#i'm not gonna tag it for the main tags bc i want YOU to be able to have that exposure

[vimbry]

"likes don't do anything" they do

"there's no algorithm" there is

"well nobody uses the for you tab" I do

"reblog all art and fics you see" there's no thought put into that. if this does work on people, then it's just pity engagement borne out of guilt rather than genuine interest, which is arguably worse than having none, because it's totally hollow.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[elkkiel]

M / Polyvessels (Vess/II/III/IV) / Oneshot / 12.3K words

AU: Magic, Middle ages (Fantasy), Witches + Wizards, Mythological creatures

I am shaking crying throwing up on a Monday morning. And unfortunately I slammed the rec checkbox on the bookmark dialogue very hard, and now I need to go to a clinic to get bits of phone screen and also shattered thumb bone removed from my hand. Not usually one to share another person's fic like this but I'm gonna lose my fucking mind if someone else doesn't read this too

[secondstar-acorn]

not to be angry on main but to the person who was very loudly complaining about "just for once" and started making fun of me for handing out bracelets in the queue for starkid. why the fuck were you there

[good-boy-ren]

makes me nuts thinking about an f/o giving you a handjob / fingering you and, once you come, instead of grabbing a tissue or a towel, just...

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

Crazy but I saw you said Henry used to be your favorite so do you have some headcanons to share with us?

i'm glad you asked, actually! i've been writing a fic about him for 2 months (someday i'll finish it) so i have some thoughts on his character. but i haven't shared them because well, let's just say that mafia 2 is super valuable to me for honestly revealing not the best human traits (and i'm trying to make these mf even worse) and henry is like. fandom's fav boy so i just didn't really want to get burned at the stake like some kind of a witch

anyway  1) about henry’s family i've seen a lot of hc about him being the youngest + spoiled child. but for some reason it seemed to me from the beginning that he was the middle child and clearly not spoiled. and it's not about an abusive childhood full of deprivation, no. i think inside his family was quite cold (maybe not from the beginning, but if you take henry as the middle child - it had time to become so by the time he was raised). i think henry's mom wasn’t exactly tough, but strict (have you ever talked to mothers who raised multiple sons practically alone? i have and they’re some of the strongest and toughest women i know). and I think she took on the main responsibilities of parenting because her husband just didn't have time for it.

and then there's the whole Sicilian conformity thing (this reminds me of a story of an acquaintance of mine whose mother wouldn’t let him go to the store to buy bread as a child until he put on a suit and tie. he was seven or so btw)

especially since henry's mother had to organize the emigration of the family and the Empire Bay settlement all by herself (i.e. i'm sure there was help from clemente, but the point here is to create a home(!) in a new place in a new country. emigration is often a heartbreaking situation in general, and when you flee to another country to survive, it's hard. you also have to stay strong because you’re responsible for an entire family). i based this whole story of coldness within the family on one (1) documentary about mafia families (it’s called mafia women i think??women of mafia??? i dont remember) and my hair just stood on end at how far from normal relations within the families are. i.e. if his family found out he was a rat, they wouldn't come to his funeral, and if he survived, they would consider him dead. it's wild, but interesting. the fact that even in the families slides mafia traditions  back to henry and how his upbringing affected him.

arrogance - memories of how his family was treated in sicily.

coldness - his parents' prohibition of weakness/emotionality. this is where his outbursts of aggression come from - repressed emotions always lead to a breakdown.

critical of others - rare praise from his parents.

wounded pride - he lives in the shadow of his father and perhaps more successful brothers. a sense of competition, to which he reacts not by wanting to grab his rival by the throat, but by trying to hide and run away from it, just so that these feelings don't torment him. an attempt to change his mind and pretend that he is really cool and successful (instead of actually doing something. fake it till u make it only without making it). he's trying to be lana del rey but really he's just an aggressive wounded dog. maybe a flea-bitten one

mistrust of people is probably a consequence of the fact that mafia families are closed and live in a very detached space (?)

 anyway. it's absolutely 100% henry to me:

+ henry in relation to vito and joe (at least at first? can't say i thought much about their relationship to each other)

+ closure because of the trauma of death. because of the deep understanding that in this business it’s useless to have close ties, friends, love, anything. in the end you will lose everything. and for what?

2) henry and religion i've been wanting to write about this for so long, but i thought (still think) i'd get kicked to death for it

anyway, i'm sure henry's religiosity is totally hypocritical and selfish

hypocrisy - "if they wanna kill themselves so badly i'll gladly help them out. especially for twenty grand". excuse me. suicide is considered one of the worst sins in christianity (at least in orthodox christianity). that phrase couldn’t be uttered by a man who truly believes in god. not to mention what he does for a living.

religiosity is his way of asserting himself, his way of standing above others. the way he (not directly?) chides vito and joe for not going to church. it's actually an attempt to humiliate the other person and show that "i'm better than you".

and!!!! it's funny!!!! he believes in superstition!!!!! as far as i remember it's against christianity. booo poser 🙄

it's funny that he tries to appear to be a religious man and yet he's in the most abusive family in the city

nevertheless i think he donates money to the church but it's all some kind of payoff attempt too! not sincere!!!

3) random analysis - to me he is a fatalist! hence the lack of ambition. fate is inexorable and cannot be changed. maybe it's the trauma of emigration and upbringing, reinforced by the fact that he never succeeded. the idea of henry being a fatalist is based on his "it's the 13th contract, it’s a jinx" etc. lack of ambition due to fatalism - you blame external circumstances/fate for your own failure. maybe he broke his bones a lot as a kid and stuff, maybe he's got a reputation for failure? i don't know. not because he's bad, but because all sorts of bad things keep happening to him for some inexplicable reason (maybe if he prays especially hard it will go away?)

- the further he goes, the more he moves towards a crisis and a fractured personality. frustration, big losses that he couldn't deal with and that just weren't worth it (betty's death probably had something to do with criminality; i think almost all of his brothers were criminals and some died). and i have a hc about clemente who was going to make henry a capo after luca died. but then chapter 10 happened and everything was ruined. such a crisis could be a reason to work for the feds, or it could be an attempt to make a big score with objectively very little chance of success (............. or to become a don, which is the plot of my fic). either way, all of these actions to me lie in deep despair and entrapment

 - hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite 

 - funny how he positions himself as a professional even though in the game he fails every time (character = actions, not words). i don't know, maybe he was once good, maybe it's wounded pride and he never admits to himself that he's not good at "the one thing he's good at" and considering this dialogue:

the situation is again quite tragic. it's like "im no artist i've wasted my life". i can totally understand that feeling and it's very hard. to me he's a man trapped in a world he can't get out of. he's trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose (i think that may be one of the reasons he started working for the feds).

4) henry and betty i think they had a lot of genuine love for each other (..... unlike falcone and lauretta who are much more complicated) and for some reason i like to think that he and betty met because they lived next door to each other in neighboring apartments (the first scene with them in my head was betty looking out of the window and seeing henry in the next window taking dried clothes off the ropes that run between the houses. idk i like to think that he was helping with the household). and it does somehow seem very natural and right that betty was more proactive and that their relationship started because of her (he probably pushed her away at first btw?)

 if betty was killed by one of the families, henry never had a vendetta (probably clemente didn't allow it? one of the first reasons henry has a growing disgust for alberto)

5) random hcs - he knows francesca. very fucked up story because to francesca, henry is just a low-key polite christian (which evokes simple human sympathy), but he is actually the person who put her brother in jail. a person who commits the most heinous sins on an almost daily basis. henry doesn't know francesca is vito's sister either - if henry had spent more time with vito and joe: henry projects his traumas onto joe and vito: "you're so fucking naive." but then at some point he gets a brotherly instinct toward them - when eddie came to collect some of the profits from the drug deal he greeted henry with a punch in the face 🙂 personal grudge among other things (and since henry has many addresses, eddie went to each one and only the last one was correct. man was on the verge of a mental breakdown) - vinci and henry really are distant relatives - in the short time that henry and eddie have been working together (i want to believe that they’ve been working together), they have grown attached to each other. they’re opposite personalities, but they share a deep sense of loss and loneliness (in that don henry fic, there's a gunfight scene where henry and eddie are on opposite sides of the conflict and neither of them dares to shoot the other. eddie resigns and bows his head first. in this version, he also realized that he secretly wanted carlo to fail (still canon thing to me), he was incredibly tired of him and carlo's potential death seemed like a release) - one of henry's brothers took up boxing upon arriving in empire bay and was very successful at it. i have a random hc about this random brother having a fight with eddie. one of the reasons henry vaguely remembers eddie - i haven't written about luca and clemente here but my main point is that over time he developed an aversion and the family as a whole. this is the reason henry says he doesn't care about clemente family's destruction

6) vibesssss (there was supposed to be more here, but i forgot what i wanted to add while i was writing the main text) - about emigration. very painful and realistic topic for me. these screenshots aren't mine anyway it makes me think about henry and his attitude to emigration (which in my understanding is most often a tragedy for a person, because it is the destruction of the old familiar world and loss of emotional ties):

henry after betty's death. to me (esp the last one):

sorry henry it's you:

- it's also him. to be completely honest:

7) track list"Sinnerman" by Nina Simone: makes me thing about his death & character as a whole. his main song to me "Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to? Sinnerman where you gonna run to? Where you gonna run to? *** So I run to the Lord Please hide me, Lord Don't you see me prayin'? Don't you see me down here prayin'? But the Lord said Go to the Devil, the Lord said Go to the Devil He said go to the Devil All on that day So I ran to the Devil He was waitin', I ran to the Devil He was waitin', all on that day *** So I ran to the Lord I said Lord, hide me Please hide me Please help me, all on that day He said, hide? Where were you? When you oughta have been prayin' I said Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', Lord, Lord Hear me prayin', all on that day Sinnerman, you oughta be prayin' Oughta be prayin', sinnerman"

"Cold Cold Cold" by Cage The Elephant "I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life Doctor, the problem's in my chest My heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess *** Well, it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside Doctor, can you help me 'cause something don't feel right? *** Counselor, give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life *** And as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes My life before me like a flash in the night With my arms open wide"

"Snakes" by Pixies about the disaster he caused "Snakes Are coming to your town In tunnels underground Some travelling overground A plague for our mistakes They'll be right next to you Snakes up against me too There'll be nothing to do When the rattle shakes"

"Christmas Kids" by Roar about him trapped in a cage of a life he didn't choose "The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift And love is a tower where all of us can live *** I'm going to escape, but you won't know how Or where to find me when I'm gone I'll drink myself to death inside this prison cell This prison cell So get me out of here Get me out of here *** You'll change your name or change your mind And leave this fucked up place behind But I'll know, I'll know"

"Little Green Bag" by George Baker Selection (not really about his character. it's about a drug deal)

i apologize for a lot of text (i could write more tbg but a) i'm too lazy for it b) i need more time for this (which i just don't have) ) all this is probably ooc but idk idk. this is the version of his character that has settled in my head (and i honestly!!!!! rewrote him a lot in october-november because at some point i realized that i was actually giving him falcone's traits. just because falcone is 100% my type of character) anyway i hope you'll have a nice day/night/etc and all this mess will be interesting to read💓

[paigemathews]

My sister and I have been trying to watch the 2018 Charmed recently and. Y'all. This show is a mess and it has pretty much immediately turned into my sister and I making fun of it. How did this get four seasons? I already knew that it wasn't good, but I did not realize it was this bad 🤐🤐

[daz4i]

how to stop thinking any good thing someone says to you (like compliments or being proud of you or other positive expressions such as these) is a lie just to be polite or bc they're biased and thus can't judge you work and your being objectively bc they love you. asking for a friend

[hirokiyuu]

i mentioned on the dys>sol/nomi i was gonna be posting more of my fic backlog on here and then Did Not Do That..... until now! have some dys>sol>cal. 'you sure write a lot of dys>sol where sol likes other people' yeah. yeah. i won't lie to you guys tho this run does eventually end w/dys/sol but. u kno. takes a bit :)

aaaaanyways please enjoy this Unrequited Teen Angst WWWWWWW set during early year 16!

is that the sun i see (or am i just being greedy); 700 words

Sol’s weirdly moody on the transport. Usually even if he’s quiet, he’ll be fiddling with his holopalm or listening to music or something, but today he’s in the very back, just staring out at the scenery, and when their eyes meet for half a second he doesn’t even smile. Sol always smiles when he sees Dys, which honestly used to kind of weird him out but these days… does not do that.

Still, as the team files out of the transport and breaks off into pairs, Dys keeps an eye on him instead of scouting ahead like normal -- which ends up being a good thing, because after about fives minutes out by themselves Sol suddenly lets out an enormous groan and slumps over, hunched in over himself. And Dys can’t feel fear but his heart’s pounding anyways as he runs over, careful to keep an eye on their surroundings as he leans over and says, urgently, “Sol, what --”

The moment his hand touches Sol’s back Sol jumps, enough to send himself falling back on his ass in the dirt, eyes wide with surprise like he hadn’t heard Dys sprinting towards him. “Dys?” he sputters, before glancing around. “I thought -- I mean, don’t you normally go on ahead…?”

He doesn't look hurt at all, though on closer inspection there’s bags under his eyes Dys’s never seen on his face before. “I mean,” says Dys, who can’t bring himself to say I was worried about you, “you were acting weird, so….”

“Oh,” says Sol, before managing a tiny grin up at him. “That’s… that’s really nice of you. Thanks.”

“Whatever.” Ugh. He can feel his stupid face going red. The worst part is that he can’t even leave, not with how Sol’s smile is still wobbling at the edges. “...Are you okay?”

“Oh, well, um… I mean, that’s….” The smile slides off Sol’s face piece by piece, until he gives up on it all at once and sighs miserably, pulling his knees in close until he’s curled up on himself in the dirt. “No.”

Dys… can’t even pretend to be surprised. Slowly he sits down next to Sol, watching as Sol leans forward to rest his chin on his arms, for once not even fidgeting. “...It’s stupid,” says Sol, finally. “It’s really stupid, and you’re gonna think it’s stupid too. But… if I tell you… can you pretend you don’t think it is? Just for like, ten minutes.”

This already sounds like it’s going to suck. “...Okay. I won’t… say anything, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

The moment drags out. Dys picks a little at a hangnail, waiting. Finally, Sol sighs again, and doesn’t quite look at Dys as he says, “Cal and Tammy are dating.”

“...Oh.”

“He told me on my birthday.” Sol tilts even further forward, until his face is buried in his arms, and with a muffled voice says, “Like, he knocked on the door and she was there and he had his hand on her back. And she’d made me a cake, which was like, nice or whatever, but it was so unbearable just seeing them together and I just -- I just had to sit there and pretend I was happy for them….

“Apparently she asked him out during Glow? Like, after the attack? And I saw them together in the lounge but I didn’t even realize….” There is, horrifyingly, a sniffing noise. “Stupid… stupid Fennec Face. She’s not… she’s not even that cute, and she’s afraid of everything, and I… I….”

Another sniff. Dys is probably the person least equipped to deal with this in the entire colony, not in the least because he heard Cal was dating someone else and his first reaction was gratitude. “...Sorry,” he offers up, finally. “That… that sucks.”

“Yeah,” says Sol, as he burrows deeper into his arms. “I… I just… I really like him. Y’know?”

Quietly, Dys answers, “I know.”

In response Sol just lets out this big shuddering sigh, somehow burrowing even deeper. “Sorry,” he says. “I know it’s stupid. I… Sorry.”

Dys can’t think of anything to say to that, can’t think of a single thing that might make Sol feel a little better. Instead of trying anyways he just sits there like an idiot, keeping half an eye on the planet around them to make sure they don’t get eaten by anything, and next to him Sol doesn’t move for a long, long time.

[the-acid-pear]

I have yet to keep inspecting the sweepstakes, I need some air and food first, but I might as well share what I've been thinking about Mike today, because I heard of an interpretation saying Mike was a camera man for Spamton which ... Is very interesting. Like for me this makes me think of Mike as someone who admired Spamton, someone way smaller than him, definitely younger imo, who simply excitedly followed along with the orders given. I mean, up to a certain point. I mean this feeling is reinforced in the q&a when asked about Mike, that makes Spamton get very defensive, almost protective. In my eyes it almost creates this almost platonic familiar bond dynamic whatever. But like this is just a shot in the dark, bc what we know is, 3 lines, period. But if when chapter 3, 4 and 5 come out and Mike is there and I'm right about these things then I'm gonna feel like a god tbh.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[coridallasmultipass]

TW for my usual unhinged stance on puppets, if you're following me, you know. If you're not, I'm sorry (not sorry). ((If you're the author or narrator, I'm actually sorry.))

Okay, so because I'm allowed to be freaky on main about puppets on this site, I just wanna tell everyone, because everyone should know that creepypasta narrator Lighthouse Horror just posted a story (by author Alonso Solis) about an evil puppet show a few days ago, and I just listened, and I loved it.

Now onto freaky business:

Headcanoning the main char as a puppetfucker bc c'mon, that bromance, the way he lovingly describes Mr. Smiley's appearance, what he does before leaving the old studio towards the end... Just... Mmmm... *chef's kiss* love this kinda content. I'll sleep soundly dreaming I could have someone like that. Y'know? Big, glassy eyes, big grin, secret evil laugh, mildly self-animate...

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to their s/o backhugging them

requested ^_^ also junhui is in 2 diff bullet points bc i firmly believe he belongs in both categories teehee

masterlist

seungcheol, wonwoo, mingyu, dokyeom

see, here's the thing. he has a pretty broad and warm and sturdy back, and he's just so comfortable and always right there so of course you're gonna bury your face between his shoulder blades and never pay attention to the rest of the world ever again. you always collapse into his back after a particularly tiring day, while he's making dinner for the both of you and you want nothing more than to just bury yourself into his warmth and never leave. he's used to having you clinging to his back like a particularly stubborn limpet, and while he makes a small exclamation of surprise when you come out of nowhere to hug him, eventually he just smiles and lets you cling to him for however long u need

jeonghan, woozi, vernon, (junhui)

when you suddenly come up behind him and clamp an iron grip around his middle, he just pulls your arms more firmly around him, pats your hands and carries on with his day. you're holding him so tightly it's like you're afraid he's gonna disappear, and it's hard to move around bc you're plastered to his back and squeezing him kinda tight, but he does his best. that is, until he almost trips over your feet bc you're standing so close to him. he kinda feels like he's caught up in a trap, and tells you as such, every single time. “you're holding me hostage now, huh?” “i'm not holding you hostage.” “then are you gonna let me go?” “no.” but you're cute, so whatever. he'll happily be held hostage by you for however long it takes for you to decide he can finally be released.

joshua, minghao, chan

the moment he feels you burying your face into his back, hands around his middle, he's smiling and tilting his head back in response to your presence, murmuring a soft “hello, you” as you mumble unintelligible words into his shirt. he's so fond, practically melting in your hold, and he lets you stay plastered to his back for however long it takes you to wake up from your latest drowsy state that had you craving back hugs from him. because you backhugging him is saved for sleepy moments, for times when you're not quite awake and cling to him like a koala until you've fully woken up. it's adorable—you're adorable—so after a few minutes he's turning around and wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing ur cheek sweetly and asking if his lovely, lovely darling had a good sleep? <3

hoshi, seungkwan, (junhui)

yelps in surprise every time when you come up behind him and wrap around his back, before he realises that it's you and immediately relaxes. it's kinda comforting, feeling you and your warmth against him, but he gets kinda wriggly after a few minutes, wanting to see your face, so back hugs always end up turning into proper bear hugs where he wraps his arms around you and can look you in the eye properly before covering your entire face in kisses. he likes eye contact, likes seeing the love of his life right before him, and while backhugging is cute as hell do you know what’s even cuter? the little nose scrunch thingy he does when he gives you fluttery soft butterfly kisses over your eyelids.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun

[lowkeyrobin]

JUICYFRUITSNACKS ; asylum

summary ; you're mully's friend and tag along to explore a haunted mental asylum

warnings : language, ghost talking bullshit

disclaimers ; I only referred to him as juicy bc idrk if he's cool w us calling him his real name and I'm not trying to be parasocial 💪

word count ; 2.2k

y/f/I = your first initial

masterlist

Juicy enjoyed spending time with his boys, a lot. They were the best of friends, after all. But he also really enjoyed spending time with both them and you.

You've known Mr. Mully since you were young. You didn’t know the rest of his friends super well, but you took a liking to Juicy. You and Juicy weren't tight or anything, but you were friends nonetheless.

Tonight, you were exploring a haunted asylum with The Boys and Sam and Colby. You tagged along, wanting to experience some paranormal shit because why not. You’d binge-watched all of The Boys’ previous videos at haunted places and wanted to get a slice for yourself.

The group of you plus the camera people sit on the floor around one of the REM pods, with Sam acting as the communication between worlds. The blonde had sound-proof headphones on, connected to the spirit box in his hand, and a bandana wrapped around his eyes for proof that he couldn't see nor hear anything you guys were saying to the ghosts.

You sat next to Juicy in the corner, being the only person, other than Mully, you really knew out of these people. You intently listen as the guys hold a full conversation with whatever spirit/s were in the room for a solid hour or so, watching as they all freak out after receiving creepy replies or ones referencing their names.

You and Juicy would often share looks or glances, usually scared, confused, or curious.

After that, you split up into two teams to complete challenges around the building. You were with Colby, Mully, and Eddie, while Sam hosted the opposite group with Josh, Juicy, and Narrator.

"We're team Demon"

"We're gonna catch a big demon"

"Yeah, we got big D"

"We're team C(y/f/i)EM." Eddie nods, "C-(y/f/i)-E-M"

"Stop stalling"

"Fuck"

The four of you head over to the men's infirmary, Eddie, with the camera around his neck. Last time The Boys were here, they went down the dark, scary, main hallway with only the flash of their phone cameras. You go all the way down the hall, and all the way back, your only source of light being the camera flashing for a split second.

You and Dos, as the three were heading back, were moving around as the camera flashed to mock a spirit. The boys were laughing about it, still scared a spirit would jump out and attack them. Once they got back and looked over the pictures, they didn't find anything and considered it a mission complete. You, however, wanted to go down by yourself as you'd been hearing whispers almost the whole time you'd been in this area.

You couldn't tell if it was you hallucinating from exhaustion or if you were actually hearing things, but you wanted to see what it was as curiosity always got the best of you. You graciously take the camera from Eddie and line yourself up at the start of the hallway, the boys turning off their flashlights for you.

"Dude, you're acting like a horror movie character" Colby comments with a chuckle, "This is the dumbest shit ever"

"Says you," you whisper, making your first few steps down the hallway.

You can whispering belonging to Eddie behind you, but also some other, unintelligible whispering sounds that definitely didn't belong to one of the guys, nor was it even behind you. It sounded like it was more in front of you if anything.

You squint in the dark, then take a picture, using the flash to illuminate your way forward. You look into the doors on each side of you after progression another couple steps, unable to see, though. You're just trying to find where all that whispering was coming from. It was like someone was moving through the rooms to lead you down the hallway.

You continue, taking pictures every handful of steps so as not to walk into something and know where you were.

"You okay?" Mully calls, your silence giving him a weird feeling in his stomach.

"Yeah" You reply quietly, taking another few steps forward. "I hear whispering. Like, it's not stopping. I wanna find it" You mumble.

"I swear to God, if you go missing, we are not liable!" Eddie exclaims, "Why the fuck are you investigating?"

"I'm curious!"

"Curiosity always kills the cat, but okay" Mully chuckles.

You make your way to the end of the hall, whispering as loud as it possibly could be, like it was directly in your ears. You feel a shiver trail down your spine, and a wave of cold, like the feeling after just opening the freezer, hit you out of nowhere.

"Holy shit!" You exclaim, quickly stepping back while taking a photo, "Uh-uh, nope! Pussying out now, bye-bye!"

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Dude, what happened?"

You quickly run back down the hallway, not bothering to use the camera flash as they turned their flashlights back on after hearing you yelp and your footsteps running back to them. You quickly hand the camera back, the uneasy cold feeling not having left you at all.

"Holy shit, what the fuck?" You speak, catching your breath as you lean against the door, looking down the hallway. "Dude, I got to like, the end of the hallway and the whispering I was talking about, it was like, in my ears. Then I felt like that kind of cold feeling like when you open a freezer up, like how it just hits you and sometimes gives you goosebumps instantly. I swear I felt like an actual force on my shoulders, I can't even make this shit up"

"Bro, what the hell?"

"You're kidding"

"No way"

"Dude, I can not be more serious right now." You nervously smile, shaking your head. "That's one of the freakiest things I've ever experienced. Like, I'm genuinley scared now, I've never been this fucking, like, paranoid over something like this"

"Nah, I'm getting the fuck outta here" Eddie shakes his head, reaching for the door as you move out of the way for him. Mully quickly follows in agreement, as both of them wanted to go home the most out of all of you.

Dos follows them as they shout for you and Colby, trying to jog away and go find the others in the main building.

You and the leather wearing brunette walk side by side in silence, following the trio in front of you fairly closely. You stand in a circle, waiting for a text back from Juicy as to where they were, not wanting to walk around the whole building in search of them. He quickly makes his way down to you guys, deciding to lead you all back up to where they were located.

Mully and Eddie strike up a conversation while Colby listens, standing next to you, who's staring down at his feet and the grass. You were mostly trying to make sense of what you felt in the men's infirmary, feeling confused and shocked, as that's the most paranormal action you'd ever felt for yourself. Juicy arrives, picking up on your nervousness in silence, yet decides to not point it out while he talks to Eddie, Mully and Colby before you all walk up a million flights of stairs.

Juicy, unknowing to you, was staring at you again. He'd been doing it all night. You were the only person oblivious to it, however. Eddie and Mully quickly catch onto his attracted gazes towards you, though staying silent as they'd definitely be joking about it soon enough to the others. They were talking about it with Colby once you were far enough away, trying to get more people to help with the job of wingman-ing. The brunette quickly notices he's staring and that the others have caught on, and quickly joins in on the conversation, wanting to try and hide the fact he was doing it again.

From sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor earlier, back to even at lunch outings earlier this week, he’s been doing it for a while. He’s a little surprised you haven't noticed, or at least brought it up.

He was so clearly head over heels it wasn't even funny anymore. He was downright in love.

You look back up and then behind you, looking around just to take in your surroundings again. You listen to their conversation, rocking on your heels. Juicy's mind races a million miles a minute, mind cluttered by you, the conversation at hand, and the video being recorded tonight.

On the walk up to Sam's group, or Group Demon, you're the first to walk up the stairs, leading the other boys towards them. You were good at following directions, leaving Juicy to talk to his friends behind you. Juicy and Mully walk up side by side behind Dos and Eddie, a light conversation between them before Mully shakes it up.

"What's with you and Y/n? You got a crush on them or something?"

Juicy, flustered and a bit embarrassed, quickly shakes his head no. "No, no, not at all. What? Why? They’re your friend"

Mully rolls his eyes and Eddie quickly shouts back. "Yes you do! Stop lying to yourself!"

Mully nods, “They’re your friend to, y’know”

You clearly had no idea what any of them were talking about, still leading them onwards.

"Shut up!" Juicy whisper-shouts.

After finding Sam, Josh, and Narrator, you walk into the church and sit down on the wooden benches. Eddie stands at the podium, a large cross behind him. You sit next to Juicy on the right side of the room with the other members of The Boys. Colby and Sam sit together on the left side of the room.

Eddie recites a prayer in Spanish before speaking. "Tonight we party"

The room explodes into boyish cheers and laughter, all of you standing up. Eddie laughs before speaking again.

He shouts, "Sit down!"

You all go quiet and sit down.

"Fuck God!" You exclaim.

"Yeah, screw Jesus!" Juicy shouts

"God can suck my balls" Josh comments with a shrug.

"Oh my God, you're swearing in the house of the Lord!" Colby dramatically gasps

Eddie quickly recites another prayer, asking for the forgiveness of your sins. The REM Pod in the bench in front of you begins beeping, signaling some motion.

"Oh fuck no, bye guys!" Eddie quickly speaks, running back to sit next to Juicy.

"Bro, Mully, sit up" Josh laughs, watching you walk up to the podium after agreeing with the others to have a mini main character priest moment. "Sit up, dude. Service is commencing"

Mully groans. "What?"

"Sit up!"

He groans again as he sits up, no longer laying on the front bench. Josh and Narrator both mock his groan, playfully shouting at him as you clear your throat.

"Good morning everyone! It's..." You look to Juicy as he had his phone on him, which you knew.

"4:25"

"It's 4:25 in the morning. Early service today" You chuckle, "Coffee is right over there" You point to the side where a few trashed cans of energy drinks lay on the floor.

"How much do you dare me to drink it?" Juicy asks you.

"You blink for a moment. "You're gonna get AIDS if you even touch it, but be my guest, man"

They laugh, chanting Pope Y/n as it echoes off the walls.

"Today, my friends, we confront Juicyfruitsnacks and his undeniable crush on Y/n" Eddie laughs, looking over at the brunette next to him.

"Yo, what?"

"Huh?"

"Oooo his ass got caught!"

"You can't hear it but I'm cackling right now"

Eddie quickly pulls Juicy up to the podium with you, pushing you to the side. He stands at the podium with the younger brunette in front of you/to your side, as you both stand confused.

Eddie nearly raps as he speaks. "Today we are bringing this lovely couple together to wed in holy matrimony. God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit, bless, preserve and keep you; the Lord mercifully grant you the riches of his grace, that you may please him both in body and soul, and, living together in faith and love, may receive the blessings of eternal life. Amen. Juicy, Y/n, would you like to read your vows?"

The Boys laugh as you and Juicy share a smile and laugh as well.

"Since when were we getting married?" You question

"Since I had to become a wingman" Eddie shrugs as he replies. "So did they. Mostly Mully." He points towards the crowd of boys watching.

"What is happening right now?" You awkwardly laugh.

Juicy laughs as well, "I mean, he isn't lying"

The room is now silent.

"Wait, what?"

"Can I take you out sometime?"

You glance over at Eddie and then the boys, then look back at Juicy.

"Uh, sure"

The others explode into cheers you'd probably be able to hear outside, and the older brunette quickly wraps the both of you in a hug.

"Dude, too much has happened tonight, I got creeped on by a ghost and now I have to mentally prepare myself for a date"

"You love me!"

"Love is a strong word"

"They're already having couple-fights!"

"Eddie, I swear to God"

"No swearing in the house of the Lord!"

[9toji]

‧₊˚✩彡 I WANNA RIDE —

MINORS DNI !

pairings ; gojo x fem! reader ; nanami x fem! reader

tags / tw ; thigh-riding, use of endearments: bunny, cockwarming, bratty! reader (nanami), soft dom! gojo, slightly mean! dom nanami (bcs you tease him) characters are 22+

rina's comments ; my first work >< enjoy!!

“satoru..” you could only groan and gasp as gojo stares at you, completely in awe. his glowing blue eyes look over to your cunt, with a pleased grin. he loves the way it slicks up his clothed thigh, how the slick stains his black jeans.

he laughs at the way you shake and gasp for air, “we've only just started bunny, already so wet f'me.. look at you.. workin' that cunt. looks so delicious.” his voice drawls, completely enamored by you riding his thigh, how your back arches as if you're riding his cock.

“so sensitive bunny, can you even take my cock later? look at how huge your juices stained my pants baby.” he coos, making you look at your “dirty little mess.” nodding as if your life depended on it, you wanted him inside, needed it. god, it's been so long, you missed it.

and gojo couldn't blame you for missing the fucking, all the time away from each other made you want it even more. and that tight black shirt, it was just to die for.. and that's all you had to look at as you rode your high, groaning against the flimsy fabric of his pants.

satoru watched as your cum dripped down on to his thigh, he swore your legs were shaking as you sat back down on it. whimpering and pleading eyes that begged gojo for the real experience, “dont be so impatient bunny, you're a good girl right? look at you.. cumming for me.”

“so messy..” he pushes up your leaking cum back inside you before pulling you up on the couch, his slim hands pulling down his pants with a satisfied yet hungry grin. “did so good for me baby, time for the main course. gonna reward you.”

nanami was getting on edge, as he watched you on his lap, moving. your hips slowly rolling, you knew what you were doing and nanami was getting annoyed of it, how could he not? he was working, but nanami was nice enough to cockwarm you, muttering. “you're always so needy when i'm working.”

you couldn't resist the temptation to stop the little cockwarming to roll your hips, he wouldn't mind, or so you thought. but.. its not your fault, it was his long sleeved buttoned up shirt that made you so needy, the sleeves were rolled up to expose his muscular arms, the veins that became visible whenever he typed, god.. nanami is such a huge temptation.

“stop that princess. thought i made it clear that i'll only let you sit on my cock, not ride, hm?” nanami said sternly, a hand snaking up your moving hips to stop them. you whine out an apology, that you really didn't mean to.. it was just, too hard to resist. i mean it was already inside, why not move a little, you thought.

it was nice to tease him a little too.

his warning wasn't enough to stop your need, and after a few minutes you rolled your hips again, feeling the tip of his shaft poke against that particular spot inside you, making you shudder and gasp with pleasure. nanami raises an eyebrow, letting go of the keyboard to snake his hands up your hips again.

you let yourself indulge for a moment till you felt a sharp thrust, catching you offguard. “fine, i'll give you what you want.” the blonde cooed, slamming a few thrusts into you that made you moan.

“don't blame me when your legs hurt tonight, okay?”

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