#if i draw him like someone who worships the ground he walks on no i dont <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hinamie]

it's an icarian curse

p2

[loeh]

Just imagine the Agriche children trying to convince themselves that they aren't interested in milf!reader, who is their fathers young wife.

like okay sure you are near their age but they'd never be interested in someone like you who had given everything up (without your consent) just to become their father's wife.

sure they pitied you but the urge to protect and take care of you was just platonic or was it?

i mean the only reason roxana ever hangs out with you is because in the novel you were said to be one of the prettiest woman and she just wanted to make sure if the novel was exaggerating or not (it wasnt), there is nothing wrong with admiring your fathers wife's beauty although just ignore the lingering gazes on your bosom, after all she is just a growing kid. <3

as per for dion, he never was interested in you but your parenting methods. you would be the only one to raise your children in such a...normal way despite being an Agriche. his fascination started at one of his mother's tea parties (he crashed the party since you were there <3) where he witnessed you shielding your kid from the horrors of his mother's party and going as far to berate his mother for organizing such an event in front of a child. from that day onwards, he had become a hawk who observed you for the duration of time he was in the estate, well hawk who had perhaps become too involved that he forgot he was watching his father's wife satisfy herself with her fingers but evidently failing.

jeremy swore he just wanted to find the woman who fascinated his sister roxxie but to think he walked in on you getting bathed by your handmaidens was just embarrassing for him (he was warned vaguely). he had thought he was done for, when you calmly wore a robe and told everyone to leave, thinking you were surely going to tell his father and sister, but no, instead you had just opted for talking to him in a gentle voice explaining his mistake. sure he didn't like you at all at first but slowly and gradually he too fell for you and well started thinking more about your first meeting, yk the one where you were naked<3

when griselda got to know her father had married a young woman close to her age she was intrigued and just wanted to meet her. not knowing that the woman she'll meet would have been the famous painter, [name]. She was fascinated how the people of the manor did not worship the mere ground you walked on for you were perhaps the talent of the century yet somehow the great artist such as you didn't want her to disclose your identity. this woman was already heads over heels for you, no need to explain and agreed but, won't you draw her like one of your french girls in exchange for your secret? <3

in conclusion, all the siblings came together to protect you from the sky white haired pedelian!

[nouearth]

double-stuffed.

peter parker x male reader x jaime reyes.

summary: nothing bonds two men who hate each other more than a sloppy mouth, and a sloppy hole.

wc: 13.1k. genre: smut. warnings: college au, friends with benefits, top!peter, tasm!peter, jealous!peter top!jaime, jealous!jaime, bottom!reader, threesome, rough-sex, blowjobs, handjobs, double-penetration, dirty-talk, muscle worship, body worship, fingering, ass-eating, mouth-fucking, dry-humping, breeding, eiffel-tower, filthy smut, loads and loads of cum, peter and jaime are rivals, reader is a slut, and reader also has a stretched out and sloppy hole by the end!

notes: how tf did i just write 13k of pure smut. ok well, not pure smut since i added some backstory, BUT. i wrote a lot, like??? hello??? someone check up on me!!!

The cold air breached through the cracked-open window in Peter’s bedroom. It’d been the winter season for months, yet snow had become a rarity with every passing year. It was much appreciated when you saw the ice crystals accumulate and cover the ground until it felt like you were practically walking on crunchy clouds.

Though, despite the weather, it didn’t stop classes from continuing unfortunately.

Another gust of wind blew into his bedroom, and you pressed closer into Peter’s body. Legs entangled with his longer limbs, and he’d bring your front leg over his hip for extra comfort, simultaneously providing himself another opportunity of friction to thaw out his goosebumps.

“Pete…” You muttered into the kiss. It came out in hesitant sputters, breathless as his hips began moving against yours in a lazy yet fruitful pressure. 

You weren’t sure when it happened; Peter had an incredibly poisoning effect on you that blurred time altogether; but your jeans were tossed to the corner, leaving you in your sweater and briefs. He was dressed, or rather undressed, similarly; a blue sweater that contrasted your beige, except his pants were unbuckled down to his knees.

“Why did you open the window? I’m cold.” He muttered back, detaching his lips from yours to settle onto his second favorite part of your body—your neck. 

Peter was observant. He had catalogued sections of your skin that would honor his ears the sweet and delectable sounds of your moans from many times prior. 

Simply kissing your neck wasn’t enough. Licking multiple stripes beneath the underside of your jaw made you stiffen and swallow down any potential sounds. It was a leap forward, but you were resistant to him—at the very least, you did well in feigning it—and he’d start suckling to hammer ice picks at the barricade that had seemingly repelled all of his actions.

“Would help if you had your pants back on, you know—“ You answered after several long moments. Your mind had pivoted to Peter’s pair of lips by now, closing your eyes to the sloppy sounds of his markings as you breathed in the scent of his shampoo.

When he felt a swallow, your adam’s apple bobbing for aid—to catch some sort of breath—Peter could see the barricade crumble, feel his liability in infecting you with desire and lust as he felt a tent forming in your briefs. And he’d bite a mark into your flesh to let you out of your misery, drawing out the poison with several hard sucks until it was bruising. A gasp and multiple drowsy moans of his name heightened his senses and Peter felt his ears redden with heat from how absolutely devouring you sounded.

You felt his hand slip under your sweater and made its way towards your chest, pinching and circling your nubs with gentle fingers.

“Besides,” There was a familiar heat being stimulated with every grind of his hips, every tweeze of your nipples, and you’d thank Peter in between with a motion of your own. A languid kiss accompanied as you pressed intimately close, slowing the eagerness of Peter’s movements as both of your bulges collectively rubbed and throbbed when direct contact was being made. “Doesn’t seem like the cold is affecting you much.”

He chuckled at your tease. “Yeah? I’m just getting started too—“ The same hand that was thawing the goosebumps off your chest cascaded back to its rightful place on your thigh, then to the cheeks of your covered ass before he playfully squeezed and slapped in turn.

You let out a laugh, pushing yourself back onto his palms when he’d begun kneading at your flesh. His eyes were focused on your bitten lips, clearly isolating any more noises that would make his ears burst into flames if they hadn’t already. 

But he was selfish. He needed more of you.

Whenever you pushed back, he pulled you forward, rocking you into him—into the tent forming stubbornly in his boxers. One hand rested on Peter’s cheek and there would be moments where you’d ever so  gently cupped the plumpest section of his skin when you rolled into him just right.

“Fuck, Pete—“ It started off innocent with your hips moving back slowly, languidly into him as if you had no intentions of finishing what you started.

You were spellbound. He tantalized every ounce of thought until he had become the sole proprietor of your brain, leasing you a vitality that you could only repay in pure and absolute pleasure.

“Shit—“ The collaborative movements had enough momentum to coincidentally shift his boxers until the slit aligned with the tucking of his erection, and with one more roll of your hips, you drew Peter’s weighty cock out from the opening. 

“Keep doing that… fuck. My dick’s out.” He was desperate in his demands and equally distracted as he constantly switched gazes between the way your clothed bulge rubbed against his hard-on, and the parting of your swollen lips, to which he immediately seized the chance to slip his tongue inside of you.

He explored you in every way possible, licking inside of your mouth then pursuing your wet muscle in a brief yet sloppy chase, swiveling his tongue around yours until you surrendered into his hunger. His hands remained on your ass, squeezing and kneading at your cheeks as you continued to hump him—continued to hump his cock, your bulge pressing intimidate against his as Peter’s erection was sandwiched between your bodies, providing no window of escape.

“Wait,” You gave him a slight push on the chest when you familiarized yourself with the golden hour streaming past his window, and somehow Peter took your movements to maneuver you on top of him, sitting you on his lap. He kicked off the remaining length of his pants while you searched the surface of his bed for your phone, scoring when you felt a familiar weight in your hand. 

You clicked open to the lock screen as Peter’s hands continued roaming free around your body, practically fucking himself into the barrier that were your tight briefs, and sighed. “Class is in thirty.”

“And? You can make it in time, or skip class? Fuck—I’m close…“ He reasoned and pleaded with his eyes, almost comically desperate.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grounded yourself to falter Peter’s hips to a disgruntled pause. “It’s a twenty-minute walk from here. And I don’t want to keep my partner from waiting! We were supposed to meet up earlier—“

“You seriously giving me blue balls right now? That’s a first—“ He grumbled, unwilling to let you go as his grasp tightened around your hips. It only loosened when you pressed a kiss to his lips again, whispering a soft apology in the delicacy of it.

“Sorry… I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You lifted yourself off of the bed to Peter’s dismay and re-adjusted the tent in your briefs, slipping into your jeans after.

“Partner?” Peter’s curiosity was piqued, only because his courses rarely had group projects beyond the usual lab-work. “Is he nice? She? They?”

He followed after you, begrudgingly rolling off of his bed when the mere mention of your classes reminded him of his own deadlines approaching. He tucked himself back inside of his boxers. Though, a large tent greatly remained.

“He. You might know him? He told me he was in a couple of my classes before then, and those were all the same ones you and I were in.” Your eyes scanned for your books, collecting it into your arms when you found them, then for your backpack after.

Peter gave your shoulder a small nudge and you turned back, finding your backpack hanging by his fingers. “Yeah? Who?”

“Thanks,” You took your bag from him, swinging it onto your shoulder, and then pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Uh… Jaime! Jaime Reyes.”

“Jaime…?” Peter paused in thought, then frowned as if he ate one of your favorite sour candies. “That… asshole in Film Studies?” 

He followed you from behind as you exited his bedroom and headed towards the entrance of the apartment.

“You remember him? I don’t think I even remember what we watched in that class, to be honest. Was he that bad?”

“Yeah… Always dismissed my critical theories like they were completely wrong. Remember how we were randomly assigned a partner and we’d be stuck with them throughout the semester? He was mine! Peer-reviewing was hell with him… ” Peter bitterly recounted the memories as you listened.

There was a puzzled expression on your face that Peter found himself half-humored by, but your gaze snapped into a bright realization, as if the lightbulb above your head had exploded, the more he explained.

“Oh, yeah…! You guys were constantly going at each other when we would do those Socratic seminars. Thank god for you two, otherwise I would’ve been the one debating or asking questions.” You half-joked, but cleared your throat when there was little to no amusement in Peter’s demeanor.

“Well, maybe he thought you were cute.” You attempted to reason. “And that was his way of flirting? Or maybe he was intimidated by another smarty-pants in the class and he was over-compensating.” You snorted, holding onto the wall as you slipped your shoes on a foot at a time.

“Maybe…?” He sighed, observing you as his erection took a painful lap in its journey back to being flaccid. “Don’t take it out on me if you get a migraine because of him.”

“Pft, I deal with you on a daily basis. I can handle anything.” You finalized your outfit with a coat and a scarf around your neck. “I’ll be back!”

“Wait—“ Before you exited, he pulled you back to him by your wrist, grinning. “You got something in your eye.”

“I don’t feel anything—“ Peter took ahold of your cheeks and cradled them in his palms—plump flesh that were warm enough to convince you to skip your class for today and make a blanket fort with him instead. You smiled as he leaned close, centimeters from touching his nose with yours, and you could feel your heart weighing heavier than usual, swelling with ease the longer Peter gazed into your eyes.

And somehow, it didn’t even burst when he abruptly blew into your eye, obnoxiously laughing. “Now you do.”

“Asshole.” You elbowed his arm, his laugher quickly infecting yours, and you bid him goodbye with a peck on the lips. “Do your homework!”

Taking a painful glance at his desk from the entrance hall, piles of textbooks, notebooks, and sticky notes mocked and taunted Peter of his impending deadlines.

He groaned, dragging his feet back into his bedroom and towards his desk. “Can’t promise that.”

There was indeed something way worse than having blue balls.

“You’re still up?” Peter stepped out of his bedroom with a scratchy yawn. The dryness of his throat never failed to rouse him awake around 3 AM. His tousled hair bounced with every sluggish step towards the water filter, pressing a kiss to your cheek mid-way. 

“When am I not…” Your voice was dull and monotonous as you remained fixated on the screen of your laptop, typing away at a filled word document. You had a late reaction to his kiss, turning towards Peter for a kiss on the lips instead—a reward for your hard-work for the day—but he’d already left to chug a glass of water down.

“I thought you were finished with your project by now?” He filled another cup of water before properly joining you on the couch.

Peter’s appearance for the night alerted you to clear your mind and take a breather. Your laptop was shoved off to the side and his arm immediately opened to bring you closer. You could feel the warmth of his gaze glazing over you with worry as he passed his cup of water into your hand.

“Yeah…” You sighed, drinking the lukewarm liquid in tired sips. “Turns out we needed to write an essay per topic, not include the three we’ve chosen in one collective essay.” When you finished explaining, you gulped the entire glass down, and set it on the coaster.

“That’s… tough, and annoying, and I’m sorry.” You and Peter laughed as lethargy devastated him of the vocabulary needed to properly sympathize for you, but his presence was more than enough. He rubbed your shoulder, giving one side an affectionate squeeze as a simple act of support while you leaned into him. “What’s Jaime doing?”

“The same thing. He’s coming over in the afternoon, so we can hopefully finish the rest.” You could feel Peter stiffen. If he had a switch on his body, it was flipped and glued to defense mode because as much as he hated to admit it, he was intimidated by Jaime. 

“Be nice, okay? I mean, what—we were sophomores? We were all figuring ourselves out early on.”

“Hm.”

Peter was intimidated by how much time Jaime was spending time with you in and outside of class; by how quickly you seemed to have bonded over the course of a few weeks; by how intimate you seemed to have gotten with him judging by the fresh amount of hickies displayed on your neck, dethroning Peter’s own set of bruising marks.

It was all his fault—Peter’s. 

He was the one that insisted on whatever you and him have had going on instead of pursuing a romantic relationship like you wanted. There had been many times where he regretted that decision; times where he thought making you his was simply a fleeting thought and nothing more. But it backfired, and regret came back in a full, disastrous, home-wrecking storm of karma.

“Get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” It was Peter’s sudden movements that made you jolt after enduring the long silence. He got up from the couch and walked back into his bedroom without sparing you a glance.

As if the thickened air in the room wasn’t telling enough, Peter’s stoicism solidified your assumption. You sighed a weight that fueled the tension looking free.

He was furiously jealous.

Peter hated how you came back from class later than you usually did. He hated how Jaime’s cologne of cedar wood and musk stung his nose instead of your usual scent of oak moss and citrus peels. He hated how every time he caught a glance of your phone, it was a text massage from Jaime. He hated how Jaime had a bug emoji next to his name, similar to how Peter had a spider next to his. He hated how Jaime had infiltrated your life, to the point of you having to base your schedule around him now.

And Peter hated how every time he was inside of you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Jaime’s cock was buried deep in your ass, how you willingly bent over or spread open for him, how you kneeled on the floor and most likely whined and begged for his cum as you jerked him off, emptying your thoughts of what was left of Peter for him.

For Jaime.

Peter was losing you—losing to Jaime of all people—more and more with every passing day.

But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Jaime…” You whined, drawing out the last vowel of his name as you stretched forward to loosen the tense muscles knotting along your lower back. A groan escaped when the pad of your fingers grazed your toes, and you immediately snapped back when a cramp began to settle in. “Can we take a break? I swear, I’m starting to go blind.” 

You and Jaime have been sitting on the floor, circled around your coffee table in the living room as you both worked on finishing the essays, as well as the accompanying presentation.

“Uh-oh, seems like we gotta take desperate measures then. Who else would hype me up if you go blind?” He joked, then stretched his arms upwards until a loud crackle drew a satisfying groan from him. “Dinner?”

“Uh…” You looked around for your phone, spotting it on the couch you were leaning back against, and clicked the device open to reply to Peter’s messages. “Peter said he was getting pizza for us after class. Should be on his way now.”

[Petey 🕷️]: All pepperoni ok? [M/N]: yeaaaap, can you get pineapple on one side too [Petey 🕷️]: Oh god, I forgot that you’re a pineapple person [M/N]: IT’S GOOD TO ME! 🍍🍍🍍 [Petey 🕷️]: You could dip it in a can of pineapple juice and there would be no difference

[M/N]: shut up, i’m the one paying for it

“Huh, really?” Jaime was surprised, straightening his posture as he took a nonchalant peek at your phone. For a moment there, Peter’s kindness took ahold of Jaime’s pessimism by the reins and pressed a non-existent brake. “That’s… nice of him.” 

Frankly, it was your suggestion to Peter, which surprisingly didn’t take much convincing since it was his favorite pizza joint. All he really needed was a kiss to seal the deal.

Jaime’s gaze flickered between the sprint of your thumbs and your growing smile. Blue and grey colored message bubbles appeared one after another, and the snickers that fostered briefly colored him red. Rather than finding the sound of your voice annoying, it was the person nourishing the joyful noises out of you that ticked him off.

Since middle school, he had always been at the top of his class. Whether it was because he truly enjoyed the subjects in school, or because he wanted to be the hero that pulled his family out of poverty—failing wasn’t an option. 

Then came Peter Parker. He’d been in four of his courses since sophomore year, but it was Film Studies that truly roused a flame within him. Maybe because it was a smaller class as opposed to a seminar like the rest of his classes with him. 

Or maybe because it was his first class with you, absolutely head over heels for Peter.

Peter, who would come into class late because he overslept. Peter, who would fall asleep during a viewing of a film instead of analyzing the mise-en-scene. Peter, who would be awaken by their professor and somehow manage to conjure an answer that would satisfy her—or worse, impress her. Peter, who didn’t have to work hard as him because he was… Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, who was the sole captor of your bright smile that Jaime had preferred over a hot cup of coffee when mornings were tough; the motivation for you to come out of your shell because Peter didn’t want you to be a loner like him; the person you would rely on because you trusted his opinion; the reason Jaime could find the courage to get a word in when he approached you because Peter was always by your side.

Peter, who Jaime could never be.

“Hey,” Your ear twitched as a gentle draft blew into the canal, and you immediately turned to face Jaime, ticklish in your endeavor. “I’m here too.” His lips pressed onto yours, sweet and fulfilling despite there being a bitterness in his tone.

“Sorry…” You murmured, tossing your phone to the side as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and relishing in the softness of his lips.

Jaime let his muscles go limp, immediately toppling over your body once you pulled him close, and your bodies clumsily collided onto the rug with a small thump, a fit of laughter breaking the kiss apart in midst.

He positioned himself on his side after rolling off of you, cushioning your body with one of his arms beneath your back in turn. “Why is your rug comfier than my bed?”

You shrugged, sprightly raising your brows. “Doesn’t stop us from making out on it.” Your hand rested on his cheek briefly before swiveling it over to the front of his hair, brushing it back in one stoke, and settling on the back of his head to pull him face-to-face, nose-to-nose. 

The dark curls of Jaime’s hair fell forward over his forehead in delicate and thick clumps, and you sniffed a familiar waft of spearmint that was pleasant to your senses. “Do that again. Feels nice.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled because Jaime’s voice lowered to a calming whisper, feeling his lips brush ever so slightly over yours—feathery and light like a brush—as you repeated your strokes. Your nails scraped lightly over his scalp, enough pressure to close his eyes and coerce a satisfied sigh out of him, and then another into your mouth when he kissed you as delicately as your touch again.

Every swipe of Jaime’s lips—of his tongue—muted the sounds around you, phased you out of reality, and lulled you out of the migraine you’ve been enduring for pulling an all-nighter. The last sound you recalled hearing was Jaime’s zipper, an enchanting pitch that needed no verbal cue for you to sneak your hand down his pants. The eye-rolling massage at the base of his head was abandoned, but it was immediately compensated when you rubbed and cupped at his clothed bulge.

For a moment, Jaime perfectly fit in your palm, letting your fingers do most of the work without much wrist movement as they pressed and squeezed at the soft lump. As you continued, you gradually felt the lump expand into a meaty mass that had you practically drooling into his mouth because you remember the taste and smell of his thick cock.

And defeated, because you recollected the uncomfortable stretch he’d summon when he was inside of you.

“Fuck.” Jaime hissed when your thumb pressed the smooth fabric of his briefs to the plump glans of his uncut cock, forcing the fabric to swivel his foreskin over the head in tantalizing circles—until thick drips of pre-cum stuck and stained a spot of the white briefs into a deeper shade of grey. “I could come just like this, you know?”

“Would be a waste of cum, though.” You simpered, looking pleased with the effect you had on him. Your hand began stroking the thick shape of his cock, pushing his tuck upwards until the tip poked out from under the waistband, greeting you with a delectable coat of pre-cum when you peeked downwards.

Jaime exhaled a shaky breath, pulling his shirt off. “Knowing you, you’d probably suck it right off the fabric, wouldn’t you?” The starry haze in your eyes; the constant licks of your lips; the harder grasps at his cock to pursue more dribbles of his pre-cum; he recognized the symptoms of your lewd vehemence straight off-the-bat, promptly rolling onto his back and kicking his pants off. 

“Fuck, yeah.” You were famished, absolutely starving from the way you attacked his lips and sloppily explored his mouth with your tongue after straddling on top of him. You pressed onto his bulge, pushing against the center of his briefs with deep ruts until the head of his cock was exposed. Your mouth swallowed every profanity that would slip out of Jaime’s throat, fueling your hunger and channeling it into harder grinds.

He briefly put you on time-out to sit up and help you undress, one article of clothing at a time, beginning with your shirt. Jaime latched his mouth onto the first surface of skin he laid his eyes on. As you lifted your shirt, exposing more of your body, his lips trailed behind the hem soon after. He licked upward in one long strike, then dragged his tongue over the center of your chest, murmuring as you held his head close.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved your body?” It was a sweet confession, some would reckon that it was wholesome, and that was more of a reason why it made your cock throb in strong pulses, begging for your sweatpants to release them for oxygen. He chuckled, one hand squeezing you at your bulge. “Guess I haven’t enough.”

First, he tongued at your nipples, flicking the wet muscle on one nub before moving onto the next as he held you by the waist with one hand, balancing your straddle on his lap, and massaging the print in your pants with the other. Your cheeks ignited into flames when you caught his gaze; half-lidded and drowsy as if the sound of your moans was his lullaby. Then, he gently bit when he figured you’ve been hypnotized by the languid swivel of his tongue for far too long, disrupting the chain of moans into staggers. “Jaime, fuck—“

“Try tugging on them with your teeth.” Your brows furrowed, wrinkles creasing in the middle of the two arches, as you were puzzled by a sudden voice that sounded distinctly different from Jaime’s.

When you met his gaze again, his expression mirrored yours, frowning because your lips never moved when the voice came up. “What did you—“

There was a silhouette that loomed near the open kitchen that pulled your gaze from Jaime and towards the shape of a familiar body instead. Jaime’s gaze quickly followed yours after witnessing your pupils dilate.

Peter was leaning back on the kitchen island, watching with one hand down his pants and a smile that rendered you speechless and frozen in place. “When did you—I-I didn’t even hear you come in—“

“Few minutes ago. Good thing I didn’t miss the miss the show. It was getting good.” 

Before you and Jaime could begin scrambling for your clothes, Peter was already on his way towards the two of you, halting in front. You scanned him from head to toe for any anomalies, a break you’d expect to see if someone was caught almost fucking on their living room floor. What you got instead was a familiar gaze that you’ve accustomed to your own intimacy with Peter, then he lightly tapped his foot against Jaime’s lower back.

“Not the ideal situation I’d like to… meet you again in, but… I will say that I like it a lot better than what I had originally imagined.”

“Seriously? What do you—“ Jaime met Peter’s eyes, an awkward yet heavy tension in the air forming, but once his gaze fell to the center of Peter’s crotch being palmed by his hand, he felt a lightbulb go off. “Ah.” He scoffed, a gale of chuckles following after because of the absurdity of the situation—to cover up the guilt that he found it hot at the same time.

That he actually found Peter attractive.

“Peter, I don’t think this is—“ You reasoned, but Peter deprived your speech when he began stripping off his own clothes. What the fuck is happening…?! 

“(M/N) likes it when you tug on his nipples with your teeth.” He ignored you, nonchalantly repeating to Jaime. Though, it was hard to ignore the dumb-stricken look on your face when he approached closer to you, your confused gaze following his every movement. To appease you, he gave your chin a gentle cup, fondly stroking the center with his thumb as he shared a look that you could only deem as trusting from him.

You only began to relax when Jaime forged his suggestion into reality when he brought his mouth back up to your nipples and gently tugged at the nubs with his teeth. Every pull yanked a moan out of you, but you couldn’t help but feel entirely exposed and ashamed, knowing that Peter was watching you with another man.

It was allowed. Jaime and Peter have known about each other as flings for quite some time now, so it wasn’t like you were cheating, but… why did it feel wrong?

Once Peter stripped himself down to his boxers, he approached your side again for support, a large tent begging for you to release it from the loose restriction of the pattered fabric. Jaime’s gaze curiously followed Peter, watching his every move as he suckled, bit, and pulled at your nipples. He repeated despite the fact that they were swollen in between his lips, gratified that they were becoming perkier with every torment he’d inflict upon them.

Despite the fact that you had given into Jaime’s touch, into Peter’s demands, you looked up at him with concern, a daunting guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders, and he recognized that look with sympathy, assuring you with a calming smile and a soft kiss for good measure.

“Be a good boy for me, and stroke my cock.” Peter murmured lowly, stroking your cheek with doting knuckles, and you felt pacified right then and there. “And when you’re stroking my cock, you’re going to stop being selfish, treat Jaime like the respectable guest he is, and suck him off—got it?”

It was rare for Peter to be verbal like that. It wasn’t him, he claimed once, explaining that it was awkward because it sounded like he was in a cheesy porno.However, even if it was terribly and overly used in those pornos; a porno was a porno, and Peter was turning you on more than ever right now.

You inhaled, absolutely enraptured by what you were demanded to do that you forgot to breathe for a brief moment—but Peter kissed you again as a reminder, and you nodded. “Got it.”

You could feel Jaime throbbing under your clothed ass, his bulge prodding at the center of the fabric in desperate beats, as if he was agreeing to Peter’s ultimatum. Guess the dirty talk got to you too, huh?

As you climbed off of Jaime’s lap, Peter tossed a couple of throw pillows to him for his lower back and his head. Then, he did the honors of pulling your sweatpants off. A collective sigh of relief was heard as Peter and Jaime realized you went commando when your cock sprang free, throbbing and begging solely on the basis of Jaime’s mouth and Peter’s voice.

You knelt on the floor and bent forward, pushing your ass back while you slowly tugged Jaime’s briefs off to reveal his thick, uncut cock, seeping in its own pre-cum. “Pete, look how wet he is.” You slurred on your own drool as Peter knelt by Jaime’s hip, rubbing at his own cock.

“Geez, no wonder you were such an ass. Probably kept ruining your pants—“ Peter amused himself, taking one glance at the flushed expression on Jaime’s face, and chuckled.

“No, that’s not— we’re going to talk about my problem with you later.” Jaime stammered, but then halted when a sigh huffed past the dry of his throat as you took his stiff dick in your hand and stroked, squeezing until his foreskin covered the swollen glans completely and let the pre-cum pool within the folds, and then pulled the skin back and spread the thick coating back over the head again, somehow thicker with every cycle.

“Fuck…” Peter watched in awe, continuing to palm at his erection until the restriction of the garment had become unbearable to sit in. He slipped his boxers off and tossed it to the corner, then positioned his hips to sneak his cock into the palm of your free hand.

There was an expecting look on his face when you glanced over; a brow raised and a nod to his cock that seemingly reminded you of his demands. Balancing on his knees, Peter’s thighs pulsed, his taller height putting more weight on his muscles and making it look all the more sculpted as if he’d selfishly stolen limbs from Michelangelo’s workroom. Even though you’d seen Peter naked more times than you could count, you found yourself staring marvelously at his body. You never noticed how with every stroke of your hand, he sucked in his stomach, to pace his breathing, and his abdominal muscles would naturally divide into sharp, defined lines.

Somehow even more so, when he began thrusting into your fist.

As Peter helped you with one of your tasks, Jaime naturally found himself spreading his legs apart when you began lowering your head. You’d never admit it because out of context it sounded incredibly comical, but you loved cock. If you had to utilize the formal language of your essays, you’d say that you treasured it. It was one of the many reasons why Peter and Jaime loved having you around; why you found yourself on your knees after they returned from a long day of classes; why you’d gotten better at taking them down your throat because it’d become a daily practice, a hobby you’d reckon.  

Because you knew how to appreciate a cock when you saw one, how to make love to one, and you would do anything to make your men feel at ease, even if it was at the cost of your own abandoned pleasure.

“So fucking big…” Your left hand continued to pump Peter’s cock while you shoved your face in between Jaime’s thighs, nuzzling and feeling the warmth of his balls loose over your nose. You inhaled his musk, repeating the deep whiffs of Jaime’s ball sweat, before taking his heavy sack into your mouth and suckling. Occasionally, you’d abandon his scrotum to lick at the underside of his cock as it laid thick and hard—pleading to be tended to—over his pelvis. 

“Shit—fuck, I love it when you play with my balls like that...” You tugged on the stretchy skin with pressed lips to the base of the sack before taking him in again and rolling the spheres over the surface of your tongue like two gumdrops. You watched Jaime writhe as you tongued him, his stomach flattening and then puffing abruptly because he was precisely sensitive over the right side of his scrotum.

Jaime’s weak attempt at controlling himself from spilling a load right then and there was an example of how twitchy and overly-stimulated he could be if you found—played with—the right spot. Thankfully, he found the grace of God to hold it in and reminded himself to breathe; slow and methodical as he watched you with arousing awe.

He switched his gaze over to Peter hazing over you, and smirked. The hard gulps Peter would take, the stiffen of his jaw, the nostrils of his nose flaring up. He was blatantly jealous, scorched by the sun type of jealous, and Jaime got off on that, found himself growing impossibly harder knowing he was victorious in this moment.

Jaime was always good at reading people’s expressions. Even if they had tried to conceal it with a smile, their eyes told a different story. With your mind solely focused on pleasuring Jaime, your hand had gone limp despite still being wrapped around Peter’s own length. 

“Just like that, fuck, baby.” Jaime reached down to affectionately pet at your head, a physical encouragement that stroked a delighted noise out of you, and you’d repeat until his hand gradually fell to the nape of your neck. By the desperate pulses of his hand, his palm slightly angling upwards to push your head forward; you’ve been with him long enough to recognize that he needed his cock sucked.

“Wait,” Peter abruptly spoke up, confident and authoritative, as you let Jaime’s balls go and bent forward an inch more, beginning to hover your mouth over Jaime’s cock. 

You and Jaime curiously looked over. Your mouth parted open to ask him what was wrong, but Peter seized the opportunity to brush past your breath and invade your mouth with his cock, the abrupt aid of his hand surprising you as it leveled your head lower to meet his pelvis. “Just a little warm-up.”

“Peter—“ The gasp of his name was shoved down your throat, immediately coming back up as gargling instead since Peter offered you little time to prepare yourself. You heard Peter let out a strong exhale, his body melting into a limp once again when your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, then the first few inches of his erection the more he pushed your head down. You braced your hands against Jaime’s strong thighs, squeezing harder and harder when it became a struggle to take Peter’s thick cock.

Jaime would’ve called the pain at his thighs unpleasant; your dull nails digging painfully into his bronze flesh followed by a scratch; but all of that was forgiven because of the scene before him and how incredibly hard it made him. Like a scene found in one of his browser’s bookmarks, you were choking on a cock that was too big for you; on a cock that you pathetically had to warm up for before beginning to throat it deeper; on a cock that would be considered a miracle to shove it down your throat in the first place. For a brief second, Jaime had second thoughts on whether you’ve sucked anyone else’s dick but his own. 

Peter offered you little patience, only pulling you back up to take a small breather because you begged him through an incoherent whine that could’ve easily been mistaken for a moan. After a few seconds, you were back downing on Peter’s cock as if you weren’t struggling to take him moments prior. It played out exactly like the plot of his favorite porn scene.

The feigned innocence, the porn star dick, the teary bottom; Jaime’s cock was dripping, envious of the sloppy and warm lathering that Peter was enduring, that Jaime was so close to experiencing again before Peter took it all away from him—because he was fucking jealous.

Jaime’s mouth fell open the exact moment Peter’s did when you pushed your head lower than you did previously, then lower, and it seemingly never stopped until your swollen lips flushed to the furry hairs of Peter’s pubes. “Holy shit, (M/N)…”

“Has he ever deep-throated you before? He’s getting better at it.” It was so nonchalant, Peter’s tone, as if he got to experience your glorious throat every single day. If Jaime digged deeper, he heard a cockiness to it as well.

Something possessed Jaime—a rapturing feeling that made his chest feel funny, his cheeks stain with red, his cock throb with fervor. That feeling again; jealousy.

“Yeah? Give me a try then, (M/N)?” Jaime wet his lips when a large dribble of drool rolled down the corner of your stretched mouth. He met eyes with you when you glanced, beckoning you with a wave of his thick cock then slapping it multiple times onto his palm. The loud smacks were like a spell, and he knew he succeeded when you pulled Peter’s cock out with a delicious slurp.

“Actually,” Peter’s grasp on your head hardened, turning it back to face his cock when his fingers swiped your chin, and shoved his cock back into your mouth, quickly before you could rouse a sympathy for Jaime. “Seems like he’s pretty occupied with something at the moment.” 

“Seriously—“ Jaime watched with one brow raised, irritation written all over his face while stroking his cock to keep himself hard. Thankfully, you saved him from completely going flaccid as you replaced Jaime’s hand with your own, stroking him as you bobbed and sucked on Peter’s cock.

It only lasted a couple of minutes before Jaime got up, still clearly displeased, and for a minute, you’d thought he would’ve walked out right then and there, until he began standing next to Peter instead. You pulled away from Peter’s cock to take another breather, sitting flat on your bottom and then welcoming Jaime with a couple of strokes while your other hand worked at Peter’s cock at the same rhythm and pace.

“Since you’re getting so good, why don’t we introduce something new then?”

“What’s that? Am I sucking two dicks at once or something?” You joked, too distracted wiping the drool off your mouth with your forearm to notice Peter and Jaime exchanging a look that surprisingly wasn’t of malice. It was as if they hit jackpot. Their eyes brightened at the suggestion and the smallest creak of their smiles signaled a sinister connection that puzzled you.

They loved sexually tormenting you.

“Wait. Guys, I was just kidding—“

“If anyone could do it, it would be you.” Peter flashed you a grin, knocking on your lips with the tip of his cock as if it was an entrance to the warmest cock-furnace in town. “Come on.”

“Yeah. You always told me to try out my options first before deciding whether it wasn’t for me. Shouldn’t you follow your own advice?” Jaime hummed, Peter agreeing after, then joined Peter in his mischievous endeavors. He traced the outline of your lips with his cock, smearing your plump flesh with his pre-cum. 

You were apprehensive, looking up at them as they straighten their posture in anticipation. Their cocks stood heavy and intimidating, weighing heavily on your lips, and you were sure if you opened up your mouth in this moment, they would certainly take the opportunity to push past your complaints and fuck your throat again.

“Make me a deal, then.” The salt of Jaime’s cock compelled you to speak, offering him the tiniest licks because you felt bad for abandoning his cock earlier. With your tongue offering him little resonance, Jaime rolled his shoulders back to get some kind of fixture, as frustrating as it was.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, greedily pressing the head of his own cock to Jaime’s so he was spared a few licks of your tongue. It was almost distracting—how the plump tips of Jaime’s and Peter’s cock connected together in thick, web-like strands. You felt yourself give in for a moment, taking both of their cocks into your hands—one in each respective grasp—and mouthed the swollen glans while speaking.

“No more fighting for the rest of the night. And if we’re ever doing this again,” You realized you had the power to control them all along, the power to make them succumb to your demands because without your mouth, who else would they go to? “You guys are going to make amends and be friends. Deal?”

“Deal.” They collectively agreed in unison, a quite comical interaction that you were confident they were going to reel back on their promise once you squeezed a load or two out of them; their minds would be cleared and their decisions wouldn’t be drawn by the simple promise of sex.

“Fuck,” You couldn’t help but compare their cocks as your hands stroked them down in your spit, coating them in a glossy sheen that caught the light above. It was glorious seeing their cocks in this position, with Peter and Jaime towering over you, their cocks sticky and wet from your spit. “Wish you could see what I’m witnessing right now.” 

You were envious that they only had one subject in their center of vision. You had to constantly alternate between Jaime and Peter to make sure one wasn’t feeling neglected. If you presumed they did, you’d recompense through a cycle of sucking their cocks, playing with their balls, slapping their dicks on your face, tongue included, until your cheeks were covered in your own spit.

Whatever they wanted, you’d do it for them because you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing your boys were unhappy.

Peter’s dick was a spitting image of one of those famous male porn stars that you recalled obsessing over; a strong curve to the length with the girth thickening towards the head; it was always a struggle to fit him inside of you. If you had to be modest, you’d call it a handsome cock as natural veins pumped throughout his cock, making it evidently clear where all the blood was rushing to; a natural eye-widener, and a throat closer, for everyone.

Peter liked making sure your face was free of any anomalies. Whether the number of obscurities were the bad lighting in the room, casting shadows in place that masked your mouth, to the locks of hair covering the tiniest bit of your face; you were a wonderful performer that needed to be seen, and Peter was here to ensure that, especially with a guest in the room. 

His eyes casted over you while you went down his cock under the control of his palms. He liked having you follow his rhythm, follow the pace of his urges. If he wanted for you to focus your tongue on the head of his cock, then he’d pull you back at his own time and make sure to pull his hips back whenever you needed a fix of something more. If he wanted you to deep-throat him until you couldn’t breathe, he’d make sure you were on your very last grasp of life before you turned blue.

The sound of your saliva building and welling up in the back of your throat was a beautiful noise to him, one he could hear in his sleep and happily have wet dreams of. You sucked on his cock, slobbered over the weight of it through several coughing fits and chokes, and you made sure to look up at Peter with tears in your eyes, seeking for some kind of approval. He breathed out slow, seemingly controlling himself from spilling all over you right then and there, and found that if he didn’t stop himself now, then you’d never get to Jaime. When he told you to open your mouth and pant with your tongue out like a fucking animal, a wide and dark smile spread across his face. It wouldn’t be absolute control if he didn’t succeed in humiliating you.

“Good boy,” Peter bent over to slap you hard on the ass, a loud echoing smack resonating in the room. You winched, but nonetheless smiled up at him because Peter approved of your skills. “Now, make me proud.” He sent you off with a kiss, roughly patting the side of your cheek where his cock once bulged through, and did you the favor of shoving your mouth down on Jaime’s cock with no warning.

For Jaime, it was as if his own uncut cock couldn’t handle the weight and mass of his meat, making it naturally curve downwards that made it less difficult for you to slide him down your throat. What he lacked in length, he massively over-compensated in thickness and girth. A prominent vein ran down the center, and it made your heart skip a few stones or two when you realized the thick blood vessel was the reason why he built up a delectable amount of pre-cum.

The definition of control was interpreted differently between the two men. Where Peter forced you to suck his cock and move at his own pace, Jaime preferred constraining your head in between his palms and force you to take his cock, like you were some kind of blow-up doll. With a slightly bent posture to properly fit himself into your mouth, Jaime hooked one thumb at the corner of your mouth and stretched it open to accommodate his girth, and fucked into your warm mouth. Your knees felt bruised, burning in agony as you took every one of Jaime’s heavy and selfish fucks with absolutely no complaints. You clenched your eyes tight when he hit a little too hard at the back of your throat, then again, and again, because he loved how you sounded when his cock dented into you. He also loved how you couldn’t contain yourself and let an endless amount of saliva waterfall from your tongue and mouth, making it all the easier to slide down your throat.

“Fuck yeah, dude…” Peter was in awe. You felt one of his fingers toy with the pucker of your hole after he took a scoop of your saliva and spread it over the length. In circular motions, Peter was teasing in his endeavors, chuckling to himself as he felt you clench at the tiniest appeasement. “Think he likes how you’re fucking his mouth.”

“Yeah? There’s room for two, you know.” It was the most they’ve exchanged conversations since the last time they saw each other in class; although this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Jaime pressed his cock to the right side of your mouth, and you whined, giving his thigh a slap because it was a strange and uncomfortable sleeping. He pacified you with a couple of head rubs, then briefly taking his cock out for you to recover your breath.

“Let’s move to the bed, my knees hurt…” You grumbled while simultaneously catching up on your breath. You didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer as you already made your way into your bedroom with footsteps following you from behind.

It only took a few seconds for the three of you to work out your positions; Peter and Jaime laid flat on the bed, with each men taking the opposite end, similar to a bridge. Their legs tangled, thighs sat atop of one another, Peter’s feet at Jaime’s head and vice versa, and ballsacks pressed with the cocks facing towards the respective owner. You were the interconnecting piece, the final key in completing the puzzle, as you sat by the side of their hips. You had Peter on your left and Jaime on your right, jerking them off with your respective hand.

“Comfy?” You asked both of them, nonchalant in tone as you briefly went down to lick at the precum dribbling down Jaime’s cock, then to Peter’s as you caught the strong pulses of his length at the corner of your eye.

“Very much…” Jaime sighed, mirroring Peter’s position and cushioning his head with his arm. Contrary to how they’ve been treating you and your mouth, their gaze had softened as they’d been watching you. Peter had his warm palm running continuously down your spine, while Jaime’s arm traversed around you to take his time in teasing your hole with a finger, slow and sweet like the taunting delicacy of your tongue.

“So fucking big…” You marveled when you pressed their stiff cocks together and stroked out a groan from either one of them. The lights of your eyes dilated into sparkles because you could barely wrap your hand around them with this one grasp, and out of curiosity, you squeezed to impossibly squish them together, effectively earning a needy rut of their hips from Peter, then Jaime, and your throat caught a profanity because it was the hottest thing ever.

Stiff veins pressed into one another and Jaime’s precum made it too slippery for you to properly hold him and Peter without one of them slipping out of your hand. You were growing impatient, and you could see it in their eyes that they were too. Jaime’s was pleading for some kind of warmth, while Peter’s was almost threatening, as if he was about to pass out any second. 

After a couple more taunting strokes, you gave in and appeased them. You lowered yourself, smelling the sweat and musk that both the men heavily extruded through the slurry of pure sex, and shoved both of their cocks into your mouth. At least, you attempted to.

“Oh, fuck—“ Jaime’s eyes widened, then tightly closed because he was overwhelmed.

“Shit…” Peter muttered under his breath, the words leaving his mouth open because he’d only seen this in porn scenes.

It disappointed you, you couldn’t possibly fit them inside of your mouth except for the heads. If only you had a bigger mouth, or maybe knew how to disjoint your jaw muscles to somehow fit them both completely in—but you didn’t. Despite the limitations, you settled on fitting the heads of their cocks and suckling. As your tongue ran over Peter’s bulbous head, then Jaime’s thick glans, you made sure you were stroking what you couldn’t find in your mouth. Instead of lamenting over the loss of a stretch, you marveled at the way it felt when you wrapped your mouth around the glans, then at the way their dicks rubbed against one another desperately, imperfect in rhythms because Peter and Jaime were selfish in their own pursuit of your mouth. 

“So fucking hot, god…” Your internal thoughts came out in a moan, slapping their cocks on your tongue as you stared longingly at each one of them, wanting this very scene to seep into their mind and allow you to be the defining example of a cock whore. 

You then pulled away to dribble bubbles of spit over their needy cocks, lubing them each until you proceeded to struggle to fit them inside of your mouth, only barely being able to push your lips past their heads. You knew they liked watching you struggle, watching you do your best to pleasure them, and it was mutual benefit because you liked having the attention all on you.

“Need to fuck you…” Jaime demands almost came out as a whine, and you found it absolutely adorable considering his meat was weighting heavily on your tongue.

“Fuck, baby, me too… I need to fuck your hole.” There was frustration pent up in Peter’s voice, and he took it out on the grasp he had on your ass, kneading your left cheek until you could mentally picture a handprint on your skin. You winched, pushing out to relieve some of the sting, but Jaime’s hand abruptly smacking down on your right cheek rutted you back.

“Only if you guys promise to dump your loads in me.” You moaned, feeling someone’s finger climbing into your hole again and pump inside of you. Then another, spreading and curling the two joined digits. And another, three now, pumping at a slower rhythm, because your tightening walls were restricting their movements. Peter’s gaze darkened, because he swore you were clenching on purpose to taunt him.

“As if there was any other option on the table?” Peter questioned, rising to sit on his knees, and Jaime would later join. 

“His hole’s made to be filled with cum.” Jaime added with a smoldering expression, flipping you onto your stomach, then provided proof of his comments by spreading your ass cheeks out until you felt completely vulnerable and exposed. You resisted with a few clenches, but Jaime’s grasp on your ass cheeks was forceful stronger; there was a gratification that helmed his palms as he showed off your pucker to Peter. You felt something wet flatten against your opening, rearing you with inquisitive licks and prods like it was searching for something inside of you, “Tastes good.” Opening you further like its intention was to make your body writhe in toe-curling and ass-pushing exaltation. Your back arched into the mattress and you spread your knees further apart, gyrating your hips into the thick, musky air because the slightest draft made your cock harden and tremble with a whimper.

“Fuck, look how tight he is too…” You moaned when Peter curiously slid two lubed fingers into you despite being well acquainted with the tight cavity once Jaime pivoted to licking at your taint, then the base of your balls. The opening of your legs provided enough space for Jaime to sneak his head in between them and take your cock into his mouth to suck you off, holding you steady at the base.

“J-Jaime, fuck—Peter!“ His mouth was warm, strangely comforting, and whimper inducing. You felt yourself sink onto your knees and lie pliantly as you let him take you, as you let Peter invade you with two more fingers; a total of four digits pumping inside of you now; though you made sure to lift your hips up to leave enough room for the man who’s been slobbering all over your erection. 

If only you had eyes at the back of your head so you could witness Peter and Jaime touching themselves, so you could watch Peter’s mouth gape open when he slid his large lubed cock into as if he hadn’t done that countless times prior, so you could see how Jaime’s free-hand guided Peter’s hips to push further into you because they both were well-aware how accommodating your hole can be. It was a struggle to even fit the head of his cock into you, like you’d expected, but you were thankful for Jaime as he gave Peter the push he needed.

“Oh, fuck,” You strained, gathering yourself onto your forearms to toughen out the discomfort—practically planking—as Peter breached himself into you moaning at the tightness, then began moving his hips.

Slow and steady, you felt more of Peter residing into you with every thrust, rocking your own hips to thrust into Jaime’s mouth. It was a messy, interlocking of sweaty bodies, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better. Jaime’s tongued swirled around you, inhaling and working you with a greedy tongue. When he pulled off with an audible pop, you felt his saliva dripping off of the span of your cock in heavy webs, that were then used to lather up his own cock before rolling off the bed to stand before you. He tipped your head back, making you look up at him flushed and intoxicated from Peter’s quickening thrusts, and pushed his cock back inside your warm mouth in one smooth slide.

You didn’t know where to dispose your moans now that your mouth was filled. Once Peter efficiently picked up his pace, he steadied his balance with a firm grip on your hips; the left lag was braced on its knee while his right leg was heeled on the mattress, fucking his cock into you deeper with his new position.”Fuck, I could watch you take my cock all day.”

Your cheeks were hot as your moans ballooned nowhere but around Jaime’s cock. Whimpers and joyful noises vibrated around him as you sucked his cock off, and you’d occasionally lose your balance when you tried to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth, but you caught yourself before you could fall flat onto your face. You didn’t want to waste a single second of not both of your holes filled.

“Fuck yeah, keep fucking him like that.” Jaime exhaled, reaching out to fist-bump Peter as there was a mutual indulgence the two provided for each other. His body was slick with sweat when you noticed droplets of heat running down his muscles. He pumped out a few puffs of breath when he fucked into your mouth quick and desperate, enveloping and pressing your head to his abdomen to keep you steady, to keep his cock from falling out of your mouth because you had a habit of pushing him out whenever he pushed past your limits. Your field of vision was basically hidden as you stared into nothing but Jaime’s trimmed pubic hairs, your passive mouth sore and hurting, and your cock was equally sore—dripping on its own accord now—because you found it so incredibly alluring to be used thoughtlessly like this; Peter selfishly driving himself into you, panting because he was close, and Jaime pushing back into your gags with eager ruts of his hips, a tolerance that you knew would have you sore tomorrow morning, but a fucking comfort to know that you pleasured the two men with your own body.

“Switch.” Peter and Jaime exchanged positions once they knocked out a low high-five. It was on your own terms to flip yourself onto your back in the meantime, hanging your head off the foot of the bed for Peter to mouth-fuck you while you bent your legs up to your chest in anticipation of Jaime. Peter cooed, petting your spit-wet cheeks before leveling himself to meet his cock to your lips, then pushing your mouth open. It was adorable to see how you knew your place without a single spoken demand. “Mm, fuck—Jaime kept you warm and nice for me.”

“Can say the same for you, Pete.” At nearly the same time, Jaime supported himself by using the back of your thighs as leverage, squeezing a glorious amount of lube over his cock before pushing into you. Within the first slide, you were reminded of how thick he was from the way you were too distracted to suck Peter off and let your mouth agape, croaking out a discomforting moan. “Fuck, he’s warm.” He didn’t waste to time in letting you adjust to his size, because—well—Peter did the work for you, and began burying himself deep and close to that certain spot that never failed to send tremors down to the bone of your body.

Jaime snapped his hips with precision, the loud claps of sweating skin snipping at each other being one audible evidence of his experience with you. Your thighs and ass rippled sharply, then your muscles stretched as he pushed forward to fold your knees to your chest and slot his cock into you with momentum, gravitational force pounding him down into you like ocean waves crashing onto shore. Every time his impact moved you an inch off the bed, he brought you back with a tug at your thighs because he needed to be close to you. He needed to watch you gag on Peter’s cock, your throat struggling to close around his girth when it was sheathed deep enough for Peter to bulge through. When it occurred, Jaime showered delicate kisses to the center of your throat, moaning when he could feel the span of Peter moving inside of you, and then feel your throat constrict when he pulled out in a slow slide to draw out your breath for a little longer, to watch you desperately inhale for fresh air.

“Do that again.” Jaime couldn’t resist his temptations, caressing your chest and stomach because it had been flexing the entire time Peter and him had been fucking into you. The darkest desires compelled him to roam his hand towards your neck and wrap it around while Peter buried himself down your compliant throat again, and he squeezed his hand around you, your eyes clenched following the added pressure, while your throat locked around Peter’s juicy cock. Your gags lodged, bubbly in agony because they had nowhere to escape, until Peter pulled himself out what felt like minutes away of seeing the stars, and you immediately spilled into desperate intakes of breath, panting yet moaning because you had never felt such an intense adrenaline rush in your entire life.

Dragging his balls across your face, Peter loved seeing you sexually tormented like this. Red in the face as the blood rushed to your head, delirious on the sole entity of cock, winded through staggered pants as he had you gagging down his cock as if he had a lifetime warranty on your throat. It was beautiful; your words slurred because you were too exhausted to form coherent sentences and he’d use that as leverage, asking you to repeat yourself knowing that he’d deprived you of oxygen. Almost always, despite the promise that he’d let you catch your breath, all of that is thrown in the gutter when Peter sheathed his cock back down your throat like a man who had been cut off of your services cold-turkey, returning back with a vengeance, and as a man who had become a fiend for pleasure.

Jaime and Peter cheered like frat boys you’d see in porn, laughed because you looked so adorable when you asked for a small break; your cheeks were guttered with tears and your voice scattered into puzzled cracks. It was hard to resist coddling you with praises and affectionate kisses, even had they turn up their demeanors to an eleven. You would always be someone they treasured.

“You did fucking great, (M/N), god…” Peter was awe-stricken, rewarding you with a kiss on the lips to breathe life back into you, briefly holding your head up so he could unfurl the clouds until they dissipated for the time being.

“Mmf…” You thought you were a lot stronger than this, but your muscled had turned into jelly. Jaime slowed his thrusts down when he noticed how limb you’ve gotten and he figured stroking your cock again would do wonders for your peace of mind. “Need…” You muttered something under your breath, and for a moment, the two men paused because they thought you’d had enough and wanted to stop.

“Hm?” Jaime did his best to control his hips, panting. Judging by the death grip on your hips, it was obvious he was nearing his climax.

“Need you two…” You groaned out, replacing Jaime’s hand with yours as you switched your gaze between Peter and Jaime, collectively begging for them with the yearning gaze in your eyes. “Need you two in my ass, fuck…”

“God, you know how to make a man happy.” Peter laughed, breathing a sigh of relief, and you swore his cock had grown bigger at the simple thought of sheathing himself inside of you again. “Up, up.” You lifted yourself with the help of Jaime’s embrace when Peter positioned himself under you, and then Jaime lifted your legs up and hooked them over his shoulders, angling your ass out just right after pulling out.

Jaime did most of the work as he was the only one kneeling, whistling an impressive note when your gaping hole was exposed to him, and for his viewing only. “If only you could see this, Peter.” He prepped you and Peter with a generous amount of lube, then himself, chuckling as he stroked himself to the expanded opening of your hole. “We stretched him out real good.”

“Fuck, won’t be too difficult to fit us in then.” It was a rhetorical question that you knew the answer to, and you could feel Peter mischievously smiling into the back of your neck as if he told the funniest joke in the history of mankind.

Peter’s arms traversed around you, his palms reaching to hold your ass open while Jaime intruded into you first. The lube made his entrance a lot easier than the first time and you immediately welcomed his meaty cock with a tight suction, holding his thrusts as you felt the bulbous tip of Peter’s cock prodding around for a gateway into you.

It was a slow and methodical approach. For them, it was more important for you to feel comfortable instead of potentially letting the consequences of rushing everything ruin your experience.You felt flustered, overwhelmed, and your body followed in pursuit as you felt a stretch you’d never dealt with before. The hairs on your body stiffened. Heat spread throughout your body in hot splotches and left your cock limp and flaccid, spidering from beneath layers of skin until goosebumps raised from the sweat when you felt Peter trying get inside of you.

“Peter—oh, fuck—“ Your voice caught in your throat as you tried to open up for him despite the buzzing pain. You were pacified, and then encouraged by the deft of Jaime and Peter’s comforting hands. A pair of Jaime’s calloused hands ran over your legs, then thighs, then stomach, all over your body, to get you to relax your muscles. Another pair massaged your thighs, Peter’s; he whispered sweet and calming encouragements in your ear, dousing the strain of your neck in tiniest kisses while he attempted another push to fit himself in.

“Let me in, come on… We’ll take care of you.” Peter never lied. You trusted him. You trusted him to not hold it against you if you couldn’t. If you decided to stop because it was too painful. You let out a few nervous breaths, your stomach flexing, and then came Jaime, rallying your will with wet yet delicate kisses, just the way you liked it, as a way to distract you. Little by little, you felt yourself give in, your muscles slacking the more they touched you everywhere, including your cock again. Your body was burning with heat not because of apprehension, but because they couldn’t take their hands off of you. You felt deified, like a god as Peter clamped his lips around your neck, his strong hands kneading at your ass, while Jaime moaned into your mouth, electrified by the sweet taste of your wet tongue.

You breathed.

You met Jaime’s gaze, then turned to kiss Peter on the lips after meeting his, moaning as Jaime began thumbing the head of your cock.

You trusted them.

Your mouth alternated from Peter’s to Jaime’s in a heavy and tense session. Greedy tongues reaching for whatever was laid before them, and you were sure Jaime and Peter briefly made out because they were so fucking lost in the heat of it all. Their passion and lust had poured a newfound energy into you within a cycle of heavy kisses. Tongues worshiped your body from the neck and shoulders down, and you felt weightless.

And you let Peter in.

Slowly, your hole stretched to accommodate the incoming cock, and you let out the most heart-swelling and cock-hardening groan when you felt the fattest part of Peter’s glans breached you, then a yelp when the entire cock-head slipped  inside of you abruptly.

“There we go, shh…” Peter’s hand ran down your arms, a sincere attempt to stabilize and calm the trembles in your body. His lips remained attached to the shell of your ear, whispering words that had gone from one ear, scrambling letters into gibberish in the process, and then out the other. “Slowly…” Peter said, more so to remind Jaime, and he nodded with assurance.

They gave you a second to recover while you held tight to Jaime’s shoulders. Sweat trickled down your chest, your spine, framed your forehead in droplets, as you rode the wave of pain. After subsiding the gut-wrenching pain with a few deep breathes, you gave them a nod, giving them the pass to continue.

“Fuck,” Jaime wished you didn’t press your face into his neck as you were sandwiched between the two of them. There was nothing more attractive than watching you suffer, as morbid as it sounded. He thought you looked beautifully broken, sounded beautiful too as you whimpered when either one of them moved their hips. With slow and methodical ruts, they gradually felt you relax with the occasional jerks. Peter’s cock slipped deeper into you when Jaime thrusted out, and gradually, they found a rhythm that worked for your comfort, opening you, stretching you out as their cocks rubbed stiffly against one another. “Feels so good—“

“You’re amazing, baby.” Peter assured you, a motivation for you to loosen your muscles again. He held your ass apart to ease their combative motions in, and once you let go through the careful and spoken truths that Jaime and Peter kept praising you with, the fear that you had latched onto and kept vaulted in the rigid of your body seemingly had been let go—thrust by thrust, you felt yourself opening up and things got much easier for you.

You panted, shoving yourself down and back so you were fully impaled on the cocks fucking you, confronting your fear and winning for Jaime and Peter. You have two cocks inside of you, taking two cocks whole, fucking your tight hole and spreading you open. You reminded yourself because it felt like a dream, whimpering when Jaime began going balls deep with every thrust, and Peter would follow in pursuit, holding your weight up and your ass open. 

Finally, you felt your cock harden again; the span of it springing into a familiar mass, taunting Jaime to move faster as your cock throbbed when he came down onto you, then a few dribbles of precum leaked when Peter came up. They let out a moan when they met in sync, occasionally fucking you with their cocks as one big mass, their voice rattled with rapture because you were taking them in so well, so inviting despite your ability to clench and hold around them. You don’t, because you were fucking free, wiggling your hips without a thought, without a single rhythm in debt to your ass, and the only beat you follow was the sound of your heart as it began to accelerate.

You can hear it soar, decibels rushing loud and alarming in your ears as they fucked and fucked more into you. Cocks rubbed as one, then Peter would purposely delay because he loved burying himself into you as a single unit, grounding your hips to him because you were his first, and you heard shards of spirit break into a gazillion pieces, a barrier that had protected your sanity.

All of that had exploded, fireworked itself into shooting stars when Peter doesn’t waste a second to pound up into you, his breath fogging the back of your neck, then your shoulder when he hooked over his chin to kiss you again, swallowing your whimpers to turn them into his own delectable moans.

Forget holding your legs back, Peter abandoned them and you were on your own, your limbs relying on your own core strength as you struggled to hold them up, while his cock drive madly into you, Jaime’s chasing after in equal, heavy ruts.

“I’m gonna cum—fuck.” You huffed, closing your eyes because you were so close. You felt yourself getting closer relying on the thought that you hadn’t even touched your cock because you were so distracted, so well-fucked that you didn’t need to be touched.

Like that, just like that, keep fucking me like that. And just like that, you cried out and your cock throbbed once, signaling a fountain of cum that would then shoot out of you like lava seconds after, and your pucker would clamp around their cocks moving inside of you, pounding into you. Thick ropes of cum landed over your chest, then on your face when the impact of their thrusts was forceful enough to give it some height, and your hole throbbed around their joined cocks because you relieved yourself with a throat-cutting shudder, goosebumps returning back to form from head to toe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Jaime repeated himself, fucking into you harder, deeper, faster. You felt his heavy pants on your chest when he leaned down to taste your cum, and then witnessed his eyes roll back when the taste was heavenly, a creamy merit that made the ache in his back worth it because you tasted so fucking good. You looked so fucking good, exhausted and melted, taking two cocks in you at once without a single complaint.

“Fuck.”

Jaime’s hands gripped your hips harder, and he let out a deep groan, burying his thick cock deep into you as he came. The weight of Jaime’s strong pulses drew multiple moans out of Peter, bursts of pleasure inflicting on the latter as he fucked into the hot flood of cum, fucking you sloppily with his cum-lathered cock, fucking alongside Jaime’s sensitive and swollen glans, vaulting it from leaking out of you.

It wouldn’t be long until Peter was triggered to let loose as well and spare you of his own thick loads with a raspy groan. He snapped his hips upwards once when he came, then delivered another hard snap to push out multiple strong and thick loads, and then another for good measure, because he was obsessed with how it felt to have his cock drowning in the creamy and warm mixture of his cum and Jaime’s. Your pucker throbbed, both of them completely breached inside of you to the hilt of their cocks, and your ass felt so fucking full—so fucking raw—knowing that you were double-stuffed with endless streams of their cum loads.

“Guys…” Your voice trembled, your muscles giving out as your legs dropped from fatigue, but they wouldn’t stop moving their cocks in you, sloshing their thick cum inside of you. Once your legs dropped, you felt a river of cum dribbling out of you, cold in its journey out of your ass, and you shivered despite being sandwiched by two warm bodies. “Mmf, tired…” 

One by one, they slipped out of you. Peter first, whimpering because he rubbed his sensitive cock against Jaime’s during its removal, making him twitch and shudder. Then Jaime, unwilling at first because you were so warm, but nonetheless unsheathed himself out because he was curious.

You didn’t know what they were doing, nor did you care, because exhaustion had caught up to you, reminding you that you barely had slept the night before, and now the physical strain on your body only added more to the overwhelming drive it could barely handle. You rolled flat on your stomach, nose-dived into the pillows, and then whined because a pair of hands wouldn’t stop kneading at your ass, spreading them wide open for your hole to expose itself.

And when you looked back over your shoulder, Jaime and Peter had their phones out, snapping photos of your violated hole; gaping and raw, and breached as cum was spilling out of it like a leak. It was the fucking hottest thing for them, mouth-watering, and when you scoffed and scanned their sweaty bodies, you swore their dicks twitched.

“You fucking rockstar.” Peter laughed, love-tapping your asscheek before joining you by your side. His hand never left your ass, a strong urge to relieve the pain, if you still had any, with comforting rubs and squeezes.

“Didn’t hurt you too much?” Jaime asked, smoothening his palm along your spine.

You silently shook your head, murmuring. “It was a good bonding exercise, don’t you think?” They laughed, and for a brief moment, Peter and Jaime exchanged a cordial look towards each other, approving the other with a firm nod.

“To new beginnings.”

Jaime joined you from behind, feeling an arm traverse from under your stomach, and pulled you closer until you were on your side and he was spooning you. You could hear both of their heartbeats running at full pace, then slowing as they sank their heads into the pillows, their breathing becoming shallow as they were just beginning to recover from their exertions. Gradually, Peter’s hand stopped rubbing your ass and after you looked back to see if Jaime was asleep, so was Peter, drifting off with a warmth that you wished would stick by you for eternity.

“To new beginnings...”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[headkiss]

anna <3 honey <3 hiii <3 i have a request if you’re up for it?

inspired by your latest shy!reader x eddie fic where it’s her first day at hawkins high— shy!reader being all heart eyes for eddie who pretty much worships the ground she walks on but somehow is oblivious to her feelings even though he flirts constantly just to see her get flustered. he doesn’t notice she’s only all sweet and giggly and nervous around him, though. she’s generally extremely shy so eddie figures that’s why, but it’s truly because she’s head over heels for him 🥹 a cutesy friends to lovers

harmonia my love !!! thank u sm for requesting i hope u like it this one’s for u <333 (the other shy!reader blurb) | 0.7k of fluff and shy!reader

You walk the unfamiliar halls in search of your next class. So far, unsuccessfully.

There’s a debate in your head: is it more embarrassing to be late to your class because you couldn’t find it, or to ask for directions like you’re a tourist in a new city?

You figure that embarrassing yourself in front of a class full of people is much, much worse than just one person. The next part is just figuring out who to ask.

Deciding to avoid any groups (even looking at them makes your heartbeat jump a little), you scan the hall for anyone that looks approachable.

For some reason, you land on the boy with long, dark curls and a tattoo of bats on his forearm. Yeah, super approachable. He’s alone, leaning next to what you’re guessing is his open locker.

You force your feet to carry you towards him.

“Sorry, could you maybe tell me where English is?”

“Wha- oh.” Eddie turns around to find you, a face he's never seen—a pretty one, at that—talking to him of all people. “Hi. Yeah, why don’t I walk you?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Your voice is soft, quiet enough that Eddie probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t so focused on listening.

“Who’s your teacher?” You tell him, and he smiles, “me too. See, I’m going there anyway. It’s no problem.”

It’s then that you’re hit with the realization of how attractive he is. His eyes and the lashes that frame them, the smile that’s extra sweet compared to his style, the guitar pick that hangs from a chain around his neck.

The best you can do then is nod, untucking your hair from behind your ears to try and hide your face.

“So, why’d you move to Hawkins?” He asks, shutting his locker and nodding for you to follow him.

“Um, for my mom’s work.”

“Yeah? Do you like it here?”

“It’s different.”

You stick to short answers, not because you don’t want to give him better ones, but because you’re terrified of doing something you’ll kick yourself over for days.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, sending you a wink.

You laugh softly, a girlish giggle. It’s music to his ears, and he plans to draw the sound from you again and again.

You nod, looking down at your feet in the silence that follows, unsure how to fill the gaps. In your distraction, you bump shoulders with someone. A boy, probably an athlete, because it’s enough to knock you into Eddie.

He holds your upper arm gently to steady you, his hand warm, his rings cool.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

Despite your answer he keeps his hand where it is. He’s not dragging you along, nor is his hold tight. It’s so soft that you peek down at your shoes again to hide the look on your face.

Eddie thinks he might have dreamt you up. You in your sweet dress and mary-janes. You with a small smile he wants to see widen. He thinks you’re adorable, and he plans to keep talking if only to make you cutely flustered again.

He drops his hand from your arm when you make it to the door of your classroom to hold an arm out welcoming you inside. You miss the warmth of it.

You sit down at the back of the class, in the corner closest to the windows, hoping it’s not somebody else’s spot.

Eddie follows you and sits atop of your desk until the bell rings.

The teacher walks in and seems to notice Eddie’s presence right away, “Munson, what are you doing in my class?”

“I thought you had this class?” You whisper. He sends you a wink in return.

“Just visiting, sir,” he says, standing up and letting the attention fall on him. He can tell you’d be uncomfortable if it was on you more than it already is as a new student. Besides, he’s used to it, even if it’s usually in a negative way.

“Get to your own class, won't you?”

Eddie salutes, strolling to the door seemingly without a care at all. You watch him the whole time, and just before he turns the corner, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at you.

Did he really lie about being in your class just so you’d let him walk you? You sink down in your chair and smile at your desk.

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch5 - Yan!SatoSugu x Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: lactation kink, mommy kink, exhibitionism, piv sex (protected), non-con (w/ geto, more gojo-centric stuff next chapter)

After the first time, Geto can’t get enough of you.

As someone who prides himself on being a principled man (the definition must have changed over the years…), he does follow through on allowing you a week of recovery before picking back up where he left off. He’s become bolder now. Makes you sit on his lap with his cock buried inside your pussy (protected, of course), as he gazes upon his non-sorcerer followers while they worship the ground he walks on, kissing at his feet, kissing up his ass.

He doesn’t seem to give a damn if he has spectators when they’re non-sorcerers. He can’t care less, even. Almost as if him pleasuring you is yet another way to impose his power over them. They’re all beneath him, and they can all bear witness to how well he can draw pleasure from you.

“Mamma,” he drawls as he secures his slender arms around your waist. “Observe them. Look how they kneel before us. They know you’re special. Exceptional. After all, not just anyone, especially not monkeys like them, get to have me all to themselves like this.

“They don’t get to know how good you feel,” he goes on, his hips bucking as he hits that right spot, and you can’t even hold back the low moan rumbling from deep in your chest. “They’ll be so close to you, but no cigar. Watch them while I fuck you.”

Your pupils dilate as your lower lip quivers.

“Suguru?” you whisper, but his possessive hold on your waist tightens as a snap of his hips fills the air, and you’re gasping again, his cock keeping you full and brushing against that right spot again and again until—

“—Come for me,” he demands in a low, sultry growl. “Let them see.”

Your walls clench around his girthy cock and you come down from the high in ragged breaths.

He pecks your forehead. “Good, Mamma?”

You reluctantly nod, twisting your head around to kiss him. You tell yourself to play into this, to keep pleasing him. “Yes, darling.”

“Then let’s go again,” he whispers, fingers spreading your pussy. “Look how wet you are for me. How wonderful.”

His fingers circle your clit, drawing a gasp out of you.

“Suguru…” He groans when his name slips from your sweet lips, as he buries his head into your shoulder. “The prayers are almost done.”

“Are they?” Suguru’s eyes rest on his devotees, who have remained in a kneeling position since their last prayer. “Dismissed, all of you.”

The devotees waste none of their valuable time emptying the room.

And Geto wastes no time in disrobing you so he can feast his eyes on his pretty trophy.

His lips seize yours as he pins you beneath him, his body melding and clinging to yours like a fitting puzzle as he mouths down your neck. His cock is still rock hard inside of you, and his fists are clenched on either side of your head as he maintains a moderate rhythm. He doesn’t seem too keen on the idea of finishing just yet, but he’s proven before that he can last hours without coming. More focused on seeing what kind of reactions and sounds he can coax out of you with every little thing he does, almost like he’s studying you, figuring you out. Understanding what gets you going. Almost…

Almost as if you matter at all.

He grunts as your walls clench around his stiff cock for a third or fourth time now; you know better than to keep count at this point. He’s thorough, tossing out the used condoms and replacing them each round. He wants to ensure no accidents. He’s not interested in breeding more. It’s unlikely any of that will work out in his favor. It’s for the same reasons he’s settling on a non-sorcerer partner.

It’s funny how easily you can adapt to even the worst of situations. He noses into your neck again, inhaling your perfect, natural scent—he seems so drawn to you, yet you can’t even fathom the reason why.

“Suguru,” you moan unwittingly, and he growls into your ear.

“Yes, Mamma?” he replies, nibbling on the shell of your ear.

“Please,” you beg, mouthing at his jaw to appeal to him. “I don’t think I can…”

“You can, Mamma,” he assures you with a low hum. “You’re most beautiful like this.”

His hips snap as he thrusts a bit harsher into you, and your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging deep into his flesh, but he can feel you tremble beneath him, desperate to flee from his grasp but you know you can’t go anywhere.

“You’re so beautiful,” he goes on, rolling his hips as he thrust into you again. “Knowing your place.”

Another snap of his hips, and you arch your body into him, as he coos encouraging words to you, pleased by such a reaction. You hate yourself, biting back the curses you feel threatening to spew from your loose cannon of a mouth, but you can’t upset him in moments like these, or ever. Not unless you want your situation to get much, much worse than it already is.

“But darling, you’ve already made me feel so good,” you mumble, as your timid eyes meet his steely violet gaze. “We can rest now.”

“No, Mamma,” he sighs as his brows knit into a disapproving scowl. It almost makes you shudder. “You don’t get to decide when we stop. I don’t want to stop.”

“Suguru…” Your fingers drag down his hips, resting at his waist. The protests die on your tongue as he shoots you a warning glare, and your defenses shut down entirely. Your body already feels like jelly. He takes his time with you, making sure you finish. The worst part is how good he can make it feel even if you desperately wish to reject it.

You almost find yourself not entirely hating it. Yes, for a while, you have desired something like this, but obviously consensually and with a partner you fully trust. You won’t ever come to trust Geto, but maybe that doesn’t matter anymore.

A breathy whine escapes your lips as he nips your collarbone, already marked up with bruises and hickeys. He doesn’t hold back. His fingers reach your neck to fiddle with the gold chain he gave you, resting his chin between your breasts as he admires your aroused, debauched state. Even if you don’t admit it to him, he knows how good he makes you feel, and that alone seems to be enough for him.

“Let me get one more out of you, Mamma, and then we can rest,” he vows, kissing between your breasts before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue lapping around the bud as he picks him a faster, harder rhythm.

You don’t stop the chorus of sounds you make; that seems to make him happy. That’s what matters now.

Things don’t quiet down for you. Whenever the mood strikes for him, you find yourself locking with Geto at any open opportunity. And you mean quite literally any open opportunity. You find you’re already used to it. There’s no reason for you to dwell on the things you can control, and only on the things you can…which is still very limiting.

You can’t allow yourself to drift off too much in thought in the presence of either Tweedledee or Tweedledum, either. You’re constantly on high alert. You have to be. They always want to be all over you, no matter what. You don’t remember having even a moment to breathe when they just want to take, and take, and take.

Geto is away on some business with other members of his ‘family.’ During which, Gojo has stopped by, and Geto entrusts him to remain hidden from the cult members. You’re found in the underground again with his long arm looped over your shoulders as he makes you binge watch some of his favorite movies.

At least he’s not handsy with you this time, you figure, but he does enjoy keeping very close to you. Probably he knows it best not to overstep when Geto isn’t present in the room with the two of you, and there are probably other rules to this arrangement that you aren’t aware of yourself. Not that it matters anymore what you know or don’t know.

“Satoru…” you start in a concerned tone. He peers at you while lifting his sunglasses slightly, his lips parted as he waits for you to continue. “You seem kind of wound up.”

Testing the murky waters, your hand ghosts over his lap where there’s a visible tent growing, and he shudders before grasping that hand to stop it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I am, a little bit,” he admits, as his eyes flit to the gold chain around your neck before meeting your eyes. “But that’s nothing for you to worry about right now, Princess.”

You do notice him gulping at the idea of playing with you.

“Don’t you want to do something about it?” you insist, “Or does Suguru keep you on a tight leash?”

Gojo absently runs his tongue past his lips as they twitch into a half-hearted smirk.

“Something like that,” he replies, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss along your knuckles. He’s allowed this much, at least. Just nothing too overt while Geto’s gone. “I promised to play fair.”

“And you still are,” you point out to him in a syrupy sweet tone, peering up at him through your lashes. “Right?”

His breath hitches again. You can see it through those brilliant blue eyes of his—he’s warring with himself, teetering over a dangerous edge he knows he shouldn’t jump off.  Not unless he wants to invite a certain kind of Hell to himself. He wants to act on his own desires, and you want him to, if not for no other reason than to piss Geto off further because what other way can you get him back right now?

But to your utter shock, he relents, keeping his hands away from less modest places. Your mouth is agape. He actually does have some self-restraint, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, but you’re disappointed as all Hell.

“We can’t, Princess,” he finalizes with a pout. “Not without Suguru here.”

Ah. So there are rules to the arrangement you don’t know about then. You still don’t understand their weird dynamic, but you have to accept that you probably never are going to understand. All you can do is make inferences, at best.

“Even if I wanted to do something, Satoru?” you ask, tone so innocent, that it even surprises you. “You wouldn’t deny me, would you?”

“Don’t,” he warns, his lips pressing into a thin line as he loosens his grip on your hand. “You don’t want to get on his bad side. Believe me.”

You cock your head to the side as your brows furrow in contempt.

“What do you mean?” you reply, “What would he do to you? Doesn’t he love you? I mean…”

Not like you really know anything about either of them.

Gojo sighs, smiling at you, but it doesn’t go to his eyes. Uh oh. There really is trouble in paradise for them. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, remember? Just—we—you have to listen to him, okay?”

You nod, nuzzling into him, which he happily accepts and returns, burying his face into your neck.

“Okay,” you mumble, but then add: “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“Baby,” he sighs again, his patience wearing thin with you, and himself. He wants to so bad, and you wish he would, but he won’t, and you can’t stand the fact that it makes you angry. “We can’t.”

That’s your signal not to push the matter further. You have all you need to know. Better not to continue whacking the hornet’s nest, right? You can always find other opportunities for that.

With another sigh, and feeling rather bolder than usual, you slip into his lap, allowing him to cage you into his arms as you rest your head on his chest.

“So sweet for me,” he murmurs with a contented sigh. “I feel all special knowing you like me more.”

You say nothing because it isn’t true, and he tightens his hold on you as on the screen, the main character of the movie is just about to encounter their enemy.

It isn’t true. You hate him as much as you hate Geto.

When Geto returns, Gojo still doesn’t make a move or get too handsy. Geto doesn’t seem very in the mood to engage in anything with him, requesting him to get back to that organization he works for or something before they start suspecting things. You don’t know what that’s about but you don’t realize you’re going to find out more than you care to know about it in just a few moments.

“Satoru didn’t do anything with you while I was gone?” Geto inquires as he guides you back to his bedroom.

“No,” you tell him, “He listened to you.”

Geto sighs through his nose as he gestures you to rest on the bed. You follow his silent order, careful not to push any buttons (not yet, anyway). You have noticed that he’s only vulnerable around you, and you don’t know if that’s flattering or not. It almost likes he expects you to be the answer to all of his inner turmoil, and you’re no trained therapist.

Maybe he just wants someone more emotionally available than him or someone like Gojo who seems stinted in more ways than just socially?

“I haven’t been happy with him lately,” he explains, averting his gaze to a far corner of the room. He seems to hold quite a bit of apprehension over something, and you don’t know what it’s about, but maybe if you can find a way to coax it out of him… “Not because of this, not directly, but because he’s been coming here more than he should be. I’m just worried about how that might look for him. I don’t want him to unnecessarily complicate things for himself.”

He disrobes and sets the clothing aside before joining you, securing an arm around your waist.

“Suguru?” you whisper, daring to inch closer to him and resting a comforting hand on his knee. He returns the gesture, resting his hand over yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, little dove,” he answers as he pecks the tip of your nose. “These concern matters that are well out of your scope.”

“Okay,” you reply, fretting. They keep saying that shit, but you don’t know what they mean by that. You’re trying to understand more about this weird world you’ve been thrust into because of them. “Is there…um…is there anything I can do for you, darling?”

You resist flinching at how you address him. God, do you loathe it, do you loathe the way it doesn’t sit right in your soul the way you try to keep sucking up to them both. It’s the only way for you to get anything out of this right now and yet…

An adventurous finger brushes over an erect nipple of yours through your bra, making you shudder from the contact.

“Always,” he responds in an eager growl. Impatient hands fumble to unclasp your bra, flinging it behind his back before latching his mouth onto an erect nipple. The action knocks some air out of you, and you cradle his head, stroking your fingers through his long, thick locks of hair.

His fingers massage your stomach as he leans you back into the bed. All you hear is the gushing of your milk and the glorp, glorp, glorp from his eager, desperate slurping. Soon his fingers dare to trail lower, slipping into your panties to rub your clit.

Each brush of his tongue against your nipple sends an unwanted jolt of pleasure through you. Your breathing is broken; the tension in your muscles even seem to relax even though you know you shouldn’t let your guard down. Not around him. Not around the man who has taken everything. 

You find it feels too good. He knows how to make your body feel good and you hate it so much.

If it means he softens up to you a bit more, therefore you might learn more…it might be worth it. Or it might not be worth it. Either way, what else can you do right now? You’re at a complete loss—running into walls. It’s already the dead of winter and you’re still trapped here with no way out. (Not yet, you hope, you still cling onto that hope.) All because of one fucking decision.

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you draw a bit of blood; he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth with such desperation, such desire, it’s making you feel a strange tingling sensation throughout your entire body. You feel warm everywhere. Something you have never felt before. You can’t tell if it’s a good thing or if it’s a bad thing…and in combination with his fingers drawing lazy patterns around your clit and between your sensitive, gooey folds certainly drenched and overflowing in your fluids…it’s all too much. The air between you feels heady, weighing down with a kind of need you don’t know if you should voice out loud. Because you don’t want it from him.

But what choice do you have right now? You’re absolutely at the palms of his hands.

And he’s literally drinking up every moment of this.

“Suguru…fuck…” your voice pitches higher toward the end of your words and he chuckles, the vibrations around your nipple making you wriggle in his grasp. You find yourself grinding into his fingers for more of that delightful friction, and you can’t believe this, you can’t believe yourself, so desperate for his touch because it’s become familiar to you now and in such a short time frame. How long has it been at this point?

“Mamma,” he growls into your skin. “So good for me. So perfect. Fuck.”

He peppers kisses all over your plump mounds, nipping and biting at any unmarked skin he can find.

“Please, Suguru…” Your legs are on fire. You hate it. You hate it because he’s making you feel helpless, desperate for more. Desperate for…

“Suguru…!” Your orgasm dies as quickly as it washes over you, and you’re still needy.

“Mamma,” he murmurs, tone a bit sultry while twirling the tip of his tongue around your drenched nipple. “Can’t get enough?”

“Fuck me,” you fight back a wince as you say it. “Please…”

His eyes widen in delight. “I knew you’d come around, little dove.”

He doesn’t waste time prepping himself for you. His cock is fully erect, leaking and swelling with need to be inside of you, and after wrapping his size in a condom, he lines his head to your fluttering entrance. You suck in a breath, fingers digging into the silk sheets beneath you.

He finally breaches you, sliding his length inside with ease, cooing at you as you try to will your body to relax. It’s easier to take if you relax. He feels massive, he is massive, and you’re not used to it still.

“That’s it, Mamma. You’re being so good…”

“Suguru…” A hand reaches up to rest on his bare chest, and he grunts in response.

“Good, Mamma,” he purrs, leaning in to kiss you. “Let me make you feel good.”

Each languid roll of his hips sends a wave of that delicious pleasure-pain you could barely replicate on your own. A part of you enjoys the stretch, the slight burn, the way his size brushes against your gummy walls as they desperately clench around him. A part of you, can’t get enough of this either. It’s a horrifying thing to accept, but what does it even matter anymore?

A final plunge and you come, him following shortly thereafter.

He waits for a moment, exhaling softly before he pulls out, disposing of the used condom.

He scoops you into a protective hold.

“Let me take care of you… Mamma.”

Things quiet down again for a little bit. You're seated in the living room on a cushion while Geto is sprawled out on one of the sofas. The girls have been introducing you to a lot of different video game franchies, and their most favorite, you come to learn, is Animal Crossing.

“Come on, Mimiko! This wallpaper will look way better in the living room!” Nanako pouts as they fuss over their shared 3DS.

“But that goes against the whole aesthetic!” Mimiko shoots back, snatching the device out of Nanako’s hands.

“But I like this one!” she whines again, trying to reach for the 3DS but Mimiko keeps it just out of her reach. She pouts again, and Mimiko sticks up her nose as she manipulates the playable character in the game, decorating the space they’ve been arguing about for the last hour or so now.

“Then just save it for another theme we can do once we finish decorating the house!” Mimiko chides, “We kept to the cottage core aesthetic, remember? This one is super grunge and won’t work!”

You smile to yourself at their banter, while you attend to some household work. Geto has seated himself on one of the plush velvet sofas while skimming through a book he’s already read a few times. This is the most normal things can feel in a situation like this.

The twins are on another Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer high, huffing and puffing at each other because they can’t settle on anything. You’re not one for video games yourself, either, not anymore, so you’re fine and perfectly content with just watching them, occasionally giving your input when they care enough to ask.

Soon you feel the weight of someone sitting next to you on a cushion. He breathes down your neck like a dragon, and you look up to meet stunning violet eyes, shimmering down at you with something akin to affection.

“You seem pleased,” he remarks, trailing a finger up your arm. Yeah, you agree, until he invades your personal bubble. You still maintain a kindred smile.

“I am,” you say, shutting your eyes as he leans in for a quick kiss. “The girls are fun to be around.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” he replies, brushing his finger down your cheek. “I’m glad it looks like you’re finally settling down.”

Not quite, you think. I’m not letting my guard down. I will find a way to fight back.

“Do I make you happy, darling?” you ask, just to butter him up. You don’t give a fuck yourself.

“You make me happiest,” he answers, pecking your lips again.

“Geto,” a voice calls, catching both of you off guard.

Suda enters the room alongside Miguel, who flashes you a glance in recognition. Geto frowns, tossing his head over his shoulder to see what they might want.

“Your presence is requested. There’s been some issues with other members that must be addressed,” Suda explains. Still frowning, Geto rises from his seat with an irritated sigh.

“I’ll be back,” he announces, “Miguel, you keep an eye on them while I’m gone.”

“Fine, fine,” Miguel grunts in response as he retreats to a far corner of the room. Mimiko and Nanako are now fussing over how to decorate another area of their island. Their voices are practically background noise to you while Geto excuses himself to follow Suda.

Once he leaves, you peer curiously at Miguel as he observes you and the girls. You offer a small smile to acknowledge him, but he doesn’t react. Just stands guard, doing what he’s instructed to do with no questions asked or any qualms.

What a mystery of a man. Why does he work for Geto?

Nanako calls your name and your attention averts back to the twins.

“Do you like this color or that color better?” she asks, and giggling, you answer them while you continue to watch them play. Not without still stealing a few curious glances at the silent, strong man just wallowing in the corner. He probably has better things to do than babysit you and the twins, but he does whatever Geto tells him to do because he seems to respect him a great deal. You really wonder why that is.

Frankly because while Geto may be a powerful sorcerer, he’s still a man, and a pathetic one at that if anyone ever found out what he’s forced you into…

Your name is called again and you try to stay in the moment. Better to do that than to dwell. You beam at the twins while they hand the 3DS to you so you can mess around with the character. They do make quite an effort to make you feel like you’re really part of their family, and you can find some comfort in that.

The twins aren’t the problem, not exactly, but their adoptive father sure is.

After some matters have been settled, Geto finds Gojo after leaving you and the twins under Miguel’s guard. It’s becoming a bit rarer now for it to be just the two of them, and Geto’s come to miss these moments. As much as he enjoys spending time with the both of you together, he wants one on one time with Gojo, too.

He does wish Gojo would prioritize himself a little more, though. They’re tangled up in bed together, something familiar, something warm, and Geto wishes things could be simple between them again but when he thinks about it, their world never has been all that simple. They have been both raised to be tools to the world of jujutsu, and Geto will no longer stand for it. Gojo shouldn’t either, but he seems more keen on the idea of raising the next generation of sorcerers so they’re not like the two of them or what’s become of the rest of their classmates.

Their hands are interlocked between them. They just enjoy the stillness during these moments. They rarely get to anymore. Especially not Satoru, what with raising the Zenin brat he chose to adopt for reasons unknown to Geto (other than the fact that he might become a promising sorcerer). Then there’s also the fact that he can’t hang around as long as he should be…

Speaking of which…

“I know you don’t want me to be here so often,” Gojo tells him, breaking the stillness. His voice is tender, soft, as he nuzzles his face into Geto’s chest. “But I just—I don’t want to leave you, okay? I don’t give a damn about those fucking geezers. You know they can’t do anything about this anyway. Only I can.”

“I do want you here,” Geto retorts, cupping his face, fervent lips kissing his and when he pulls away, his gaze bores into Satoru’s. “Don’t misunderstand me, Satoru. I want you here. But you can’t be here so much. I don’t know how you’re juggling your responsibilities between Jujutsu Tech and risking it all to see me. I’m not worth it, Satoru.”

“Don’t say that,” he begs, brushing his fingers through Geto’s hair. “Please don’t say that. You’re more than worth it. You’re worth risking everything for me. Why do you think I’m helping you with her?”

“I know,” he replies with a defeated sigh. “But you have to remember where else you’re needed, Satoru.”

“You’re the most important thing,” he reassures him, kissing all over his face. “Everything else can wait.”

Suguru bites back a groan. “Satoru…”

Satoru visibly deflates as he pulls back.

“I really can’t convince you to come back, huh?”

Suguru shakes his head. He can’t ignore how that seems to upset Gojo; it’s getting to him ore than it should. Maybe Satoru’s right—his resolve isn’t all that unshakable after all. “Going back there would make me undo all the work I’ve done to reject their ways.”

When realization hits, Satoru hums in acknowledgement.

“You don’t actually hate non-sorcerers, do you?” he murmurs, as his eyes cast downward. “It’s all just a coverup for something bigger, isn’t it?”

“No, not quite,” he admits, “But I’ve made my choice.”

Satoru doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s true; Geto has already gone too far to change his mind about anything he’s been doing. Still…there has to be a way around this. There just has to be.

Gojo’s going to find him a way out.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I like the kink hcs you did for Arthur and the boys. What about kink hcs for some of the less popular characters?

Kieran, Sean, Micah, Eagle Flies?

Maybe a sprinkle of Lenny, javier, hosea?

Kink HCs Ft. Kieran Duffy, Sean Macguire, Micah Bell, Lenny Summers, Javier Escuella, Hosea Matthews

I've done Eagle Flies a few times already so I'll stick to these guys hehe. Also finally someone else who thinks Hosea is fine HEAR ME OUT YALLLLL

Warnings: pet play, humiliation, voyeurism, rough sex, name calling, impact play, marking, knife play, blood kink, bdsm, sadomasochism

Kieran Duffy

Surprisingly kinky, and incredibly submissive

I feel like he'd be into puppy play

He's just a sad, wet, and pathetic dog

And I'm talking leashes, collars, maybe even muzzles

You can order him to do just about anything

He'd probably be into humiliation. Will bark if you ask tbh

Part of that would probably involve public sex and the embarrassment that would come from the possibility of being caught

So low-key a voyeur maybe maybe just a little

If you've had a long day just go ahead and take it out on him during sex because he'll love every second of it

Orgasm denial and edging is definitely on the table

Until you have him swearing he's a good boy and deserves to cum

Sean Macguire

This man will do anything as long as he gets to cum

Though he'd probably steer away from the heavier kinks

He's into body worship. Not for his own body but yours

Kisses every inch of skin and appreciates your entire being before and during the act

He'd kiss the very ground you walk on tbh

Likes dominating but he doesn't mind taking things slow and kissing your feet and legs while you talk about your day

He's a real fun guy so I'd imagine he'd also like some form of roleplay. Ends up being really silly but plays his part real well. Makes sense his favorite roleplay scenario would be cop and criminal

He seems like the type to have fuzzy pink handcuffs LMAOO

Micah Bell

Let's be realistic he's probably into some freak shit at your expense

Rough sex always. Ain't no sweet and slow love making

Definitely into degrading

Hair pulling, slapping, spitting in your mouth or on your face, etc

Probably into spanking

Will "punish" you for just about anything

Lots of spur of the moment sex, like y'all will be in a public area and he'll suddenly want to take you

Name calling !

Whore, bitch, slut are commonly thrown around

Marking, you will always be bruised or have teeth marks and even scratches

Lenny Summers

He's such a sweetie, I have a hard time imagining him being very kinky

He'd probably be into some more gentle shit

Y'all would go through your more experimental phase

He's wholesome so he'd like praise, and that would go both ways between you two

Would let you order him around but more so he can learn what you like and what you want him to do

Once he gets more into it he'll become more passionate, he just needs more practice

I feel like the farthest he'd go in terms of inflicting any discomfort would be choking, but it would never go far. He'd end up taking his hand away last minute

He'd probably want to try different dynamics so he'd want to try subbing

Needs to be reminded of his role because he gets too enthusiastic

Javier Escuella

It's a universal fandom headcannon that he's into knife play

So knife play

Ghosts the tip of the blade up your thigh closer to your pussy before pressing the cold metal flat against you

Then runs it back down to your knee, repeats the same motion over and over again until you're shaking

Would probably enjoy typing you up/cuffing you so you're helpless to whatever he does

He'd probably be scared to actually draw blood but if you're into it he'll be down

Licks up any bloody wounds or sucks on them

Praises you so much the entire time

He'd be incredibly romantic though, incredibly good at aftercare

I think there'd also be times where he gets really into it and feeds off on the fear in your eyes

Hosea Matthews

He's such a sweetie but I feel like he'd be an incredibly experienced dom

These are my headcannons and I think Hosea is fine asf so leave me alone

Into leather crops, whips, blindfolds, gags, etc

Drips candle wax on you

Very flexible in terms of what he'll do

But he has to Dom

He can either be really good at praise or will degrade you

Brat tamer for sure

I can even imagine him having cages bro

Talks you through everything and gives you very detailed commands

Inflicts pain on you but knows extremely well how far to go and how much is too much

[ozzgin]

Hey so, a bit ago I sent an asking saying I drew what I think the buildings would look like! And you said you thought I drew humans for a second, and like- that was a great idea!! So i made some yandere school and darling school ocs!

Theyre all male, the darling student is transmale and the yandere student Is somewhat non binary, the darling teacher is like a bit of a hardass, while the yanderes teacher is just a big bubbly guy! Same goes with their students, big chubby, bear of a darling who thinks he's ugly, and his yandere who thinks he's better than God himself. So yeah!! :3

Also I made school logos because yesh

I truly cannot convey how much I love this!! 😭🙏🏻

Where do I even begin, the art itself is amazingly expressive. I could guess the characters before I even read your personality descriptions. I’m also extremely grateful and happy that you made the characters so diverse and inclusive. They look like the main cast to a popular show where everyone loves them because they’re so relatable.

I’m also really enjoying your take on the two schools, because I had pictured the Darlings as the cheerful, bubbly people. It’s a surprise to see the roles reversed, and I must say I’m inclined to prefer your interpretation.

The pairings, too, are chef’s kiss. Every insecure darling deserves a yandere who worships the ground they walk on.

Darling mentioning how big he is, and the yandere immediately agreeing to it, factually, completely unaware it might be source of anguish. Like…it’s why they love him so much in the first place. Wait, why is he making that face? Did they say something wrong?

Anyways, I might just go for your uniform design if I’m ever doodling anything myself. It’s just…there’s nothing I can add to it, really. I cannot perceive anything else now that I have seen it materialized like this.

I’m currently on holiday, but once I’m home I’ll be adding the drawing to my special folder of things I’ve received. Gosh. Sometimes I’ll spontaneously go through the files, and tell my partner “can you believe someone else did this? With their own hands? And they sent it to me?”, and he’ll respond with a satisfied, whispered “nice stuff”. 😌

[blingblong55]

Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)

Based on a request:

Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era

A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes

F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming

7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.

If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.

By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.

"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"

You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.

By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.

After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.

Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.

Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.

With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.

And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.

He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.

One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"

You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.

"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.

"Sunday...time?"

His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?

"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."

A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"

"I'll pick you up?"

"I don't see why not."

You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.

During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.

"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.

"Thank you, for giving me this chance."

Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.

6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.

4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.

"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"

You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.

Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.

And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.

Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.

His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

Tags: @anonymuslydumb

A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise

[shirefantasies]

Congrats on 100 followers!!

What are some of your lotr headcanons?

Thank you so much 🥳 Ooooooh good question 👀 lessee *cracks knuckles* I’m going to do some regular one & some romantic ones, enjoy 😘

Some of my LoTR Headcanons!

*General*

✧ Aragorn may have worn Boromir’s bracers, but he also kept a drawing he found in his pocket. Turns out Faramir had drawn it one day when they were boys and his older brother held onto it until the end of his days.

✧ Legolas is so soft around little ones. He tries to act all like a wise guide but devolves into letting them climb him and carrying them up to rooftops for starlight stories. Doesn’t even care if they grab his hair or his ears, he’s still smiling so gently at them.

✧ Pippin is what would be called in modern days neurodivergent, more specifically with autism and ADHD. His parents and Merry were the most understanding ones, the ones who knew what he needed to hear and how he would process it best when others didn’t always understand.

✧ Legolas and Aragorn had the habit of singing together at fireside, quiet elvish songs, until one evening Gimli decided to put a stop to it with a dwarvish drinking song. In the end, the others find it so funny they learn it and join in, all three of them leaving their troubles for one night of song.

✧ Lord Elrond? Elrond of Rivendell??? Makes the best cup of tea in Middle Earth, fight me.

✧ Faramir teaches Pippin his favorite childhood game, probably something akin to chess, not really expecting the hobbit to enjoy it but Pippin ends up beating him out of sheer luck

✧ Frodo, Aragorn, and Legolas could have totally talked some shit in Elvish to each other and I firmly believe they did

✧ Arwen thinks of Lindir as a friend, but he’s so formal that in his mind such a lady could never see him so casually, leading to comical differences in the way they address each other

✧ Pippin wants a shit ton of kids some day. Sam is happy with around three, Merry wants a boy and a girl, Frodo isn’t sure he even wants children at all, but Pippin? He’s down for five to ten no problem, and he will be best friends with every single one.

✧ Eowyn teaches Faramir a bunch of horse riding tricks and he falls in love with riding as a sport, smiling as he takes in an act he only performed in war during a moment of pure joy and prosperity.

*Romance*

✧ Merry and Pippin are both such passionate kissers. OMG you will be breathless

✧ Elrond is the gentlest lover, handling his partner so carefully as if they were like gorgeous blown-glass in his hands and could break.

✧ Boromir is the type to grab his partner’s booty when they’re kissing in private

✧ Frodo’s ideal partner is not the smartest person or the most well-read, but someone with lighter spirits than his, someone who can never fail to bring a smile to his face and a laugh out of him.

✧ Faramir absolutely adores surprising you with flowers, so get ready to find them everywhere.

✧ Legolas is incredibly shy, inexperienced, and unsure with romance, so he prefers you to lead so that he can respond in kind, learning and studying with each touch, each act. He discovers his favorite thing is tracing a hand up and down your spine as you embrace.

✧ Gimli likes to act so rough and tough for someone who, in modern terms, would be called a massive simp, practically rolling out a red carpet for his partner and worshipping the ground they walk on, kissing them almost reverently unless the mood shifted deeper.

✧ Eomer is so good at giving massages, his partner will feel like royalty whenever he helps them relax

✧ He doesn’t look it, but Sam 100% would be the type to hold you up against a wall as he kisses you

✧ Aragorn enjoys being little spoon quite frequently. Fight me.

[t1oui]

chaotic bcj headcanons bc i have brainrot about this man OFTEN

italian, greek (mum), british, and spanish (dad)

grew up in italy, it's his first language (he was invited to hogwarts bc his dad works for the ministry)

can learn a language in about 2 seconds

speaks italian, english, greek, and spanish (only learned it to spite his dad who can't speak spanish)

almost sorted into ravenclaw, he was nearly a hatstall

likes to spend his time pointing out all the reasons why english sucks (he is probably the best english speaker of all his friends and he wasn't fluent till he was 11 (they've been speaking english their entire lives))

very tall. it is literally impossible to lose this man in a crowd

loves to swim but gets pissy if the water's too warm

is a sub 100%. if evan is ace he's still a sub but in a nonsexual way

he's crazy in the way that all smart people are a lil crazy because nobody fully understands him (read: he's best friends with lily evans)

makes fun of jegulus for being jealous but will throw hands if someone smiles at evan from across the great hall

in constant need of piggyback rides but too tall to get them from anybody but remus

love language is physical touch, if he is not touching someone at all times he gets anxious

this usually means holding hands with his friends... and biting evan

worships the ground his bf walks on daily <3

never studies but has perfect grades

loves dying his hair, usually green but also random colors like red and purple and blue (pandora's favorite color)

once sirius dyed barty's hair hot pink to get back at him for who knows what it's barty but barty actually loved it (sirius was PISSED)

bisexual

happily asks evan to give him pictures to wank to (evan obliges)

have i mentioned he's a total fucking simp. yeah

was quidditch commentator for 2 seconds before mcgonagall fired him (he kept gossiping about the players)

actually loves people so deeply it hurts (james does the same thing but his love for people is on the surface while barty hides his most of the time)

hella adhd

insists on being the little spoon, can't sleep otherwise

has a ton of piercings and is completely COVERED in tattoos (at least half are dedicated to evan, the other half to the rest of his friends (including the gryffindors, especially lily!!))

mama's boy, like this man brings up his mom every 6 seconds, he thinks she's the smartest person on earth (other than evan ofc)

has a lot in common with james (as seen above), barty beefs with him for about a month and then realizes james is actually super chill (james and evan were already friends lol)

the biggest fuck you to his dad? not only does he hate politics, he wants to be an artist

likes painting just fine, and drawing is ok (he mostly just draws evan and the skittles, sometimes others like lily and james), but he LOVES ceramics

is an amazing cook, spends a lot of time in the kitchens with the house elves

(in a world without voldemort, he and hermione granger would get along very well)

favorite subjects are charms and defense against the dark arts (y'all remember when he was actually kind of a good dada professor in gof? yeah)

my computer's about to die so i'll leave it here, might add more later tho <3

[hinamie]

@edwardnashtons I'm calling the police u come into my house and have the absolute nERVE to read me like this,,, Jail .

[wildharesandboundteeth]

A subtle and low energy form of worship inspired by Chaos Magick and Sigils

So this one's a bit of basic Chaos magick I've been using for years to charge my sigils. It's slow but steady form of charging sigils that also adds a more 'personal touch' compared to charging with the moon and/or sun. Basically you just put the sigil on a body part with the intention of it being worship.

I am not the first one to do this but I figured that it might be good to share this knowledge to more people.

The basic formula is your God's symbol/ a correspondence of them on or against your body with the intention to dedicate each action of that body part to them.

A choker with a bird pendant dedicating every word you say to Hermes. (Good for presentations and for shit talking with the boys.)

Some examples:

(helpol specific because I'm more familiar with them at this moment)

A rose on your chest,/shirt/bra/binder with the intention of dedicating every heart beat to Aphrodite. (Low energy, more consistent and makes you feel hotter than usual. ;) )

Athena's name written on your finger to dedicate each word written to Her. (Good for homework though try not too write anything too stupid (very difficult for me).)

Ares's symbol painted on the bottom of your exercise shoe's inner sole with the intent to dedicate workout to Him. (Who knows? He might join you (and put you to shame).)

Ways to mark yourself:

I used to use this method with the elemental alchemical signs as well back when I worshipped/drew power from them more often. Holy book versus, sacred numbers, ect. can also work. Heck, maybe even write the entire Mahabharata on yourself.

Non-toxic marker / pen

Water / soil / ash / powder of ground herbs or flowers (non-toxic)

Temporary tattoo / Henna / actual tattoo

Sewing / embroidery / iron-on patches / fabric marker / washable fabric crayons

Honey / milk / yogurt / lotion (all good for the skin)

Face paint / graphic eyeliner / make up (especially foundation you're going to blend)

Just tracing the symbol with a finger

Suggestions

Tip: if you're going with more subtle correspondence (like a drawing of their animal) as opposed to just writing their name or symbol, it's good to do a ritual/ a small prayer to inform them. Just telling them can work too if you're too exhausted for those.

The same effect can be achieved with key chains, stuffed toys, taglocks, ect but I personally like this method as it's something I'm familiar with. It's also harder to forget to do bring something along if it's on your body (yes, I am calling myself out). It also feels more personal.

Disclaimer: Please only do this for gods/entities you know and have a relationship with. I would also advise against doing this to a god that has rejected/not answered your requests to work with them. And please don't mark yourself with a god that you straight up do not know anything about.

I sometimes put wellness sigils for my loved ones on my pulse point(s) or along my chakras with henna. It's slow but with time, it's really builds up.

More rambling

Nowadays, I always make sure to always have the sigils for Lord Hermes and Lord Ares on my foot so I can dedicate each step I take to them. I usually dedicate longer walks to *runs to them but I feel like having a physical 'anchor' helps me concentrate the energy and intent. It also helps if I just plain forget to dedicate a walk to them.

*Disclaimer: author of this post only runs for the bus or because they're late. In no way are they healthy nor disciplined.

In addition to all the worship stuff, it also feels comforting to having something of my loved ones near me/ on me. It reminds me that I am (somehow) loved and that there's something to fight for. Though I might just be getting sentimental in my young age.

So that's my suggestion for you lovely people. I hope to helps inspire someone or something. If anyone has any other suggestions, ideas or constructive feedback, please let me know.

[call-me-doll-face]

WARNING: Dark bucky barnes, sexual themes, violence, 18+

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so I apologize for no page break. Will be fixed when I have access to my computer ❤️

ME AND THE DEVIL:

I know you do not usually seek out men like him. In fact, someone smart would avoid the likes of him at all costs. Someone smart would find other means of getting what she wants; what she needs. Other alternatives. However most people would not call me smart. Would say I am easy, I am gullible, I am pathetic. However, I guess desperation can change your point of view, because I started thinking something on the wrong side of crazy.

I started thinking he could be my salvation.

Getting his attention was not difficult, unbelievably. Men like him want what they cannot have. Something unexpected, something exciting, lifechanging.

So, what do you give a man that has everything? Sex? That is almost laughable. He could have any women he wanted. They practically worship the ground he walks on.

Money? That thought is even worse. You can tell that he is drowning in it. Has more than any one man should.

Friendship? It is a nice thought, but he would never trust it. Never let you close enough to even try.

No... I gave him a chase. I let him see me in the seedy club that he frequents. Let his eyes skim the skimpy little black dress I wore just for him; then just when he had almost had his fill, I would take it away. Disappear into the crowd.

This little game of ours carried on for longer than I would have liked. It became a dance of sorts, our game of cat and mouse. Until I finally let him catch me.

I finally let him have me; let him control my very being. The act brings me more pleasure than I can handle, this big strong man consuming me body and soul. The power that came with submitting to him....

Slowly, I realized there was more to him than the man everyone hated and feared. There was compassion, empathy, and a heart filled to the brim with love.

That love wrapped around my heart and anchored me. Gave me a sense of safety I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Over time, I felt bad for what I was doing to him, wanting to find a way to explain it all to him. Find a way to ask him to help me instead of trying to coerce it out of him.... I wanted him willing...

But he found me out before I got the chance.

We stand across from each other, backs pressed against walls and trading accusatory glances.

Bucky is furious, face tense and his jaw clenching. Brows are furrowed over narrowed eyes, making him look fierce, intimidating.

I can tell he wants to say something to me, wants to lash out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just grits his teeth and snarls at me, which makes him seem even more menacing. A shiver of excitement runs through me at the strength and power of the man before me, curling around my spine and drawing me to him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Any sane person would be terrified, but not me. After all this time I know without a doubt James Buchanan Barnes would never harm me; would bet my life on it.

As I take a step towards him, I notice his back straightened, icy blue eyes throwing up a wall, guarding himself and his emotions from me. Too late, as I’d seen the pain and betrayal there. My heart cracks at it.

I had done that. I had put that look on this untouchable man's face. I’d hurt him, betrayed him, ruined him.

More than anything I want to fix it.

“Bucky... James... Please let me explain.” My voice is a soft plea, brown eyes begging as I take another step towards the man I had come to love.

This impossibly strong and stubborn man who had changed everything.

Broad shoulders slump in defeat at my tone, face downcast and eyes dull. He is closing off from me, but I will not let him. No.

Finally stepping before him, I let my hand cup his face gently. My thumb gently rubs at the corner of his mouth that had turned down slightly. Those eyes squeeze tight at my touch, face leaning into my hand desperately.

“Tell me it was real. Please tell me it was real. You weren't using me.” He begs, voice wavering with emotion and my heart breaks further. Lips trembling, I press my body closer to him, cupping his face and pressing my forehead to his.

“I love you... I love you buck; I love you.”

Lips meet mine desperately, hands gripping my back and pulling me flush to his hard body.

He is devouring me, drinking me in. His tongue licks at the seam of my lips and I instantly grant him access, whimpering when it snakes into my mouth and dances with mine.

“Say it. Please. Please say it.” The words are spoken against my mouth, hand sliding up to grip the nape of my neck firmly, demanding I give in to him. Blue eyes search mine as if trying to see right through me, trying to see into my very soul.

Was I sent to destroy him? Was I some cruel means to an end? Someone to break down his barriers, strip him of his armor and lay him out to dry? Leave him to his enemies to rip apart as they see fit?

Our breathes mingle, so close its hard to tell where one ends, and one begins. He is engulfing my very existence; I’ve never been more willing to drown.

My belly flutters with anxiousness as I will myself to give in, to trust that he will believe and understand me. Closing my eyes briefly I let a soft sigh leave my parted lips; let the tip of my tongue dart out to wet my bottom lip before gathering the courage to face him head on once again.

“I will tell you everything. Every single detail, all you have to do is ask. But right now, you must know that this, this thing between us, is one of the scariest yet realist things I have ever known. I wasn’t supposed to love you. I was never supposed to care for you the way I do now, but God do I.” his chest deflates with a shaky exhale at my words, the waft of air moving the loose strands of hair out of my face. “James- “ reaching up I cup the back of his head, caressing the soft brown hair there. “I want to be with you. I want to stay WITH you. I do not want to run from my problems anymore. I want to burn them to the ground and build a life with you.”

“But?” He mumbles, nuzzling against the side of my face.

“But…- “here we go. This will make or break whatever this is. “But my ex is a bad man.” Bucky’s body tenses at the mention of another man, pulling away to give me his full attention. “He is a bad man, and buck, he has my daughter. He has my daughter, and he wanted your money, and I could not let him hurt her.”

The more I talk the more panicked I feel. Its like word vomit, I cannot stop until I have gotten all of it out. My breathing quickens, chest starts to hurt with the stress of it as tears gather on my lash line, causing buck to become blurry.

“He told me he’d hurt her if I didn’t do exactly as he said. Oh god buck, she is only four years old.” A choked sob escapes from me, my hand reaching up to cover my mouth as a tear breaks free. Bucky just stands there, staring at me in shock as I drone on. “I know he will follow through if I disappoint him. He’s hurt the both of us more times than I can count already. His best friend is a police officer, so nobody had believed me when I’d tried to get help, it had only made things worse. I didn't have a choice.” I am full on crying now, body wracking with sobs as I hold myself, trying to keep myself together.

a variety of different emotions fleet across Bucky’s face before he finally settles on rage. It sets in his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides before shoving past me and out the door, walls slamming with the force of it shutting.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had thought that was that. That he was done with me. I went to the little sketchy hotel room I’d rented in case things went south, curled onto the bed I don’t like to think too much about, and sobbed. I sobbed until exhaustion took hold and drug me under.

Coming to felt even worse. My eyes had crusted shut from all the tears and my head throbbed with a migraine that almost cripples me.

It could have been hours, days for all I knew. I just didn’t care.

Just as I go to roll over in an attempt to go back to sleep the door to the room bursts open and there he is. There he is, covered in blood and practically dragging Gabe in by the back of his shirt.

“Bucky! Are you okay!” I gasp, jumping to my feet and rushing to him, terrified that some of the copious mounts of blood could be his.

Grunting he lets Gabe fall to the ground unceremoniously before engulfing me in a bone crushing hug. “I’m all right doll. Had some business I needed to take care of. I’m all right.”

I cling to him, letting the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder wash over me and calm my nerves. “I thought you were gone. That you’d left me.” My bottom lip wobbles, and he pulls back, cupping my jaw gently with his metal hand, thumb running over my lip to soothe it.

“I’m never leaving you, doll. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. But I will not have you without her.” It takes my mind a moment to process his words, but when it does my heart soars, eyes watering for a completely different reason than earlier.

“She- she’s here?”

“She is.” He quickly grabs my shoulders to prevent me from rushing past him and out the door, stops me from going to her. As if sensing the words of protest bubbling up, he gives me a stern look and I swallow them down with a frown. “First, business.” He indicates what said business is with a sharp kick to Gabe’s side, pulling a grunt from the other man.

“Y-you stupid whore. Couldn’t even do one damn thing right.” Gabe snarls with labored breath, drawing up onto his hands and knees with a pained groan. Blonde hair that is usually kept impeccable falls over his bruised and battered face in a greasy mess. Green eyes, red from busted blood vessels shoot up to glare at me.

Bucky remains quiet, yet I can feel his silent rage filling the room and choking us. I wait for the eruption, the blow up I know will come, but to my surprise he just clasps his hands together and moves to stand slightly behind me.

It dawns on me that this powerful man that everyone fears is giving me, little old nobody me, the lead. He’s letting me decide what happens to the man that tormented me and my daughter for years. Bucky is letting me take justice into my own hands.

When I turn uncertain eyes on him, he gives me the slightest dip of his chin, eyes shining with encouragement. “Burn them to the ground, then build a life.” They’re the softest words he’s ever spoken to me, and they give me all the confidence I need.

A humored laugh is heard from behind me as I straighten my spine and turn to face the pathetic excuse of a man that’s now on his knees before me. The blood in my veins sings with the satisfaction of him kneeling there. His rightful place; below me.

“You think that just because you fucked James Buchanan Barnes that suddenly you’re not the same little pathetic girl from a nowhere town in Ohio? Think again princess.” He sneers, spitting blood at my feet before turning hateful eyes back up at me. “Both you and that stupid little daughter of yours are useless. Hell, you weren’t even adequate enough to stick a dick in. what are you going to do to me, huh? Cry in my face, drown me in your tears?”

I let every word from his mouth soak in. let every hateful thing he’d done to me, made me feel, seep into every pore, and consume me. My own rage, mixed with Bucky’s, builds to an almost cataclysmic point, while all I feel is a calmness wash over me. My mind and heart go quiet as I just stare at him with empty eyes, not saying a word as he slowly starts losing his confidence, starts to squirm.

“You have absolutely no idea how much of a pleasure it is for me to see you on your knees, covered in blood and squirming like a rat caught in a trap.” My voice comes out even, smooth, and he instantly has a sneer back on his face at the words. Before he gets the chance to open his mouth and spew more bullshit, I turn on my heel to slightly face bucky. “You know, you were right about one thing, I’ll give you that... I’m most definitely not the same little girl from Ohio. What you WERE wrong about however is that it’s not because I fucked bucky, oh no, that honor goes to you.” Giving bucky a sweet smile, he watches in amusement, brow cocked as I lift the left side of his shirt and steal the lightweight combat blade he keeps hidden there.

Twirling it between my fingers I twist back and let Gabe see it, let him take a minute to sweat it as I take slow steps towards him.

“For years you made my life a living hell. You trapped me, moved me to a place where I had nothing; no one. You controlled everything. Who I socialized with, the money, hell it was you who made me get pregnant. Now that- “coming to a stop in front of him, I run the tip of my blade down his cheek, relishing in the flinch he gives at the first touch of metal against sensitive skin. “That was your first mistake.” A sharp cry tears from him as I clench my teeth and dig the edge of the blade in just under his eye, dragging it all the way down his cheek to his jaw in a bloody line.

“You fucking bitch- FUCK!” he shouts out, going to move away from me but bucky is instantly there, holding him in place with a harsh hold on his shoulders. The pure arousal in his eyes takes my breath away and I feel the excitement at pleasing him all the way down between my thighs. I never realized how exhilarating this could be. Setting my sights back on the man before me I let a crazed grin slide free.

“Do you want to know where you fucked up? You gave me someone to love more than you. You gave me someone I cared about more than myself. You tore me down to a point that I didn’t care what you did to me, but when you gave me that little girl? When you hurt, that little girl? Well, that was the beginning of the end for you.” Flipping the knife in my hand so that the hilt is up I slam down as hard as I can, feeling it slice through the bone like butter as it makes a home in his shoulder right by where Bucky’s hand rests.

Bucky seems just as surprised as Gabe, staring at the blade with wide eyed disbelief before his teeth flash in a wicked smile, laughing incredulously. Gabe screams, wiggles in agony, trying to escape the pain. With a giggle that I should be appalled by, I yank it out, blinking the warm blood splatters out of my eyes. My tongue flicks to the side of my mouth by its own accord and the tangy copper flavor fills my mouth. The sound of his pain is music to my ears, the raw pride that bucky exudes makes my clit throb.

“You’re going to pay for what you did. There will be so much more pain, this is only a small taste of what’s to come.” I can’t handle this anymore, my body shaking with so much pent-up energy that I feel as if I’ll combust. “But later.” When my brown eyes meet icy blue ones, my lips pull between my teeth, and those eyes flick to them, locking on to the movement.

Bucky, ever observant, seems to know what I need before even I do. Pulling rope from the back pocket of his tight fitted jeans he quickly ties Gabe’s wrists and ankles so that he can’t escape. Dark eyes move back up to me once he’s done, body appearing larger as he rounds Gabe, chest puffing out as he stalks me.

“What was your second mistake? So glad you asked, I’ll tell you.” placing my palm against his broad and sturdy chest, I halt bucky. His chest falls in even controlled breathes as he searches my face, trying to decipher what I want. When my eyes flick to the floor before me, right where Gabe had just been, he gives me a knowing smirk before he drops to one knee, then the other. Now, seeing him before me is a completely different type of excitement, but just as thrilling.

“You put this man in my path. A man you knew was dangerous. Could destroy you. Oh, but you never thought I'd confide in him. Tell him the truth…. Fall in love with him. No, you underestimated me.” Thick fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, gently tugging them down my legs along with my panties. He lets out a deep groan at the wetness already visible on my thighs, inhales deeply, and takes in the smell of my arousal. Gripping under my knee, he hooks my leg over his shoulder and dives in like a starved man.

My head falls back at the first broad stripe up my center, a whimper as that skilled tongue flicks and curls around my bundle of nerves. The man is pure sin, knowing what I desire like the devil himself. His metal hand grips my hip, grounding me as he feasts on me, tongue spearing into me, drinking from me with obscene slurping noises. It doesn’t take long before I’m ready to crumble for him, the knot in my belly tightening and a warmth spreading over my entire body.

Looking to the man on the floor, seeing how red-faced and humiliated he looks, sends me ever closer to my climax, and I can't help but torment him even more. Cruelty has never been my nature, but I'm relishing in what it does to him. "He's so good, Gabe. So much better than you ever were." Bucky groans at my words, sending vibrations through my whole body. I gasp loudly, brows knitting at the feeling as my fingers bury in his soft locks. "How does it feel, watching someone so powerful worship the person you thought was nothing?"

"You stupid -"

Sliding his flesh hand between my legs, Bucky easily slips two fingers into me, instantly curling them and expertly finding that special spot inside me, and I’m a goner.

His name falls from my lips like a prayer, back arching as my orgasm crashes through me in waves. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me as he sucks my clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers faster, working to prolong my pleasure as long as he can.

When I finally come down, I push him away from me with a gentle hand on his head. Locking eyes with Gabe I let the delight show on my face. Gloating in the way bucky played my body like a fiddle. “It’ll be the last time you ever underestimate me."

Wrapping a firm hand around buckys throat i guide him backward until he’s on his back. He lets me control him and lifts his hips to help aid me in pulling his jeans down just under his ass. My mouth waters as his cock springs free, laying flushed and leaking against his belly. Usually, I would worship him. Let my tongue slide down his delicious happy trail to the base before licking all the way up his shaft to the tip. Usually. Not now.

Bucky watches with hooded eyes and teeth dug into his plump bottom lip as I climb over him. Fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as he leans up slightly to watch where we meet. I watch as those brows scrunch in concentration, and his jaw goes slack as I position myself and slowly slide down onto him. I take him all the way to the hilt in one slide, wincing at the burn of it, of him. He’s so big. It never matters how much he preps me. It’s always a stretch to fit him.

He looks at me desperately as I try to give myself time to adjust. I feel the muscles in his hips bunching, struggling not to thrust up into me, the thick muscles flinching under me. Taking pity on him, I lay my hands flat on his chest before raising myself up and dropping all the way down. The noises he makes as I start to ride him in earnest are sinful, feeling so good all his barriers are down, all his pleasure on full display.

He lets me take him apart right there in front of another man. Willingly submits to me, whines when I take him to the very edge then denies him his pleasure. “Please, please doll fuck. So fucking close, please stop teasing me. Come one baby, ride that cock, let me fill that pretty pussy up, please baby doll I’ll do anything you want.” He whines and pleads. Pulling him into a sitting position I cradle his head against my chest as I bounce, feeling my climax coming once again as his cock slides against my walls, rubbing every spot flawlessly.

Meeting Gabe eyes once again over bucks’ shoulder, I give him a triumphant smirk as I rest my chin on the top of Buckys head. “Cum for me baby. Be a good boy and fill that pussy up.” As soon as the words leave my mouth he’s cursing, shouting my name and his hips jerk erratically, shooting ropes of hot cum into me and coating my walls. The feeling of his cum in me sends me over the edge right after him, and the clenching of my walls around him coaxes another orgasm from him as well, our cries and shouts echoing around the room.

Gabe finally breaks, pathetic sobs and pleads leaving him as he presses his face into the old carpet.

Ignoring the pest in the room, We take a minute to bask in each other, pressing soft kisses to any part of skin we can reach, trading soft works to one another. Once our heart rates have calmed down, he gives me one more chaste kiss. “Ready to go see our little girl?”

[httpserb]

okay so while i work on chapter 2 (I'm so sorry its late I'm a highschool senior with 4 ap classes, 2 gifted classes, and insomnia. I'm trying my best i swear) I'm going to give out some content and stuff like things to expect in the fic

this is friendships/relationships that will kage will experience with small explanations :D (these are out of order)

lev & kage - ok so I plan on having miwa and alisa get together so i find it funny if they were awkward but lev immediately attaches to kage and they're like brothers

akaashi & kage & kenma - ok so they're all introverted and i know kenma and akaashi are cool but like i can see akaashi realize kage is mean or angry just really awkward and weird at times so he recommends him to join his and kenma's game nights and one Minecraft world later they're all attached at the hip

atsumu & osamu & kage - originally i think atsu and kage have a rivalry and mutual respect for each other until atsu realizes samu and kage are good friends (bc kage is always eating samu's curry rice balls, he has become samu unofficial food tester lol) and atsu is obvi trying to be the better twin so they end up getting closer at setters like a more equal standing unlike oikawa & kage or suag & kage who were mentors (in a way looking at you sideways oikawa bc your teaching methods were ... interesting [don't misintterupt this i love oikawa])

ushijima & kage - ok so they're both autistic, you'd have to rip that headcannon out my dead cold hands, and i can see ushijima watching kage and realizing 'oh he is like me' and they just connect like bluetooth

kyotani & kage - i actually love them bc they're both similar to me (i also find oikawa and kyotani's relationship interesting as he is in personality and raw talent and skill similar to kage and ik oikawa felt threatened cb kage was a setter but him moving along with you after the kitagawa incident is very interesting tbh) anyways i imagine they'd accidently connect like at the same gym and bond by shitting on oikawa (i imagine he'd want to hit some of kage's kingly tosses too)

yachi & kage - wlw & mlm solidarity, i love them sm, yachi realizing after seeing kage awkwardly attempt to pet a cat that he is really cute but in a sibling or little kid way so she can no longer find him scary but gets protective and explains social situations for him when he doesn't understand

coach ukai & kage - i imagine while coach takeda was hinata's coach, coach ukai was kage's bc he was blunt in a way kage understood and no extra words for needed, plus i like to think they were both very honest which each other so if ukai said kage was messing up he'd be upset but believe him and take a break

kage & tsuki - so i stand by the fact kage is smart but in odd strangely specific ways like physics but not general science and math and tsuki finds out and loses his shit bc kage is lowkey better than him but doesn't do anything with this, this kinda begins their actual friendship tho bc kage gets to talk about physics (esp astrophysic his favorite bc his dad's job [a personal headcannon])

kogane & kage - kogane worshipping the ground kage walks on bc he is such a good setter and kage trying to help teach kogane but he isn't good with words but despite this kogane understands him somehow!?

kuroo & kage - i think kuroo would recognize kage as someone similar to kenma but not only that but as hinata's best friend and as kenma's best friend who is friends with hinata he'd do some mental math to become kage's friend. plus i think he'd (like tsuki) recognize kage is dumb, but smart in different ways and try to draw it out of him (he also finds it funny to adopt/befriend all the karasuno first years [he has plans for yachi & yama])

tendou & kage - took one look and thought him and ushijima are of the same breed so he could befriend him (probably) but other than that i think tendou being seen as scary or freakish, even being referred to as a monster could relate to kage and his king od the court incident so maybe they'd bond through that

ok that is all i can think of rn and if a friendship isn't on here it's because it probably something I'm already going to do. this list was mostly headcannon or me taking a small relationship, blowing it up, then putting it under a microscope for personal enjoyment

(here is some food: @youwerethedefeated @infinitemilk @ushouldwatchhaikyuu @kagehiner @cosmorom @greynoceur @pixiesnooze @kagehiner )

[sillylittlelemon]

uhhh hi... I'm kinda scared to do this but I wanna do a saiki k matchup :3. I'm 16, she/they, panromantic asexual, I'm fine with platonic matchup btw. Mbti is infp-t, I'm introverted but as a child I was super extraverted so I still have some extraverted tendencies and interject when I'm not supposed to. I also have ADHD and maybe Autism but my psychologist is still unsure about that. I don't like people who force social interaction on me or rope me in situations I wasn't originally a part of. Basically, if I don't make the first steps to interact with you, please just respectfully leave me be. People say that they feel at home and comfortable around me when first meeting but that's probably because I'm a people-pleaser. For hobbies i love to read, draw, write, look into anything that's obscure enough, and listen to music ALL THE TIME. i dislike big wide spaces, heights, dark places, and others. Anomalous and supernatural stuff interest me so MUCH. I love crazy stuff like that. I like to yap about history and crazy supernatural theories about the world, even if I don't believe them. Yeah :333

Hi lovely! Thank you for the request! 🫂❤️ I hope you enjoy!

Okay hear me out- The dark revival guy? One sec i gotta google his name bc your girl is blanking so hard rn

KAIDO

I just feel like with your listed interests/hobbies plus a couple of your characteristics (for example; dislike of big/open spaces, heights, dark places, etc) would totally match his vibe and he would instantly be head over heels if you started talking paranormal/freaky stuff with him (bc letsbe real this poor baby just wants someone who doesnt think he's crazy)

Kaido is 100% a proctective boyfriend or even just friend- because he just KNOWS the dark reunion is out to get you to hurt him. You tripped? No, the dark reunion put that rock there in hopes to injure you. Theres a spider in your room? The dark reunion is attempting to assasinate you (you can kill it now because theres no way in hell he's getting within 10 feet of that thing)

Kaido is also simultaniously broke and dying to spoil you. Like- he *wants* to give you the world, buy you everything youso much as *glance* at because this boy worships the ground you walk on- but he has 69 cents and you know what that means? He doesnt have enough money for chicken nuggies (iykyk)

If you'd like more headcanons/a rematch please send me the link to this post and let me know some light details, love you Anon 🫂❤️🫂❤️ thank you for the ask! They brighten my day so much 😊😊

[fairykazu]

we are reunited / you must go ft. scaramouche

contents: mentioned of ghosting, implied requited feelings, pent-up emotions, scaramouche is referred as kunizukushi, scaramouche is balladeer, abandonment issues, self sabotage

masterlist

a fair skinned male dressed in shades of red and purple stood quietly as inazuma thundered, showering the island with tears from the archon. walking against the cold, dirt path, he arrived at a small house with a small arch entrance. he opened the gate, walking on the stone slabs to the front door. his veil attached to his scarlet hat swayed in the wind, he never felt so anxious before. as he is the balladeer, the sixth harbinger in the fatui, he would never be scared, never be a pawn to someone. but the person he’d be visiting would affect him this deeply. 

he cleared his throat, platters of the rain hitting his kasa hat. the electro delusion clinked again his belt. the wooden door seemed like it was looming over his fate. does he risk the chance of seeing them again? is it worth it? see them again, steal the gnosis and disappear again. would that be worth it? 

scaramouche shook his head, he doesn’t need to think of the possibilities right now. aside from that, by the way the window’s blinds clinked faster than the lighting striking down a tree, they’re home. knocking on the door, he snapped his fingers as if he was doing a secret code. 

the door didn’t open. 

his first reaction was to use force on the door but scaramouche was clenching his hands; he relaxed because he forgot one more step, pinching the bridge of his nose. he flicked the bell near the table, a pair of eyes greeted him as the door creaked open. 

the person before him seemed confused. seemed, that is. awkward silence lingered between the two, only the raining ambience filled the air. scaramouche stood his ground, not wanting to speak. luckily for him, they broke the ice. 

“kunizukushi.” they said, crossing their hands. scaramouche met their piercing gaze. it has been so long since he had seen these pair of eyes. he wondered what you experienced after he had left. “what are you doing here?”

“well, i’m running errands for my work.” as they scanned scaramouche’s outfit, recognizing the fatui symbol. they pulled him into their house, making him stumble on his way in here. “running errands? really, kunizukushi, do you really think i’d believe this lie?” 

well, you did before. scaramouche thought. they used to act like worshipers as if i was a god. maybe, they will after i become an archon. he glanced at them as they pinched the bridge of their nose, mumbling to themself about what to do with him. they should treat me better than what they’re doing, i will be an upcoming archon, anyway. 

he leaned against the wall, checking his nails, “is this the way you treat all your guests? not quite a host, are you?” they rolled their eyes, 

“you want a good host? fine, come here.” they replied, pulling scaramouche into the living room. it looked like it was before. when scaramouche was still a puppet who didn’t know any better, he hopped between villages quicker before he made any bonds with anyone. after the incidents before, he didn’t want more betrayals but one friendship slipped through his iron steeled heart, one being with name. 

he didn’t mean to and he tried his best to avoid their every move. but they were special in the way they attempted to befriend him, in a way someone would bait a cat with a treat. hell, they were persistent even when he said he’d move into a different village, they managed to anchor him in the same village. 

if he squinted there was a faint drawing of them and him standing together, he remembered that he drew that and they convinced their parents to keep it. why do you have it still? he mumbled to himself. he sat on the rounded, plush pillows near the table. he took a quick look around while name was in the kitchen prepping like a good host should. 

they set a teapot and two cups on the table. these were the cups you two always had drunk from. how surprising! if he was them, he would’ve thrown these mugs as quick as possible. he noticed that they placed naku weeds arrangement as a middle piece. he snorted quietly, 

you always thought the “bad” plants needed love. 

they sat down across from scaramouche, pouring the tea into the two cups; they slid one of the cups to scaramouche. despite their polite actions, he knew they weren’t keen into playing the nice guy approach with him. just like the lighting, they striked him with a stern voice. 

“answer me correctly this time, kunizukushi.” they said, cutting lavender melons into cubes. “why are you here?” 

his pale hand reached for the tea, “can’t i visit an old friend?” he replied. they sighed, 

“seriously, i know you aren’t here for me.” although it was partly true, it still stung them to say that. seeing kunizukushi again upon the lies he’d told to say he would visit soon when he left inazuma for good. he said he didn’t want another betrayal. little did they know, he was planning one, just that he wasn’t affected. they were. 

he looked slimmer than a puppet could be. his eyes were sunken in, seeming tired. does his job even provide him with the daily essentials? …wait. 

they refuse to care for him, not after what he did. the moment he answers why, they will dial the number for the tenryou commission and arrest him quickly. but he looked so pitfiul. so they couldn’t help but brew his favorite tea, jasmine. not too bitter, not too sweet. 

the silence was unbearable for them, as kunizukushi didn’t answer. they’d hope their glare would send him away until they were at the farthest ends of the earth. but thankfully, he broke the ice. vaguely. 

“im here for personal reasons. maybe you’d hear it on the newspaper.” scaramouche jested but they didn’t laugh at his joke. “fine, im here for my work. but besides that, i am here for you.” he knew that they wouldn’t believe him but it was truth. why would he deliberately ignore his objective at work? he arrived at their house for a reason. “why would i ignore my mission to go to your house, name.” he said their name so easily as if it was liquid gold; in contrast, they couldn’t even say his fatui name correctly, only saying his birth name dipped with venom.

“why my house? i’ve heard of the traveler’s adventures and how you encountered them. are you here for similar reasons?” 

“name, i don’t have any lost siblings to find. i was here looking for you.” he admitted but he knew they wouldn’t believe him despite any other sign he could send. he noticed they let out a sm

“you saw me… now go before i call the commission.” they replied. although, they didn’t hesitate to threaten him, he saw their lips tremble, clinging onto every word. 

he scooted a bit closer, bit too close to their face. he could feel their warm breath against his porcelain face. “do you really want to?” 

a beat of silence followed just before they reply to his question. their lips trembled again like it used to when they were about to lie. 

“scaramouche.”

there it is, you’re saying the correct name now. though, considering you, you would call him the balladeer but he’d let it slide. he returned the same tone but sweeter, “name.”

“don’t test me. it’s been over a decade since you came back home. i don’t want to deal with you. i dont want to see you ever again.” 

his indigo brows furrowed, his smirk turned into a frown. you’re afraid of what would happen next. “what do you mean? didn’t you miss me?” 

“i did. i used to…” they refused to make eye contact. “... i used to believe you would come back and come back for me but you never did. i wanted to wait for you but you never came unlike the tides at the shore.” 

scaramouche didn’t speak. 

“please leave before i call the authorities. it’s your last chance, scaramouche.” 

he scuffled, his laugh echoing throughout the halls. he turned away, putting on his facade of confidence, “you should’ve thought twice before saying that.” 

he heard their breath hitch. 

“but alas, i’ll pardon you just this once. but if i see you again, i won’t let you off so easy.” 

after the storm had passed, he was gone, not leaving one trace. they looked out the window, it was for the best for them and him. they rolled on their back, pushing themself down and buried their face into their hands.

i missed you too.

from vidia: this oneshot is based off of my ocs' story but i twisted it to make sense for the story. this is a bit plot holey but please forgive me. thank you for reading. reblogs and shares would be appreciated !

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