your whiny-alcohol self wasn't pleased when she was looking at the scene of the tragedy.

“What did you…” Simon frowned, his eyes darting from your face and the bottom of your dress, now not looking as good as it was before.

“Ripped it,” you explained it briefly, sighing to yourself, when you two entered the local. “I’ll just have to throw it in the trash later.”

He seemed genuinely confused. “Can’t buy a new one?”

You shook your head. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea, if I’d have somewhere to wear it. But I don’t, so it’s a sign that I should get rid of it, you know?”

Simon only hummed in response.

The two of you entered the restaurant and ordered food; or, it would be more accurate to say that you ordered and he, like a princess, took a seat near the window.

He still stayed with his “I don’t want anything” statement, so you took something for yourself and an additional burger, if he’d want to bite into something—you could say that you cared about him. Not only did he take you to the gala after Soap basically pranked the two of you (even if you seemed like a bigger loser in the outcome), but he also was here. Spending time that he could spend on anything else.

Cheesy thought, but you liked that he seemed genuinely pleased with your companion, even if it was something so simple.

And he wasn’t irritated with you being loud. Something that he should be praised for, honestly.

“Mm. This?” You pointed with your finger at the burger, completely not caring about messing your fingers. “This is food.”

“Not really a fan of fancy cookin’, then?” Ghost raised his eyebrow, chuckling, when you gave him a judgy look. “What? Simply askin’.”

“I am , but I prefer this. Or, cooking at home,” you explained, as you took a bite of your fries. Then, you grabbed a few, trying to offer them to him since he didn’t order anything. He shook his head. “What? Come on.”

“Not really hungry, dove.”

“Doesn’t seem like my problem, dove,” you said right back, shaking the fries between your fingers, expecting him to take it. “Come on, Riley, you can certainly be a good boy and take them.”

You were pretty satisfied when he leaned in your direction. You even moved food closer to his hand, just to make it easier for him to snatch the fries with his fingers.

But he did something entirely different than you thought, he just bit them, and when you couldn’t be more surprised, he munched them whole, his teeth lightly touching your fingers.

His teeth.

Touching your fingers.

In theory, it wasn’t anything particularly deep, something like this could happen with everyone, but your attention had the way Simon looked at you. Your gazes, locked in together, a spark in his eyes, like he was challenging you to do something about it. To have a reaction , just like he had you blushing earlier on.

You cleared your throat slowly, to move on to your diet coke with ice, now melted; just like your dignity. Probably if he’d ask you to come to his apartment, you’d agree without any resistance.

“Not gonna say anything?” He asked after a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. Cocky smile on his lips, knowing one; he wasn’t dumb after all, he noticed the way you looked at him, the way you reacted to things.

Very attractive, but very irritating as well, especially when you had enough embarrassments this evening. You didn’t need him being all cocky and shit.

“What, you need compliments? Scratching behind your ear?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to mess with his attitude. You didn’t want to make this game easier for him than it already was, it wouldn’t be in your character.

“Well, since you named me… what was the word? Good boy, mhm.” He nodded, slowly, like he was recalling it all. “Then, it would be only proper to be treated like I did somethin’ good.”

Cheeky bastard.

“Real smooth,” you murmured, barely keeping yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

When you stood up, Simon’s hand automatically went to the corner of the table; you raised an eyebrow at it, confused why he did it. You wanted to even joke about this, but the words died in your mouth, when your eyes met his, and you instantly knew .

Previously, you banged with your hip against it. Hurt like hell, and now he decided to…

You gulped, walking out of the restaurant with his hand around your waist, protectively. It was hard not to say anything about this, about this warm, bubbly feeling in your belly, but you decided it wasn’t the right time.

Especially when there was a third wheel in Soap’s form that could very easily disturb your moment, or observe everything, which would make the whole situation awkward. But, that feeling slowly melted away.

Your curiosity was bigger than trying to act like nothing happened. Your nature was just begging .

“Personal protection?” you asked in a low tone, glancing at him after ten minutes on the road. His eyes automatically went to you, and when he raised an eyebrow, confused a bit, you chuckled. “That hand on the corner of the table? And your hand on my waist?��

“Drunk ones need protection,” he murmured, shrugging. So casually, like it was nothing , even if you could feel the chemistry between you two, even in the car, when your gazes were crossed.

You tried to hide your amusement at his words. Like he tried to cover his care to not ruin the “big man from the military” facade. “Mhm. Whatever you say.”

“Callin’ me a liar, dove?”

You had to take a breath; his low tone, eyes on you, didn’t help. If it would only depend on you, you’d kiss him without thinking twice, but the enigma this man was, you had to hold yourself back.

Scaring him wasn’t even an option, not when you just got closer to him. Good things needed time and you were willing to give him all the time he needed.

“Just agreeing with you,” you replied, nudging him with your elbow. Simon raised his eyebrow, scoffing under his nose.

“Whatever you say,” he mimicked you.

You didn’t comment on this - just chuckled and looked out of the window, to appreciate the view.

Outside got really overwhelming for you though, when keeping your eyes open started feeling like a challenge - the aftermath of today and the last couple of days. Twelve hours of work with animals, stress coming up with a few operations you had to do and this gala just got to you, the want of a simple rest. And this alcohol in your system wasn't helping in this situation.

It could even put you to sleep more.

So, you just closed your eyes, trying to get them to rest for a moment, as you thought about today. You thought about the beauty of the old casino, all the people that were here, but most and for all, you thought about Simon Riley.

How he wanted to hide his little smile under this balaclava, but you caught it anyway, since you were aware that he was proud of himself. Being awarded in front of all those sergeants, captains, generals, knowing that you’re doing a damn good job and they could only be jealous. His special force, whatever he served in, was blessed to have him.

And God, you couldn’t get rid of the image of his eyes. His dark brown eyes, sparkling under that warm, orange light when he came to you after his medal was proudly put on his chest. Simon didn’t even look at anyone else in the room thanking him, his gaze was only on you, and for a few seconds, you thought you’re gonna kiss this man in a form of silent “congratulations”.

This would be a great idea, if you’d have more courage and knowledge that he won’t push you away in front of all these people. You didn’t, so you stuck just to a compliment and a smile; a kiss could come later, in the right moment, where you’d handle the possible disappointment of him telling you “no”.

After all, he was still an enigma. Puzzles to solve, where you lacked several of them, and even if you saw the whole picture, those pieces were needed to see the details.

Thoughts transformed into dream, ruined by sudden touch under your knees and on your neck; you opened your eyes wide, just to be welcomed with a quick, smooth sssh like it was supposed to calm you down. It kinda did, considering you estimated the situation slowly, acknowledging that you were right in front of your apartment. Simon handled the situation with you in his arms, as you were hugged to his chest with his jacket on you.

“Your number?”

"Hey, you can… put me down. I have legs, you know. And I'm heavy, and-"

His huff interrupted your blabbing, as you raised your eyebrow, almost offended by his behavior. "Y'think that you're heavy? Try to lift a dead man thrice your weight, completely on your own, then we'll talk. Not to mention, with military gear, so he was probably even heavier."

Well, in this comparison, you really seemed like a feather for Simon. He was big himself, full of muscles, he lifted heavier things, people, than you. "…drastic. But, I'll take it."

“Mhm. Your number?” he repeated the question, looking at you with urgency.

You sighed, defeated. “114b. Fourth floor, you have a lift if you’re gonna turn left right now.”

“Got it, dove.”

As uncomfortable it was for a few seconds, you got used to your presence on his arms. It was almost like you were the right fit for him, the way his arm easily fit under your knees. The difference between you two was pretty visible too, considering that his palm was almost the size of your head. A couple of inches and it would be there .

You couldn’t help but think of other places where you could compare him to you. A familiar heat appeared on your cheeks and you tried not to look at your company for a few seconds, ashamed.

“You never gave me a dance, actually,” you murmured. Almost inaudibly; a bit of shame went through you. It was better to ask these questions when you were wasted like shit, not when you were sobering up a little.

“A dance?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at you with confusion. Visible one, as he tilted his head, stopping right in front of your door.

“Something that you do on occasions like this one, you know.” You shrugged, as you grabbed your key from the purse, giving it to him. After turning it two times, you two entered the apartment.

“You sound disappointed,” he remarked, as he put you down, eyes observing you carefully. It seemed like he wanted to make sure, and it made the whole thing awkward even more.

“No, it’s…” you shook your head, praying to lord or whoever was listening to you, to make him drop the topic. You had enough humiliation today, you didn’t need another one.

Especially with something trivial, where your thoughts just flew out of your mouth before you even acknowledged the meaning behind them. The possible consequences of scaring him away because you wanted too much and he wasn’t the type to dance with someone.

Or to be closer with someone, in that matter.

To your surprise though, he took a few steps in your direction. “Do you want to dance with me?”

His ask made you gulp; you wanted to say that he’s not obliged to do this, lie that you don’t want it, but the look in his eyes… you just couldn’t lie. “I want to, but you probably have…”

“…just shut up”, he murmured, as he located his hands on the small of your back. Big hands, making you feel ridiculously small in comparison. “Play the music you like. From the phone, even.”

Despite feeling awkward, you picked out a song to play in the background; something slow, something that you can sway to, without being too pressed about making this perfect. Honestly, you just wanted his arms around you with good music to it, where the worries would simply go away. You thought he would have this effect on you.

And he had, despite being a little clumsy in dancing - you didn’t care about instructing him from time to time, as long as you had your head against his chest, eyes closed for a moment. You wanted to drown yourself in that pleasure, melt and never let go of this warmness that he gave you so easily.

You wondered if he was always this hot, a walking heater, or it was just tonight.

”My dance abilities are mortifyin’,” he sighed, right to your ear. Hot breath made you shudder a bit, as you acknowledged how close he actually was to you. Chest to chest level, level where you wouldn’t expect him to be.

The closest you were… was that one moment back in the clinic - you slipped, and he caught you. Things were different back then, more stiff and official than it was when he danced with you, not only because you knew a bit more about him.

You never would’ve thought that it’s possible to maintain contact with him, not with a man that felt like a ghost among others. Ghost that probably never looks back, never interacts with someone more than a couple of times, just for his egoistical needs. For a sense of calmness that he probably hasn't experienced in a long time because of his job - without people, in his own apartment, he had it. Maybe for a brief moment, but you were pretty sure that he had it somehow.

Surprisingly, iit got to the point that you went to a military gala with him, it got to the point where he recommended you a mechanic, it got to the point where you met his comrades. Completely accidentally, but still. For some reason, you felt like something was working for the first time, and you couldn’t be more happy; it felt like you tamed him, if a man like him was capable of that. Of becoming… a home cat. Home cat that scratches you from time to time, but he’s around anyway.

You got him to trust you enough. If it wasn’t a gift, you didn’t know what it was.

“You’re doing great, actually,” you chuckled under your breath, hands comfortably around his neck. Eyes locked with his rich brown, staring so carefully into yours, like he was trying to see something between them; and you’d let him, if only he wanted to.

Simon’s lips opened for a moment, until it quickly closed again with a curse, his foot crashing yours

You hissed with pain, your teeth biting into your lower lip. This man had power in his legs without even trying , you could only guess how strong it could be if he’d do it on purpose.

Simon tried to back off, but you didn’t let him, your fingers snaking around his hand to let him know that you, pretty much, didn’t care.

“That much of doin’ great, dove,” he sighed, looking down at you. “Not made for dancing.”

“You’re made for other activities, though. Sure of that,” you whispered out, as you wrapped your hands around his neck again when his hands got back at your waist. The innuendo, completely not planned by you, hit you the moment he raised his eyebrow with curiosity. The spark in his brown eyes was evident, when the heat of your words dawned on your cheeks. “I didn’t mean it that way—”

“—surely.” He chuckled, tilting his head to the side. You wondered how he was so cocksure all the time; was he like this from the start, or something, someone shaped him this way? “Tell me, would you like to test it? My other activities ?”

You were pretty sure that if he wouldn’t drop the attitude he had, you’d faint on spot. “You’re so insufferable, Riley. I swear to God. Should we stop dancing, then?”

Something ignited in him when you said that; he didn’t waste any more time, just started slowly swaying with you again. “And they are tellin’ me that I don’t have sense of humour.”

“Well. Maybe it's the elite one,” you snickered. As you felt a sudden wave of fatigue going through your body, you rested your cheek against his chest, hoping that he wouldn’t say a thing about you doing this again . Or, wouldn’t push you off, at least. “You could tell me some, if you want to. Jokes, I mean.”

“Could I…” he muttered. His grip around you tightened more, his hands going up and down your spine, making you feel at home in his arms. You suddenly didn’t need a bed to rest, a couch or anything else. Simon’s arms were enough. “Maybe I could. But I don’t know if you have ‘elite humour’, you know.”

“I might have, if those jokes aren’t about Americans being the worst people alive,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a smile, when you heard that he laughed too.

“They are, though.” He shrugged, locking eyes with you again. “But you’re the exception to the rule, dove.”

[f1nalboys]

Catch 22 - Bo Sinclair and Nick Jones

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader x Nick Jones

haiiii so heres the first of (hopefully) a few poly fics!!! bex (@bisexual-horror-fan) is currently running a little something called multi-may where for the month of may, every fic she posts will be polyam focused!!! i HAD to participate and what better way to do it than w stinky bo and stinky nick?? i hope yall enjoy the surprise of nick and the nasty sick little thing i wrote here for you &lt;3 PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE GUYS!

WORD COUNT: 2526

WARNINGS: nsfw, dub-con to be safe but reader is (sadly and not really happy about it) into it, poly!relationship, toxic relationships, reader and nick used to date before ambrose and now bo is in the mix, bo comes as his own warning and honestly in this one, so does nick! oral (amab receiving,) unprotected sex, spit-roasting, heavy degradation, light praise but it's really just to make the degradation hit harder, slight humiliation, blood, biting, sadism and slight masochism, toy usage, slight dumbification, training mention (aka bo trains nick to be as sadistic as him and they train you to be good for them.) reader is called pet/sugar/freak/a good little bitch/baby/a pretty dumb thing.

It was hard to think about how exactly you got here, squished between both men with an ache deep in your gut as their hands roamed your body. How long had it been since you and he had come to town? A few days? A few weeks? Months? You weren’t sure anymore. Time in the basement had all but stopped for you the moment you had gotten strapped to the chair and it was hard for you to even think about before, especially when what was happening now was so good.

“Like that, doncha?” Bo asks, grinding against your ass, his face nuzzled into your neck. You make a noise resembling an agreement and you can feel his laugh rumble in his chest. He’s still clothed and you wish he weren’t, you wish he were naked and doing this to you so that you could at least pretend it was more for his own pleasure than yours. “Yeah, I bet you do. Like having two sets of hands on you, don’t you, my greedy little pet?”

He’s right, you do, and you hate that you do. You hate how much you’re loving this, having four hands grabbing and groping and pulling at you however they please. “They do love it,” Nick’s voice is in front of you and his forehead is pressed against your own. You blink, getting rid of the haze that had begun to collect in the edges of your vision, and are met with his icy stare. He resembled Bo here, a sharp stare with eyes that seemed to sparkle in a way that made your gut swim in both anxiety and lust. “Tell him, baby. Admit that you like when we treat you like this.”

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry. You nod and both men tsk at the same time, something you wish you could laugh at. You wish that their accidental synchronicity could ease your worries a bit, and could result in the briefest moments of normalcy. But their being in sync meant they were the same and that they had the same idea floating through their heads. Nick smiles at you, the corner of his lip curling upwards into a snarl. You’re sure Bo has a matching one.

“He told you to say it, sugar,” Bo’s grip on your hip tightens, grime-covered nails digging into your bare flesh, right over the last remnants of finger-print shaped bruises. It hurts but it was meant to. His touch was always meant to. Bo wanted the pain and pleasure to be uneven, coming in waves, making you crave the pain knowing that the sweeping and overwhelming end of the pleasure would come for you eventually. And god, did you crave that ‘eventually.’ “So… fuckin’ say it. Unless you want me to cut that tongue outta your mouth? Might do some good; you talk so goddamn much.”

“Yeah, but then how are we gonna let ‘em suck our cocks, Bo?” Nick asks, ignoring your squirming. You felt claustrophobic in between these two. Everything they did was almost too much, too intense and too rough and too hurried, but the thought of them leaving you after all this, aching for their touch, was enough to kill you. His voice was light as if he were discussing the weather with the other man and not about whether or not your tongue should be cut from your fucking mouth. “Wouldn’t you miss it, man? How warm and tight their throat is? So perfect…�� 

Nick drags his hands down your neck as if he were imagining you on your knees for him then and there, taking his cock like you had done hundreds of times before, some before Bo but most after. Bo liked to watch, liked seeing how he brought this sick sadistic side of Nick out. You remember the first time they both used you, when Nick didn’t pay attention to your whimpers of pain as he pushed inside, how he seemed focused only on his own pleasure, looking at you only to call you a name that you had never seen pass his lips before, the same name Bo had called you before. Pet. Bo had been watching, directing, and had met your eye after the third round with a smile. “Seems he got the hang of it all, doncha think?”

Bo hums. They had been touching you everywhere except where you needed them and you were getting desperate and they knew you were too. It would be embarrassing if they hadn’t already trained you to enjoy it. “Guess you’re right. Maybe we can get one last good one in before we do it.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you yelp in pain, feeling the skin break underneath his teeth. He keeps biting for a moment longer just to hear your cries, just to smell the fear seep out of the wound before he pulls away. You look up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks, and he grins. Blood covers his teeth. 

You knew if given the chance - if given a reason - Bo would be more than happy to rip your throat out with his teeth, pull and tear the muscle from your body, feel the warm blood cover his mouth and the front of his shirt, savor the taste. When you look at Nick, his eyes are on the shallow wound of your shoulder and he swallows hard, eyes trained on the blood dripping from the mark. You wonder what would happen to him if you were gone. Nick and Bo didn’t seem to interact much unless you were involved. Would Bo kill him too? Would Nick even want to live?

The idea of the two of them moving on and finding someone new to replace you fills your gut with a slow-moving panic, one that you suppose is always there inside you, just under the surface. And then Nick is looking at you and you're taken back to before Ambrose, to the guy you had thought about marrying, to the late nights and soft kisses and praise that dripped from his tongue like honey. It’s all gone now. That Nick had died the moment Bo had met him and had seen himself inside, festering under Nick’s skin like an infection. Maybe that version of Nick never really existed at all.

The moment is gone and you’re back in the dusty house between the stranger and your lover and you don't know either one anymore.

“Please,” you say and both men stay silent, waiting for you to continue. Your voice sounds foreign to you now, thrown far behind you like a puppet on a string. “I wanna be good.” Nick smiles and again, for just a moment, it’s like you’re back home with him, but then the glint in his eye is back and you know you’re so very far from home even when you’re pressed against it. “I like when you both touch me.” Your face is hot at the admittance but you’re rewarded with a soft groan behind you as Bo finally loosens his grip. Your hip feels numb. “Please don’t stop.”

“See?” Bo coo’s in your ear, pulling away from you for a second to undo his belt. The sound is Pavlovian and you whimper, falling into Nick's arms, mouth filling with saliva, ass sticking out. Both men laugh at you but you can’t bother to care now. The dam holding back your panic from bubbling to the surface had broken and you were ready to cry, to beg, to do anything and everything they asked. “Was that so hard?”

His voice reminds you of what it was like to be scolded as a child and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you as Nick cradles your head in his hands. He presses his fingers into your neck and you whimper, pain shooting down your spine. “Doing so good,” he says, kissing your forehead. Instead of comforting you, it does the opposite, sending goosebumps up your arms. You had been in this situation with the two of them countless times and you knew better than to let Nick's praise be just that. It was always a ploy, shielding the true reason behind his kind words and actions. “Gonna let us use you, aren’t you?”

“‘Course they are, the freak.” You feel Bo’s cock press against you and he groans, cursing under his breath as one hand lines himself up to your entrance, the other pressing down onto your lower back, forcing you to bend over a bit more. Nick lets go of you and you cling to his jeans, face pressed against his crotch as you feel a glob of spit land on you followed by Bo’s thick fingers smearing it across your hole before pushing inside. The force of his thrust and the pain ripping through you at the intrusion despite all of the teasing has you jolting forward with a cry and Nick takes advantage, grabbing the back of your head and pushing you into his crotch harder. “Gettin’ off on this, fuck, they’re so fuckin’-”

Bo cuts himself off with a groan, finally all the way in, and he wastes no time in setting a rhythm. It was for his pleasure and you knew better than to expect him to touch you, not while he’s busy chasing his own high, his pants around his ankles and his blood-stained shirt in his teeth. “So fuckin’ obedient, right?” Nick finishes, letting your head go and nodding at you. Your hands are shaky as you work on his jeans, your face still pressed against the denim. “Gonna be good and take our cocks just like they were made too, right? Just like we taught ‘em?” 

“If they know what’s good for them they will,” Bo replies, sentence muffled by his shirt still in his mouth. When you finally fish Nick’s cock out of his jeans you don’t wait for permission, instead taking him into your mouth with a fervor. You felt complete like this, Bo inside you, fucking you with reckless abandon, Nick in your mouth, moving with slow and deep thrusts, reveling in the feeling of you choking around him. 

Drool was spilling from your mouth onto the wooden floor underneath you, dripping down your chin and chest. Your hands were on Nick's thighs in a weak attempt to keep him from plunging his cock down your throat, but you and he both knew that if he really wanted to, you’d let him. Not that you had much choice in that matter, of course. 

“Could stay like this all day,” Nick grunts, tilting his head down at you to watch as you take more of his cock with each sharp thrust Bo does. “A pretty dumb thing on my cock getting split open… yeah, could do this all night. How ‘bout you, Bo?” Bo grunts in agreement, too caught up in the feeling of you squeezing around him. Nick grins, sucking in a shakey breath before pulling you off of him and bending down to be face-to-face with you. 

There are tears spilling from your eyes and your lips are swollen, spit covering the bottom half of your face, and you’re looking at him with such a needy look that he almost feels bad enough to help you out. Almost. “You’re gonna play with yourself and make yourself cum before Bo and I do or you don’t cum the rest of the night, okay, baby?” He asks, waiting for you to acknowledge what he said.

“O-okay,” you choke out, hand reaching in between your legs. Nick’s eyes light up and he stands, giving Bo a sick smile before tapping his cock onto your wet cheeks. Your hand moved quickly, not moving in any particular rhythm or pattern, mouth opening for Nick. Now that your own orgasm was on the line, all three of you were doing whatever you could to cum first and you knew you were in for a long night. 

The pleasure that had been building in your gut all night with their teasing finally comes to a head and you cum quickly, hands sputtering in their movement. Your eyes are squeezed shut, a gargled moan leaving your body as Nick face fucks you, holding the back of your head to keep you still, Bo and he working in tangent to keep you full at all times. Bo is the first to cum, doing so with a choked moan. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you fully sat on him as Nick finishes deep in your throat, pulling out enough to leave the tip in so you can swallow around him.

“Good little bitch, doin’ what they’re told,” Bo finally says after Nick pulls out of your mouth, running a hand down your back in an almost soothing gesture. You give Nick a weak and pleased smile, exhausted. “Ready to switch, man?” Your eyes widen as Nick nods, looking down at you with a faux-apologetic smile. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, taking his calloused thumb and wiping spit from the side of your mouth. “You get to cum as much as you like tonight.” And then the men are moving positions, Nick using his slender fingers to push Bo’s cum, which had begun to leak out of your hole, back inside. Bo takes a moment to walk off, further into the bedroom where you can’t see him, and you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Nick behind you, touching you. If you try hard enough, you could maybe go back to before all of this, to before Ambrose and Bo and this strange relationship. Your stomach twists at the thought. When your eyes open again, Bo is there.

He stands in front of you and you look up, lip quivering at the sight of him. Bo’s sadistic smile doesn’t fade, just grows a little more knowing how afraid you were of him, of how rough he’d be. “Such a good pet,” Bo says in a mocking tone. “You can cum as much as you can.” And then you see the toy he’s holding in his hand and realize that you were about to cum until it hurt to do so. Bo hands it off to you and you take it with a shaky hand knowing that it would be your downfall tonight. “Ready?” You nod before realizing he was asking Nick and not you; you had forgotten that you were here for them, not the other way around.

“More than I’ve ever been,” Nick says and as the two men line themselves up, ready to use you the way that they had molded you to be used, you briefly wonder if you were ready. Bo shoves himself into your mouth first and you realize that no, you weren’t ready, and maybe you wouldn't ever be really ready for this, for them, but it was happening. And as Nick pushes himself inside you slowly, hands soothing the bruises Bo had left, you think that somewhere down the line, you would probably learn to get used to this.

[yongbokkk]

Can you do a male reader and Felix arguing and the reader gets angry and goes out on a motorcycle drive and something happens and he ends in the hospital and Felix goes and they apologize and they hug it or something along those lines?

i'm sorry .

pairings: lee felix x m!reader

genre: angst, happy ending

a/n; honestly this was rushed so i kinda dont like it 😭😭 but i hope u do

felix was annoyed, irritated that you've been spending time with beomgyu over him.

the two of you had been pretty close this day, and it concerned the blonde.

were you cheating on him? secretly making out with the other behind his back?

he was mixed with confusion and anger, as well as disappointment. why couldn't felix have you all to himself?

even though he has his lovable boyfriend everyday, it was reasonable to overthink when he had seen them taking pictures with a heart gesture.

now he had enough. it was finally the end of the day, and you were back home to your shared house.

as soon as you went in, you found felix with what seemed like a face written in anger.

you tilted your head, "hm? what's gotten you so down today?"

"i don't know, maybe its the fact that you have another guy." he shrugged, stating the obvious.

"another guy- you mean beomgyu?? you know me enough to know we're just friends." you reasoned, having confused of the assumptions.

"that line is famous for liars, you know. you can't be just friends when the two of you have been so close these days!" felix raised his voice the longer he talked.

"that's what friends do!-"

"honestly you could've just said you didn't want me anymore!"

"it was our friendship anniversary! don't you fking accuse me for cheating!" you had enough of his sudden possesiveness, you dropped the bag of sweets infront of his feet and went out the door to leave.

felix stood there dumbfounded, he'd forgotten about how you and beomgyu has been friends for years. wait, y/n!"

"stupid, stupid." you turned on your motorcyle, deciding to go on a drive for the evening.

you knew your way around the city, so getting lost wasn't a big problem. your motorcyle can take you wherever it wants within the area.

you didn't care, you needed your mind off of him. it'll all be okay soon, you hoped.

you were too busy getting rid of the tears brimming in your eyes that you didn't a car speeding towards you.

---

felix was restless, he couldn't sleep thinking about what he had done. he wanted to apologize so bad, he wanted to fix everything.

the blonde regretted so much, he shouldn't have overthinked that way.

as morning came, there was a knock on his door. felix took a while to have the energy and get up from his spot on the shared bed.

he opened the door, finding a stranger with a brown folder.

"excuse me, are you l/n y/n's partner?" she asked.

"yes.. why?" felix's heart ached at the thought of him.

"he's... at the hospital.. you should go visit." the lady didn't know how to break it to him, since he looked like he didn't know.

"...what?"

there he was running to the said hospital building, in a rush to see his lover.

"i'm l/n y/n's boyfriend, i need to see him now!" he told the counter lady.

"room 148 please."

as soon as she said that, felix was already running, so on the way, he was scolded many times .

he finally arrived at his boyfriend's hospital room, taking a deep breath before heading in.

he felt the urge to cry seeing you in bandages, it was his fault you were like this.

if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him and started that argument, you would've been happily cuddling with him.

he sat on the chair beside the bed, staring at your sleeping faced.

luckily you weren't that bruised, it was sort of just minor injuries.

now, felix couldn't take it anymore. he sobbed relentlessly, begging for you to wake up.

"felix..?" as soon as he heard your voice, he rose his head immediately.

"y/n?" he jumped from his seat to wrap you in a warm but gentle embrace.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" felix apologized over and over again, while tears were falling faster.

"i should be the one sorry, i should have told you what day was it." your eyes began to water as you start to sob with your boyfriend.

"no, no, it's okay. i shouldn't have gotten mad like that."

"i love you more than your brain could process, idiot." you held him as tightly in return.

"i love you too, and i will forever."

[gamerbearmira]

Hello resident Evil AU person here! First You don't have to apologize for the long response time I understand that life gets pretty busy and I'm just appreciative that we are able to have a back and forth to begin with! Though I will never say no to artwork or little snippets speaking of For your snippet I will tell you that Mirabel did a mass experimentation on her family so they all got experimented on on the same night just different times in the night. That way there was no prolonged period of anxiety/fear for her family and having them question which one of them is going to be next.

Miranda did kidnap a good portion of villagers from the encanto the same night that she kidnapped the rest of the Madrigal family. Some of them were for experimentation a lot of them were to bolster the numbers in the village and to get rid of the inbreeding problem that was starting to form in the village because of Miranda not allowing new blood to enter the village by experimenting on every new person that came to the village. There are a lot of people that Mirabel recognizes from her childhood. she tries her best to make them feel comfortable and welcome but that's really hard to do with the cult environment that is the village so a lot of the villagers from The encanto just spend most of their time near mirabel and her family.

And once again you are correct Miranda has been watching the encanto since the triplets were 10 years old and had been making plans for them since then. Originally she was just going to observe the community and family for a little while and then was going to steal the candle and experiment on it but she changed her mind and instead chose to observe them to see if she could find a vessel for Eva in their family. she would make frequent trips back to the encanto from the village and had her own persona in the Encanto she was there for every gift celebration and was there when Mirabel's door faded away in fact it was at mirabel's gift celebration where her obsession began with mirabel. Not just because her door faded away and she was the only one who had that happen to her but because before Mirabel even got to her door her and Miranda ran into each other and had a little conversation. just a small little back and forth of little Mirabel apologizing for running into Miranda, Miranda saying that it's okay and then telling her to run along and enjoy her party, That little back and forth combined with the fact that her door faded away almost immediately after convinced Miranda that Mirabel was the black mold chosen vessel (large leap in logic I know but it's Miranda that we're talking about that's all she seems to do).

Speaking of the black mold yes at one point when Mirabel first got to the village she did think about her abuelo Pedro and if it would be possible to communicate with him/bring him back using the black mold she obviously didn't try to do that but there were a couple moments before her family got there that she did consider trying to communicate with him through the black mold because she was hoping that he might have a connection between himself and the miracle and that he would be able to tell her if her family was okay and maybe even get a message to them.

As always any artwork is appreciated!

WOOP WOOPPPPP I’M SO GLAD <333 I know I’ve been mad slow, it’s finals week but. I will be free soon <\3333 very happy I love being able to talk about this au. ALSO NOTED FOR THE SNIPPET. Very helpful, I was actually unsure. It does help, trust <333 Will be writing it and doing art 👹👹

ANYWAYYYYY. I do remember you mentioning it, lmao 😭 we’re 5e Guzman brought or did they stay in the Encanto?? Honestly just wondering, I mean Miranda just taking villagers like nothing, like they’re puppets or filler characters is wild 💀 And the fact that she’s been watching the Madrigals for so long. And becoming hyper focused on Miranel after her ceremony is. So creepy 🌚 like does Miranda truly have nothing better to do with her time??? It genuinely is freaky asl. And honestly her leap in logic does not phase me, I mean it!s Miranda, do we really expect any less???

W Mirabel for thinking of Pedro but not spiraling like somebody

THESE GUYS 💪💪💪 honestly I was gonna do Dolores anyway, And I wanted to draw Julieta’s infection. And Félix just somehow ended up here 🦈 we love it tho