#if ya want another hint for the last one here ya go: It's one of the Dream Friends from Star Allies

[cherry-blossom-qf]

Welp time for me to analyze-

Where there is sky, there's Kracko. And that saves a lost lover's life. Considering the blue coloring, I'm guessing the "lost lover" is Gill Grunt's girlfriend

Not all of the Skylanders ended up on earth. One of them accidentally ended up on Popstar. The purple coloring implies the Magic Element, so my best guesses are either Star Strike or Spyro

An old Kirby villain becomes a Doom Raider when they mysteriously end up in Skylands all by themselves Okay the only Kirby guys with rainbow coloring I can think of are the Dark Matter Swordsman and Claycia(or the Dark Crafter I guess-)

Holy shit! You got 2 out of 3 correct!

I'm actually really surprised and kinda flattered that someone took the time to analyze my hints! So go grab yourself some cookies for that, cuz you earned it! ^w^

To save you some trouble, the one thing you got wrong is the last one. I made it rainbow on purpose just to throw you all off a bit. They do kiiiiiiinda involve having "rainbow colors", but it's really far fetched. ("-w-)

check tags for info 👇

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[zephyrchama]

Do you ever wonder if the Devildom has silly celebrity TV competitions like The Masked Singer?

A bright green peacock costume graced the TV's screen. The costumed celebrity gripped a microphone and swayed as he sang, commanding all attention from the audience.

"This guy's got a great set of pipes." Mammon was on the edge of his seat humming along to the classic tune. "Twenty grimm says he wins the whole season. And another twenty grimm says that it's Chort."

Satan raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's Chort. Could he even sing? Plus, didn't he disappear because of his massive debts?"

Belphegor nodded. "I heard he's been trying to dig a river for the last six hundred years. The show's hints made this guy seem pretty great. I think it's Vapula.

"You think?" Satan rested his head on his hand and listened. "He's really good."

Hundreds of long feathers splayed out gracefully from the back of the perforner's costume, as if hypnotizing the viewers.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's Chort. He's probably on here to sweep the competition and pay off his debts. Not a bad plan." A scheme began to take shape in Mammon's brain. "If I call these production guys, they'll be beggin' to have someone like me on next season."

Asmodeus laughed, "you? Maybe in a few seasons after me. I know they're waiting to bring me on as a special guest."

"Wait, really?" Leviathan was only watching in case somebody sang an anime or game cover. Most of the time, he was boredly scrolling his phone and making technical remarks about the costumes. "C-can you take song requests?"

"It's not official yet " Asmodeus clarified, "but I know they'll want me on the show in due time. I'm just worried the mask will hide my true beauty."

The singer finished his performance with a dab and a bow. After racous applause began an excessively long commercial break. Interest in the room dwindled. Nobody cared much about curse insurance.

You hugged a cushion to your chest. Being unfamiliar with Devildom celebrities meant you couldn't play along, but listening to everyone's guesses was still enjoyable.

"That guy reminds me of Lucifer."

Belphegor and Satan made faces like they had just swallowed a frog. There was a beat of silence, then everyone in the room collectively went, "Nah."

"Where is he, anyway?" you asked.

"He said something about a favor for Lord Diavolo," Beelzebub replied through a fistful of buttered popcorn. "Won't be back until late."

"Ah."

When commercials ended, the show began to wrap up. The peacock costume reappeared as the judges tried their hardest to guess his identity. Despite its flat plastic eyes, the costume had a majestic air to it. The masked man still drew eyes even when standing still.

"Last chance for betting," Mammon said. He shook his coin purse. Nobody took up his offer.

With plenty of suspense, the emcee began to remove the contestant's mask. There was a solid minute of the camera panning between the stage, the audience, and the judges.

"Hurry up already." Belphegor tossed a piece of popcorn at the TV.

"I can't believe this!" the emcee shouted.

Asmodeus impatiently squeezed his hands together. "Well? Who is it!?"

"It's...!"

Confetti cannons and bright lights obscured the mystery man's face, yet the audience was going wild.

"I can't believe it!" The emcee screamed.

"If they cut to commercials again, I'm leaving," Satan sighed.

Thankfully, there were no more commercials. There were no more pans to the audience or the judges. There was only one person in the camera's focus.

"Your ruler of hell, the Avatar of Pride himself, the great Morning Star! It's... Lucifer!"

There was a sudden chorus of exclamations. "What!?"

Aside from the television, the House of Lamentation became dead silent. Beelzebub stopped, slowly lowering his hand of food while transfixed on the screen. Asmodeus looked like he was about to cry, having his position on the show stolen first by Lucifer. Mammon looked confused and swiveled his head around, stunned, as though his brothers were pranking him. Belphegor narrowed his eyes with displeasure.

You cautiously eyed Satan, ready to command him to stay if things got out of hand. He just stared at the screen coldly.

Leviathan was first to break the silence. "Wait, really? Lucifer's the peacock?"

"I knew it sounded like Lucifer," you bragged. You raised your arms victoriously. Your cushion flopped onto the floor.

Beelzebub was the only one to commend you. "Good job, I had no idea."

"So it wasn't Chort or Vapula." Belphegor began to drag himself off the couch. "Well, that was unexpected. I'm going to bed."

"What's the prize for this show? How much's he winnin'?" Mammon asked.

"Probably nothing. It's a small appearance fee and the rest is just exposure," Asmodeus explained. Him and Mammon both hung their heads.

Satan got up to grab the remote, mashing the power button until it clicked off. "This show sucks. Let's find something else to watch next week."

[gummydummy19]

The bear and his honey

Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))

Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)

A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3

Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)

Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.

It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.

In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...

One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.

"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.

"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.

After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.

Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.

So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.

"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.

Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.

"Ya want me to?"

Is he joking?

He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.

That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.

"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'

He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.

You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.

Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.

A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.

During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.

You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...

The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.

'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.

"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.

When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.

You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.

You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."

You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.

He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.

"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.

"You."

"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach

"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.

"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.

His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.

"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."

A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.

He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.

That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...

Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.

Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.

It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.

'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.

'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.

'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.

While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.

It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.

When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.

You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?

Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.

By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...

You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.

"OH MY GOD!"

"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.

"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."

Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.

"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.

"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.

"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"

You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.

"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."

"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.

"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.

Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.

"Not a word", he said.

"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.

Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.

You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.

"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.

Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.

"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.

He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.

"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.

You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.

"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"

A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.

"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"

"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.

You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.

"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"

"Sy, please...", you started begging.

'Please what? Use your words"

"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.

Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.

Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.

It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.

"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.

"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.

"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"Fuck, Sy..."

The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.

He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.

You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.

"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.

"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.

Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.

You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.

He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.

"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.

"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.

You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.

"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.

It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.

"Really?"

"Absolutely", he promised.

You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.

He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.

"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.

You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.

A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"

"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.

"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.

You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.

"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.

"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.

"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.

You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.

"Yeah..."

"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.

You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.

"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.

"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.

"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.

"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".

Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.

"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."

His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"

He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".

He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.

After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.

"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.

You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.

"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.

"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."

Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.

He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.

"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."

He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: thank you for reading!!! Wanna read more of my Sy fics? Check out my ongoing series 'A year in apartment 6B" !!!

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior @peyton-warren

[awearywritersworld]

"do you like me?" "nope."

gojo satoru x reader summary: even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever w/c: 1.1k tags/warnings: ft. yuuji and megumi. fluff. super light angst. lots of banter. a lil mutual pining. yuuji and gojo being chaotic. gender neutral reader. a/n: not sure how this turned out, but it was fun to write! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

"(l/n)-sensei!!"

you're trying to relax and really, fifteen minutes is all you want, but these days that seems impossible.

you turn your head toward the sparring field just in time to see yuuji fly into a tree about 30 yards away. megumi is already on the ground struggling to get up.

meanwhile gojo is prancing, literally prancing, in the opposite direction. you walk toward the group with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment playing across your features, all your hope for some peace and quiet crushed.

"that was awesome!" the pink haired boy shouts from amid a mess of leaves and branches.

gojo gushes over the praise, his hands pressing against his cheeks. "thank you, yuuji! it's nice to know someone around here appreciates my unmatched strength."

"i don't remember offering to be a part of the demonstration," megumi grumbles, finally rising to his feet.

his demeanor is less than pleased and you glance at him sympathetically before turning to gojo. "you do know that you're an adult, right? like, as in, a fully grown man."

"(y/n)-chaaaaan, you're always so mean to me," he whines, grabbing your hands dramatically. "what have i done to deserve such cruel treatment?"

"today or in general?" you pretend to think for a second. "i seem to remember you waking me up at seven this morning so that you didn't have to go to your meeting with masamichi-san alone-"

"he was mad at me for skipping the last one i had!"

"-and then you hid my phone for almost an hour because i wouldn't give you my last candy bar-"

"i was starving, (y/n)-chan! it wasn't my fault, you know that!"

"-and then you destroyed that tree, which i really happened to like by the way."

his gaze flickers toward that direction, the splintered wood a sad remnant of what it used to be, then throws his arms in the air. "this is so unfair!"

"(l/n)-sensei! did you see?" yuuji calls out, already fully recovered and bounding toward you.

"i sure did." you chuckle at his tattered clothes and unfazed attitude.

"what'd ya think?"

you really can't bring yourself to scold him, not with all the excitement in his voice. "oh, it was certainly something."

"did you hear that, gojo-sensei?" yuuji lights up.

megumi disguises his laugh with a cough. "i don't think that was a compliment."

the boy visibly deflates so you ruffle his hair. "it was pretty cool, i just don't want you getting hurt." that earns a grin, to your relief.

"so i get yelled at, but you're nice to him?" gojo pouts indignantly.

"yes."

"ugh! this is killing me, (y/n)-chan!" he announces before promptly knocking you to the ground, the action something between a hug and a tackle.

"gojo, get off of me!" you yell, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"i can't! not until you forgive me!"

your giggles ring through the air, music to gojo's ears, and your hands push him away as he tries to tickle your sides. you look like two kids, rolling around in the grass and shouting at one another.

yuuji leans in toward megumi, his voice hushed as if he's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. "i'm starting to think there's something going on between those two."

his friend looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "you're just now noticing?"

~~~

you're making dinner in your apartment while gojo sits on the kitchen floor, his legs splayed out and taking up nearly half of the small room. his blindfold had been discarded at one point or another, something he made a habit of doing when it was just the two of you.

"what are we having tonight, chef?"

"me? i'm having braised chicken thighs. i'm not sure about you though," you tease.

you didn't invite him to dinner, he just kind of followed you back to your place after sparring practice. you don't really mind, you never do, not that you'd ever admit it out loud.

"you wouldn't give me your candy bar and now you won't have dinner with me either? today is the worst! is this still about the tree? i told you i was sorry-"

"geez i was just kidding!" you cut him off. "of course you can have some, but only if you get the flour off the top shelf for me."

"i guess that's a fair trade," he reasons, rising to his feet lazily.

the cabinet is just to your left, so his body presses into yours as he reaches up, the contact making your heart flutter.

"thanks," you exhale when he sets it down within your reach.

he doesn't return to his sitting position, just leans against the counter and watches you carefully stir the ingredients in the pan.

"do you like me?" he inquires suddenly.

"nope."

"hm, do you like like me?" he suggests, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"gojo, that's honestly defamatory."

he rolls his eyes playfully. "c'mon, be serious."

"you be serious," you challenge the usually facetious man.

"i am."

resting your spoon on the pan, you turn to face him, unsure if he's just messing with you like always. the room is silent, save for the faint popping of oil, as he waits for you to say something.

"why do you wanna know?"

"'cause i like you, why else?"

your hands gather the fabric of your apron nervously, crumpling it between your fingers while you avoid his gaze. his words strike you as entirely implausible. after all, he's gojo and you're, well, you.

"you... you shouldn't joke about stuff like that."

he laughs at you and it breaks your heart a little, but then you feel two lithe hands on either side of your face. "(y/n), look at me."

you do, albeit apprehensively, and his eyes bore into your own with an intensity you aren't familiar with. it makes your knees feel weak. a smile tugs at his lips before they capture your own, the movement slow and soft.

your fingers reach up to wrap around his wrist, an attempt to steady yourself against him, before one of his hands travels down to your hip and gives it a light squeeze.

you taste so sweet, feel so perfect in his hands, that gojo kicks himself for waiting so long to kiss you. his lips move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, then begin to work their way up your jaw. he hums against your skin, satisfied with the breathy noises he's pulling from your throat.

then, the smell of burning invades your senses and you pull away from each other with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison. "the food!"

[nerdygirlramblings]

Off to See the Wizard (8)

previous | next

cw: poorly attempted accents

Soap offers to walk you back to the barracks after dinner, and you can't bring yourself to tell him no. You've put in more than a full 12 hours, and can't find a way to use your office as an excuse. When he suggests joining the others in the rec room, you tell him you'd prefer a quiet evening alone. You hope he understands and takes the message back to the rest of the team. He's given you a lot to think about, and all you want is some quiet to parse through it and your own feelings.

Three heads whip in his direction as Soap comes through the rec room doors. Gaz immediately notices he's alone while Ghost watches the door for another moment, hope in his eyes that's dashed as Soap shakes his head.

"Sit rep?" Price asks.

Soap shrugs and responds, "Tol' 'er Ah cared for 'er. She asked about las' night, about yoo and me," he motions between himself and Ghost, "bein' close, so Ah said Ah cared for ye too. She got a real funny look on 'er face, so Ah said Ah thought mah heart was big enough for more than one. Dinnae ken 'ow she took it cuz she went quiet after."

Price sighs heavily, running his hand over his face. "Well, it wasn't how we planned to tell 'er, but it was a good call, Soap." He eyes the other man. "Did ya mention me 'r Gaz when ya talked about yer big heart?"

Soap shakes his head quickly. "No' at all. Could see she was struggling wi' me carin' for her an' Si. Didnae wanna make it worse."

Price's head falls back against the recliner. He takes a deep breath and huffs it out. Then he looks at Gaz. "We're down to four days, Garrick. Don't know if ya wanna try tonight or wait, but we're still countin' on ya to close this." His eyes rake over his lover. "Soap laid the groundwork after last night's disaster, but it's up to you to make her see wha' we have an', more importantly, wha' we want."

One of the first emails you see the next morning is from Laswell. She's asking you to meet with one of her contacts at a location off base. You're glad John told you where to get the bus into town, but you don't know the town well enough to know where this location is. You debate trying to find one of your the boys for help, but between movie night and Soap's confession, you're not quite sure what to say to any of them.

You did some digging on your personal device, using untraceable proxies, to learn more about having multiple partners at the same time. You came across the phrase polyamory, which seems to fit what Soap was hinting at, but you're not sure. And you definitely don't feel confident asking.

Like any other problem you can't solve, you're putting this one off to the side for now to focus on other things. Like how to get to the meeting location.

In the end, you find Corporal Avery and ask her where you should go. She's able to provide you a rough map of town including where the bus will let you off and how to get to your location. She offers to accompany you, and when you worry she'd get in trouble, she says, "Can say it's part of my official duties per Captain Price's orders, ma'am." She smiles big, and you remind yourself to lean on her for company when the 141 are gone. But you decide to head to the meeting alone. You don't know who this contact is, and with Kate, their personal information might be classified or confidential in some way. You can't bring Corporal Avery for the safety of whomever you're meeting, a thought that leaves quite quickly when you step into the cafe two hours later to see it empty of everyone except the girl behind the counter and Kyle.

You look around, waiting for someone else, someone you don’t know, to make an appearance. Instead it’s simply Kyle who smiles big and waves you over. You stop just short of his table. “What are you doing here, Kyle?” You work to keep your tone level, curious, not accusatory.

“Asked Laswell for a favor. Needed ta see you, Oz,” he tells you. “You’re avoiding us.” There’s no pretense, no hiding. It’s unlike him to be so blunt.

“I’m doing my job, Kyle,” you say. “The one Laswell sent me to do to help you.”

Kyle stands and pulls out the other chair at his table for two, clearly indicating you should sit. “What yer doin' isn’t helping us, doll," he says softly.

You rear back. “Not helping?!?” you whisper hiss, sitting down. You lean over the table, masking your hurt with anger. “What the hell does that mean?”

Kyle quickly sits to join you. “Shit, no, that’s not what I mean,” he rushes out. He runs a hand down his face and mutters under his breath.

You shift back, annoyed, trying to get as far from him as you can while staying at the table. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms and don whatever armor you can for what seems like a rather unpleasant confrontation in the middle of the Costa. “If I’m not helping, maybe Laswell should send someone else.”

You can’t believe you’d been so excited about finally meeting your the boys. You refuse to cry, but this conversation needs to end quickly if you’re going to keep from balling your eyes out.

“Oz, doll…” Kyle trails off, mouth opening several times as he tries to pull his thoughts together. “This is harder than I thought it’d be,” he admits wearily. He tries to catch your eye but can’t match your glare. “We don’t want someone else. We want you.” He reaches for your hands, and despite how much you want to hold onto anger, you know it’s your heart you're trying to protect.

But that traitorous organ can't resist, so you timidly slip one hand in his. Kyle grips it like a lifeline. “We want you, Oz. No one else is better at this job than you.” You both know he’s stretching things a bit as Laswell is clearly better suited to this than you, but she can’t be in all places. It’s what she trusts you for.

You take a shaky breath. “I think I need you to explain it to me, then, Kyle. If you want me here, if you don’t want or trust someone else to do this job, then how is it I’m not helping?”

“Yer amazing at what ya do,” Kyle quickly replies. “But ignoring us isn’t helping us.” He must see the confusion on your face because he adds. “Yer helping the mission, but ya aren’t helping us.” He widens his eyes at the end, trying to tell you something, but you can’t figure it out.

You shake your head and are about to tell him you don’t understand when he squeezes your hand in his and asks you to look at him. “Doll, we want you. Not for the mission but for us.”

You know you must look ridiculous because you gape at him for several long moments in which he says nothing, does nothing. He waits for a reaction. You can see the tension in his shoulders, and he still has both of his hands wrapped around yours, but he doesn’t push, and he doesn’t clarify.

You think about what Soap revealed at dinner last night. About Simon’s outright declaration. About John’s not-so-subtle pick-up line. About Simon and Kyle and Soap practically cuddling on the couch. About John and Kyle’s kiss. The pieces are there, but your brain refuses to believe it. “Are you saying you and…” you trail off, not sure where this thought is actually going.

“Me and Ghost and Soap and the captain, yes,” he says, helping to refocus you.

“Are you saying you’re all together?” He nods. “In…in…in some kind of polyamorous thing?” Kyle admits he isn’t sure because he doesn’t know what polyamorous is, never felt like he needed a label for how he feels about the others. “So you’re all together together. And you all want me?” It’s almost too much for your brain to comprehend.

"Yes." Kyle says it so simply, as though his declaration makes every bit of sense. "'s been you fer us fer a long time. Only you."

He looks at the table where his hands are wrapped around yours and says the next so quietly you can almost pretend you don't hear it. "We weren't meant to be together. Not like tha'. We're supposed to be task force. A fighting force. A killing force." He shrugs, almost lost in his thoughts. "Somewhere along the way, tha' changed. I can't speak fer the others, but I never expected any of it. I never expected to be involved with my superiors. Never thought I'd love these men as anything more than Brothers in arms. But it happened. And now it's us. Us against the bad guys. Us against the world. Us watching one another."

He takes a deep ragged breath. And then he looks at you, looks right through to the very heart of you. "Then you came along. And you watched our backs. And you kept us company on those long, lonely nights. And you made sure we were safe. That we were making it back to one another whole. So yeah, it's you, Oz. We thought we were enough, but yer the peace we're missing. And if we're too much, if we read this wrong, then we'll just go back to what it was before. But we needed to let you know what we want before we go off on this mission where we might not all come home."

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 9 part 10

~~

Taglist: @blackhawkfanatic @starriestarlight @grayskel @mxtokko @imjustheretofightforlove @miss-vanta-likes-to-write @thriving-n-jiving @madsothree @silly-starfish @danielle143 @beelzebee @nova-willow-541 @alchemyfreak321 @lilynotdilly @eternallyelvish @viylikescats @erintaro @hidden-treasures21 @lil-writer-523

[ohimsummer]

BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing

wc 1.9k

You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.

This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.

“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.

“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.

Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.

“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.

You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.

“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.

His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”

“Make me, I said.”

And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.

You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”

Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“

“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.

“Oh? Who’s that?”

Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.

“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“

Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.

You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.

Geto starts. “She-“

“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.

“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.

Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”

“Well, you’re surely not helping.”

Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“

His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-

There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.

Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”

You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.

Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.

“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.

Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”

His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.

The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”

Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”

You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”

Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.

You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.

“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.

“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.

Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.

“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.

And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”

Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.

“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”

“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.

“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.

“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”

The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”

Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”

You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.

Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.

“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.

Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.

Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.

You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”

For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.

Geto speaks first. “What was that?”

And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”

Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”

The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.

“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.

You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.

No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.

(aftermath)

[slimybeth69]

Pretty Pink Nails

Summary: Joel gets you a special treat while out on a supply run but it comes at a price. rating: explicitwarnings: (perceived) dark!Joel, dub-con/ referenced non-con, age gap (reader knows about nail polish/ joel is 50ish), pussy/dick pronouns.

"You ever see nail polish when you go out?" You sigh with a hint of sadness laced in your tone. Joel can see it all over your face, with your big eyes and softly furrowed brows.

Joel rubs his hands down your shins and his fingers tug mindlessly at the worn elastic of your threadbare socks. "I've never looked for it, darlin'." His eyes never leave your face as you continue your inspection of your dirty fingernails. "Why're you askin'?"

"Just wonderin'," you murmur, taking one last look at your hands before huffing quietly to yourself, letting them fall into your lap in what looks like defeat.

A hint of a smile plays across Joel's lips. "You want Daddy t'look next time he goes on a supply run?"

Your eyes dart to his face, already beaming as he wraps his hand around your delicate ankle. All you can do is nod excitedly and press the ball of your foot into the front of his jeans gently moving it up and down the soft bulge.

"Whatever my princess wants, she gets..." Joel's eyes drop down to watch you tease him. "Ain't that right?"

Truth is, Joel hasn't seen anything but dirty, unkempt fingernails wrapped around the thick girth of his cock for over twenty years. Not that he ever complained, it was a product of the environment. He noticed though; noticed how no one ever had the time to be so meticulous in their grooming habits to worry about it. His hardened heart softened at the innocence of your yearning.

It was hard for Joel to not do everything he could to put a smile on your face out here in the decay of what used to be a busy city that was full of life. Now it was almost a wasteland run by soldiers that he had to bribe to sneak him out to try and find you fucking nail polish.

Two weeks later you were in the tub, washing up before bed just like Joel had told you-- just like the good girl Joel trained you to be.

You hadn't always been so pliant in his demands for obedience, but he broke you eventually, and now you listen so well.

When he enters the bathroom and sits down on the edge of the tub, you smile up at him, the steamy, suds-less water does nothing to hide away the parts Joel has already memorized about you.

"Thanks for makin' dinner tonight, Daddy."

"You're so welcome, sweet girl." Joel leans down and presses a kiss to your damp forehead. "I got you somethin' else ya' can thank me for," he mumbles against your skin.

From the back pocket of his jeans he pulls out a plastic bristled brush to scrub your nails with, and a bottle of polish that's cotton candy pink with a slight shimmer.

Your eyes go wide, and they almost look like they're filling with tears as you take the gifts into your hands. You start to thank him again when Joel pushes his thumb into your mouth and presses the calloused pad onto your tongue.

"Now th'only way you get t'keep those is if you show Daddy how pretty them lil fingers look wrapped around him later. That sound fair, baby girl?"

"Yeth, Daddy." You lisp before your lips wrap around the knuckle of his digit, nodding as you swirl your soft, warm muscle around it slowly.

Joel pulls his hand away from your mouth with a soft, wet pop and stands. "Good. Now get all nice and prettied up, and you know where t'come find me when ya' ready." He winks at you before leaving you alone in the bathroom once again. Joel loves finding ways to take good care of his baby girl.

You take your time in the tub, carefully scrubbing your nails clean with the new brush Joel brought you. Excitement flutters in your belly as you apply the shimmery pink polish with a steady hand.

Once your nails are dry, you slip into your favorite silky nightgown, the one that barely skims your mid-thigh, another nice thing Joel surprised you with a while ago.

The fabric clings to your damp skin as you quietly pad into the living room where Joel is sitting in his armchair, one ankle resting on his knee as he cleans his revolver. He looks up when you enter, his eyes trailing over your naked body.

"There's my pretty girl," he purrs appreciatively, setting the gun aside as his eyes roam. "Come'ere and show Daddy them sweet lil' fingers."

You walk over to him, a sultry sway to your hips, and perch yourself on his lap. “Here ya’ go, Daddy.”

He takes one of your hands and studies your neatly polished nails, nodding in approval.

"Such a good job, baby. Now, remember what you promised..." His voice trails off suggestively as he guides your hand down to the stiffening bulge in his jeans.

You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on Joel's as your fingers trace over the shape of his hardening cock through the denim. "I remember. I want to make you feel so good, as a thank you for my pretty nails."

Joel groans approvingly, his hand covering yours and pressing it more firmly against him. "That's my good girl. Go on now, take him out."

With deft fingers, you unbutton his jeans and slowly tug down the zipper. Joel lifts his hips, allowing you to slide both his jeans and boxers down his, hairy, muscular thighs, freeing his thick, hard cock. It juts upward, the swollen head already drooling with a bead of precum.

"Thank you so much, Daddy," you purr lovingly, wrapping your small hand around his thick shaft, almost unable to close your fist around it. The shimmery pink of your nail polish is a stark contrast against his tanned skin as you start to stroke him slowly from base to tip.

Joel lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair. "That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," he encourages gruffly, his large hand coming to rest on your silk-clad thigh. “Spit on him, baby.”

You gather saliva in your mouth and let it drip slowly onto the head of Joel's throbbing cock. It dribbles down the shaft as you spread it with your fingers, making him slick and shiny.

"Good girl," Joel praises, his hand sliding higher up your thigh, pushing the silky fabric out of the way. "Get him nice and slippery."

You curl your fist around his girth again, and begin gliding your fist up and down, rotating your wrist because that's the way Joel showed you. The pink polish gleams in the low light as your hand works over his length.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts, his hips flexing up into your grip. "Love seein' him all wrapped up in your sweet lil' hand."

You preen under the praise, encouraged to tighten your grasp as you increase the pace. The wet sound of your stroking fills the room along with Joel's heavy breathing and occasional grunts of pleasure. His hand slides further up your thigh, pushing under the hem of your nightgown to cup your bare mound.

"Oh!" you gasp in surprise as his thick fingers delve between your already slick folds, playing teasingly over your sensitive clit. 

"Shh, keep goin' princess," he encourages, circling your nub slowly. "Wanna feel’er slick up my fingers while ya’ stroke him with them pretty hands."

“I want him inside,” you whimper needily but obey, pumping your fist faster over his rigid, throbbing cock, working him steadily and twisting on the upstroke and rubbing your thumb over his sensitive tip to spread the precum dribbling from his cock.

"Nuh uh," he tuts disapprovingly. "She ain't gonna get him inside now, not when ya’ wanna be a greedy girl. You just focus on makin' him feel real good with those hands Daddy worked so hard t’make pretty." To emphasize his point, he gives your cheek a light slap, just enough sting to make you whimper.

You pout but know better than to protest further, instead you double your efforts to please him. You fondle his heavy balls with your other hand as you pump his shaft, loving how powerful and masculine he feels.

Joel's fingers continue to toy with your soaked slit, occasionally dipping just the tips inside your fluttering hole but never giving you the satisfaction of filling you up like you crave. It's maddening, the way he keeps you on edge.

You moan desperately, grinding your hips down against his teasing fingers, trying to force them deeper. "Please Daddy, I need it... need you inside me so bad."

"Nah baby girl, this is what'cha get for bein' a needy lil' thing. You just focus on your task now." He captures your wrist, forcing you to squeeze him tighter as he thrusts up into your grip.

Tears of frustration prick at your eyes, but you’re well trained and determined to please him. You know if you're a good girl, he'll reward you eventually.

"Don't slow it down none," Joel groans. So you pour all your desperation into stroking him just how he likes, twisting and pumping.

His words encourage you to keep working Joel's cock faster and harder, desperate to earn his praise and your own release. His fingers continue to tease your dripping slit mercilessly, keeping you on the precipice without letting you tumble over.

"Daddy," you whine, grinding down against his hand. "I've b-been such a good girl, I need it, need you so bad..."

"Shh, patience now. You'll get what's comin' to ya." Joel's voice is a low growl, thick with lust. He lets you squirm and whimper for a moment longer before suddenly plunging two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your aching cunt.

"Oh fuck, thank you Daddy!" you cry out, walls clenching greedily around the welcome intrusion.

Joel’s hand connect with your cheek harder than last time, the burning sting ripping through your flesh. “Fix ya’ filthy mouth,” he growls, his fingers and thumb gripping your face and pushing your lips into a soft pout.

“M’sorry…” You whine quietly. “Please don’t stop…”

"There's my desperate girl.” Joel smirks at your desperation, fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt as you work him feverishly. "That's right baby, work for it. Make Daddy feel real good and maybe he'll let this hungry lil' pussy cum on his fingers."

You continue working Joel's massive shaft with your hand, your pretty pink nails looking so delicate wrapped around his thick girth. The contrast is mesmerizing to you both.

His fingers plunge in and out of your soaked, needy hole, curling to rub your most sensitive spots that Joel mapped out inside you long ago.

The combined sensations of Joel's fingers pumping inside you and the feeling of his thick cock throbbing in your hand are overwhelming. You're trembling with need, desperately trying to focus on pleasuring him while your own arousal builds to a fever pitch.

"Daddy, please," you whimper, your hips rocking against his hand. "I'm s-so close..."

Joel's eyes darken with lust as he watches you struggle to maintain control. "Not yet, princess. Gotta earn it first." Despite his words, he increases the pace of his fingers, thumb roughly circling your clit as he fucks you with his thick digits.

Your hand falters on his cock as pleasure courses through you.

"Don't you dare stop," Joel growls, his free hand gripping your wrist tightly. "Keep goin' or you don't get to cum at all."

Whimpering, you force yourself to focus, pumping him faster as your body trembles on the edge of release. Joel's breath comes in harsh pants, his hips bucking up into your grip.

"That's it, just like that," Joel groans, his eyes locked on your hand flying over his cock, pink nails a blur. "Gonna paint them pretty fingers white..."

His fingers curl inside you, rubbing insistently against your g-spot as his thumb circles your clit. The pleasure is almost unbearable, but you fight against your impending orgasm, knowing you'll be punished if you cum without permission.

"Please Daddy," you beg breathlessly. "I can't hold it much longer..."

"Just a little more, darlin'," Joel grunts, his cock swelling in your grasp. "Daddy's almost there..."

You stroke him faster, desperate for release. Your wrist aches but you don't dare slow down. Joel's fingers pump in and out of your dripping pussy relentlessly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, with a guttural groan, Joel's hips jerk upward. "Fuck, baby... Cum for me. Now."

At his command, you unravel. Your walls clench rhythmically around his fingers as your orgasm tears through you. At the same time, Joel's cock pulses in your grip, spurting thick ropes of cum over your hand and wrist.

Your body shudders while Joel's fingers continue to work inside you as you milk every last drop of his release onto your trembling hand. The pearlescent strands of cum stand out starkly against your pink nails, and you can't help but stare in fascination.

"That's my good girl," Joel rumbles, his voice thick with satisfaction. He slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering pussy, bringing them up to your lips. "Clean 'em off for me, sweetheart."

Obediently, you part your lips and take them into your mouth, sucking and licking him clean of your own juices. Joel watches you intently, his eyes have that dark, hooded look you've gotten grown to love rather than despise.

"Such a pretty lil thing," he murmurs, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your flushed face. "Now, why don't you keep showin' your Daddy how much you appreciate your new nail polish by cleanin' up the mess you made, hmm?"

You nod eagerly, sliding off his lap and kneeling between his spread thighs. With reverent care, you begin to lick the cooling strands of cum from your fingers and palm, making sure to maintain eye contact with Joel as you do so. His breath hitches as he watches you, his spent cock twitching with interest.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, running his fingers through your hair. "Get it all. Don't want to waste a drop of Daddy's gift, do we?"

You shake your head, “Nuh uh,” you mumble, continuing to lap at your hand until every trace of his release is gone.

Joel groans, his grip tightening in your hair. "Want Daddy t’paint ya’ cute lil toes next?"

this is me taking a swing (and probably missing) at a (semi) dark!Joel fic.

it was heavily inspired by Clean, written by @strang3lov3

thanks for inspiring me to write what I want lady, I appreciate you <3

thank you @saradika-graphics for the dividers and everything else. you're amazing.

[fairlyang]

No Te Contaron Mal 🕷️

w/c: 2.5K

pairing: fwb!miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fwb to lovers, jealousy, stubborn to not tell him, finding out he kissed another girl, getting mad, folding anyway, sucking him off, then getting mad n jealous again, arguing, kinda toxic but funny, reciprocated feelings, dumb confession, making out, grinding, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: something so dumb and silly- y’all this song pisses me off every time i listen to it i HAD to finish this

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

imagine just having a casual thing going on with miguel. you could call it a friends with benefits type of deal but you weren’t exactly going out with other people but it also wasn’t anything exclusive.

now the problem happened when one of your friends told you that she saw miguel kissing another girl at a club. something in that moment changed but you couldn't get yourself to admit that it was jealousy. especially when you made such a big fuss of it being something casual and nothing more.

so you did what you thought was best to get rid of even the mere thought of jealousy/your true feelings for him and just ignored him.

especially because you had gotten into a stupid argument yesterday which probably led to him making that decision in the first place.

the next day he texted you and the pure audacity of a man to want to fuck the night after kissing another girl was astonishing.

but he didn’t know that you knew and even if he did, he’d just tell you that you have no business to complain because you were the one that wanted something casual.

so you were fucked no matter what and folded anyway.

after he ate you out and made you forget all about your inner horrid feelings, you decided to repay the favor so you were between his legs on his bed sucking him off just how he liked.

his praise this time around had you feeling different, in a way made you shy and not want to look at him. so you closed your eyes, thinking it would help if you didn’t see him and that it wouldn’t bring the flashbacks of your heart being broken into little pieces from your friend telling you what she saw last night.

but yet his words now felt gentle, and for once in his life, loving. it was weird but nice. really nice.

you didn’t know what it was, just that your face felt like it was burning and your heart was fucking pounding. there was no way he knew but now it just brought up the question of why did it have to be casual?

why didn’t he wanna take you out to drinks to show you off to his friends? to kiss you in public like you were his? and even though he has you as a reliable booty call, why the fuck did he still feel the need to be kissing other girls?

you've dropped hints here and there, at times bringing your flirt game to extremes so he can figure it out himself but would apparently still be clueless.

if he wanted it to be something more he would’ve told you by now because some things he’s said makes it seem like he did. there was still a part of you that just had an inkling he might feel the same.

but although maybe you were just losing it since he literally kissed another girl last night.

the annoyance and jealousy quickly came back, pissing you off so badly and you couldn’t keep it in anymore. your eyes shot open and you pulled away from him, quickly sitting up and reaching over to put on his shirt to cover yourself while he looked at you confused and concerned, “why the fuck were you kissing another girl last night?”

he scoffed and shook his head in disbelief looking at your face to see if you were joking. he was quiet for a few seconds, absolutely shocked before finally speaking, “are you fucking serious?”

“eva dijo que te vió-“ (eva said she saw you-)

“es enserio…?” he says with the most dumbfounded look on his face, “please tell me you’re fucking with me.” (is this serious/real..?)

“me contó mal o que? ya dime para hacerme la idea de verdad.” you spat and cross your arms against your chest. (did she tell me wrong or what? tell me now so i can have the idea in mind for real)

you weren’t so sure what answer you wanted and knew you had no right to complain but still. this has been a situation for years now and even with all the arguments and the endless bickering, you've still stuck together and never swayed from each other.

until now.

“quieres hablar de esto ahora? ahorita mismo?” he asked and you scoffed, “cuando más?!” (you wanna talk about this now? like now, right at this moment?) (when else?!)

he tried his hardest not to laugh, knowing damn well if he did, you might just kill him.

he was shell shocked, and couldn’t believe this was actually happening. of all possible things he thought you’d be upset at or have to complain about that wasn’t even in his head as an option.

he never would’ve guessed that you knew otherwise he would have avoided sending a text in the first place.

“you’ve got me fucking speechless- i can’t believe this.” he mutters and you chuckle, "can say the same thing about you."

"don't do that-" he starts but you quickly interrupt, "don't do what?"

"you know what." he says calmly and you scoff.

there was a solid moment of silence for maybe a minute before finally he sighs and nods, “i’m gonna answer all your questions okay? but you have to let me finish.”

“fine.”

“no te contaron mal y ni te lo voy a negar.” he starts making you groan but he gives you a look before you could start to complain. (they didn’t tell you wrong and i’m not even going to deny it.)

“we kissed but that was it. maybe a couple times but it was only that.. okay maybe a couple caresses too but that was really it.” he explains and your heart starts beating faster with every passing word.

you give him a look and he sighs, unable to just not tell you the whole truth, “we flirted, i mean what was i suppose to do? you shouldn’t have an opinion on this given you practically cut me off yesterday..”

and before you could even begin to correct him, he just kept going,” and you know what, i got drunk because of you so if you think about it… this is your fault.”

you could only gasp then scoff before he immediately regretted it, shaking his head and coughing, “what i meant to say… that it was just one girl, and one is nothing. especially since it was just a couple kisses.”

“it doesn’t count as anything and truth be told, i couldn’t stop thinking of you.” he says, the last part making you gulp.

“just need you to know that you have me so fucked up in here.” he adds and points to his head.

“i have you fucked up?!!?!” you asked and he nodded.

“yesterday you went on another tangent that this is casual and i believe you said that nothing could change that so tell me, what the fuck changed?” he asked, sitting up and scooting towards you.

beyond annoyed, embarrassed, and lowkey ashamed, you were just about ready to do the walk of shame out of his apartment and drive your ass home. but he wasn’t going to let you.

there was determination in his eyes and you didn’t think you’d give him a confession in this point and time. let alone after being the one to always remind him it was nothing serious but yet it’s been serious.

at least it was on your end.

you’ve just been digging a hole to store those feelings in because after doing this with him for so long, you didn’t actually expect to gain something else for him that wasn’t purely sexual.

“i figured if i was the one to keep repeating this was as casual as can be then maybe…” you start then take a very deep breath before letting it out and looking away from him.

“then maybe i’d stop thinking of you in another way. or that i wouldn’t get excited when you’d text me or that i wouldn’t laugh at your stupid fucking jokes.” you explain, letting out a chuckle before continuing, “i just figured if i kept repeating the same thing over and over that i’d be able to convince myself that i didn’t like you. that this really is casual and that i haven’t lost it.”

you stopped and relaxed, taking slow breaths while you felt him scoot closer to you. you were already dreading this whole conversation and wish you could just fly away from your problems.

but unfortunately that wasn’t an option.

his hand went to your chin, gently bringing it up so you could look into his eyes. he had a stupid grin on his face while he just sighed and shook his head, “you’re too fucking stubborn.”

he moved his hands to your cheeks and brought your face to his, surprising you with a kiss while you gasped and quickly kissed him back. he smiled through the kiss, finding it to be sweet and freeing, given this was completely unplanned but not unwelcomed.

you quickly straddled him while he moved you both back so he could be closer to the pillows. your hands were already in his curls tugging on them while he slid his tongue into your mouth and his hands went down to your hips, making you grind against his hard on. you both moaned and you quickly ate it up, gliding your tongue against his while you grind against him bare.

his hands gripped your skin, somewhat tugging on his shirt wanting to take it off but you were making the kiss so hot and sloppy, he couldn’t be bothered to actually take it off you. he brought a hand down, moving his dick so you can slide on it better, knowing it won’t take too long before you get impatient.

but you weren’t, at all.

you were so caught up in the kiss that neither of you pulled away and didn’t feel the need to like you would any other day. hell, you never really kissed ever but after a confession like that, it felt right.

so you continued kissing him like your life depended on it while occasionally moaning into his mouth making him do the same.

meanwhile his hands were grabbing, and squeezing every part of your body.

up and down your back, on your thighs, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, smacking your ass. absolutely everything while you kept slowly grinding against his dick, leaving it all wet with your slick.

he was trying his hardest not to explode and just deal with the edging, as well as how warm and wet you were just because he couldn’t believe this was happening. he had to restrain himself, he didn’t want to waste a load that could easily be inside you.

you felt him twitching and your poor pussy was clenching, so you decided enough was enough and brought a hand down to his dick, lifting yourself up a bit and line his tip to your entrance.

he softly kissed you while you did so, just slowly lowering yourself down, taking him in and feeling him stretch you out. he tried his best to keep quiet but his head was mush and he was losing it.

once you bottomed out, he moaned in your mouth then pulled away, “fuck-“

you leaned your forhead against his and lifted your ass up just to slam down making him hiss, “eager huh?”

you chuckle and shrug, “maybe, may as well right?”

“seems you’re close anyway baby.” you tease making him playfully roll his eyes.

“some things never change huh?” he teases back and holds onto your hips, helping you come up.

he then makes you go down and you go back up again before he slams you down. you then do it all again but this time without stopping since you’d gotten enough practice to actually be able to ride him yourself.

he just very occasionally liked lending a helping hand or two.

and not just because he was greedy but also because he knew how much you love his touch. so it was to no surprise one hand was on your hip and the other came up front to squeeze one of your breasts.

you moved faster, wanting this to be a short ride so you could just lay in his arms afterwards and hear his own confession. at times he was a man of few words but tonight didn’t feel like one of those times.

especially not with how extra touchy feely and vocal he is.

it was like a miracle in disguise that you confessed, he was praising you like never before and even looking at you differently. in the best way imagineable too. maybe there was a chance he always has looked at you in a loving way or maybe it was just wishful thinking but it’s definitely the real deal now.

suddenly he grabs your head and you’re now looking over his shoulder, “your patience ran thin baby?” you whisper in his ear and he just grunts, “just hold on.”

you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same before he started thrusting into you making you jump and hold onto him tighter. he was fucking into you with ease, his thighs doing the work for him while you cried out into his shoulder.

your nails dug into his shoulder blade and back only motivating him to do it even faster. he was hitting your sweet spot so effortlessly and it was too good.

too good that you already felt your orgasm build up in your lower belly. you gasped and tried to control your moans but with his ruthless pace it was to no use and they blessed his ears anyway.

“baby i’m so close- fuck- it’s too much.” you whine making him let out a loud groan.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. gonna cum so good for me, aren’t you pretty girl?” he murmurs amiing whimpers leave your mouth.

“i always take good care of you, don’t i?” he asked and you just hum, nodding.

you held onto him even tighter and lay your head on his shoulder as he thrusted harder into you. the sounds were even louder than before and him doing it like this made it feel ten times better just because he can hit your sweet spot deeper.

you closed your eyes shut as your orgasm hits your entire body, leaving you shaking and crying out while miguel spilled his load inside you also shaking. your body spasmed a bit and your walls entrapped miguel’s cock, making him groan and give one final thrust to ride out your highs.

you were both breathing heavily and holding onto each other while attempting to catch your breaths. miguel took deep breaths and laid down properly while you shifted around to get comfortable and lay your head on his chest.

he kissed the top of your head then your forehead and let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around you gently. your eyes felt heavier by the second and the last thing you heard was him saying this was never casual for him before drifting off to sleep.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion: 

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 

Gale: 

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll: 

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 

Halsin: 

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc: 

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 

Raphael: 

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 

The Emperor: 

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: class A banter

words: 3.5k

Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...

a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.

Link to my masterlist

Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.

You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.

It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.

You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.

“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.

“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.

Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.

You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.

“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.

“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.

“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.

“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.

When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.

"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.

"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.

After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.

"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.

"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.

"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.

“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.

“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.

“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.

You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.

The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.

You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.

It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.

You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.

"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.

Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.

"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.

"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.

“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.

“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.

“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.

When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.

You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.

You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.

Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.

When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.

You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.

"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.

When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.

Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.

When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.

“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.

You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They’re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.

Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.

“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.

The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.

“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.

“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.

“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.

“Thank you, but just because they’re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.

Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?

“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.

“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.

“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.

You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.

“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.

“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.

“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.

“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.

You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.

next: Part 3

[anzulvr]

korosensei does this haunted house thing and makes class e go in it, the reader is really unamused so reader and karma work together to scare the crap out of korosensei

i've seen videos where people hide and reverse the roles in a haunted house instead of being a victim, i think it would be hilarious to see that with a stoic-ish reader and karma

Haunted - Karma x Reader // THIS THING DELETED TWICEE //

- End class had been completely transformed back into an abandoned looking building, much like its original state but with more of a horror factor. Korosensei went all out with Halloween decorations. He'd tried to set a few students up during the last school trip at the abandoned caves he called the "test of courage". It didn't work out, but second times a charm? He'd at least get one couple together this time.

The goal of today's "lecture" was to find a way out of the end class building without breaking any windows. Korosensei mentioned it would test everyone's problem solving abilities as assassins in training. First pair to successfully find the exit through a series of side quests, riddles and puzzles each got two free strikes at Korosensei's tentacles.

The catch? Everyone had a a rope tied around their wrist to a partner. Every move made meant your partner would be right beside you. You got stuck with Karma. You suspected it was not likely by coincidence.

Karma is very cute, but he's also the second worst classmate to be tied to. (First goes to Okajima)

“Karma will you stay still for one minute? You’re bruising my wrist!”

"I'm trying to reach the envelope on the ceiling, will you jump at the right time?"

"There's an easier way to do that."

You yanked the rope on him making him stumble over to you, you brought out a desk together and he was able to use it as a stool.

He opened the envelope and read it to you, "If you found this note go to teachers lounge to look for your next assignment.”

Hint: Keep your eyes out for something four-legged that cannot walk and has a back but no front.

You and Karma headed over to the designated location when you bumped into Rio and Okajima who looked like they wanted to kill one another.

Rios eyes softened when she looked at you. "[Name]! How's your search going?"

"Well we found a-"

Karma put his hand over your mouth before you could tell them about the note. He's not risking his win. "It's going boring, but we do need this room to ourselves, ya mind leaving?"

"Oh you want to be aloneee? Okajima get moving!"

Rio pushed him out the door. "Why couldn't I get stuck with Kanzaki..." "IM THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE COMPLAINING YOU..." Their argument got quieter as they left the area.

You looked back at Karma, "She definitely got the wrong idea."

"Yeah I wouldn't kiss you in this room."

You glared at him, "Solve the riddle before I choke you with the same rope we're tied to."

He mocking stuck his tongue out "Four legs, doesn't walk, it's obviously a chair [Name]! This is too easy."

He turned to get the envelope stuck under one of the chairs.

"Let's read it in the hall, the lights in this room are acting up."

You turned the handle but the door wouldn't budge. You started shaking the door harder hoping it would open. Karma chuckled, then he tried to open it himself and it wasn't so funny anymore.

"Do you think this is apart of the test or are we stuck?" You ask Karma.

He grinned "Change of plans, If Korosensei comes in here I'm going to need you to act possessed."

"I agree we've got to teach him a lesson on not playing Cupid or whatever but how do I do that?"

"Act crazy? Like you normally are but with more enthusiasm and growling."

You snatched the letter from him, "I'll read it."

Instructions: Close the blinds, then hold your partner's hands, chant your names in unison three times... the spirit you summon will lead you to the next step.

Holding Karmas hand while a spirit, Korosensei came to scare you two? It was clear He was trying to get you to cling onto the guy, you could only wonder how many classmates fell for one of his cheap tricks already?

Your question was quickly answered when you heard a girlish scream that sounded eerily like Maehara. Atleast one!

You chanted your names with your hands knitting together the lights completely went off in the room, you braced yourself for what would come.

Korosensei flew into the room and busted the door, you noticed his weird costume as he stood right in-front of you reciting cliche warrior dialogue you could've swore you heard in some movie Karma made you watch a week ago, Sonic Ninja something.

Without missing a beat you twisted your back and hands and started charging backwards towards your teacher, Karma had to crouch weirdly and run at the same time to not drag you down.

Korosensei sped out of the room yelling, about ten seconds later he was back with a set of candles and who knows what else to try to exorcise you.

By that time you and Karma were laughing trying to pick each other back up after you hit yourself on the ground because he stopped running and accidentally yanked you back.

Karma pointed down at Korosensei's wig which fell off when he flew out the class "Was he wearing a powdered wig?!"

Neither of you had noticed Korosensei made it back because of how much you were laughing. Karma ran his one free hand through your hair and face as if to check if you were hurt. It was weirdly gentle for how he usually is. He was casual about it, his confidence made moments like these feel completely natural and comfortable no matter how rare they were.

Maybe the haunted house didn't go exactly how Korosensei intended it to, but this was a sweet enough outcome.

"Nufufufu…"

"Korosenseiii, you ruined the moment!"

Karma laughed softly "That was a moment?"

You headed straight for the door.

"[Name] I'm still tied to you slow down!"

When you refused to listen he tugged back on the rope and wrapped his arms around you.

“Alright, I concede it was a little bit of a moment.”

[doumadono]

Hello, princess!

Since Sinful Sunday is here and its been a while from my last time spawing in your inbox... YOUR WOLF IS HERE 🐺💎🩵

As we all know: dragons are often showed with two 🍆 so...

I can't stop but think about our beloved Iudex of Fontaine, just giving his lovely assistant a good duble stuffing into her tiny cunt. With him whispering soft and dirty stuff into her ear while his hand just caressing the bulge he caused in her belly

:3 HAPPY SINFUL SUNDAYS EVERYONE

SINFUL SUNDAY

A/N: well, well, my babygirl! Why is it that your requests always turn out to be the real brain-busters, huh!? But hey, tackling Neuvilette in dragon form was a blast 😏 I'm hoping I did well, so go easy on me, will ya?

Neuvilette loathed this monthly occurrence. While not a regular happening, his heats sporadically struck after each interlunar interval. This left him in an intense state of longing, coupled with a rather sour mood, given the frustration of unmet desires. Throughout this period, he confined himself to his chambers, enduring the discomfort until the fervor and accompanying torment subsided.

During his heats, Neuvilette found solace in transforming into a dragon. It made resisting the temptation to copulate with every woman in his path a whole lot easier for him.

For extended hours, he'd find solace in grinding his hips against his pillows and sheets, attempting to alleviate the persistent discomfort of his arousal that created a painful knot within his groin. The effectiveness varied — sometimes it brought relief, and other times, it offered no respite whatsoever.

With a wide yawn revealing numerous long teeth, a colossal head adorned in pale blue frills lifted itself. The snake-like body, embellished in iridescent scales, boasted a chest adorned with a mane of transparent fur. Enormous, clawed fists rhythmically clenched and relaxed as the dragon effortlessly rose to his feet, a massive tail gracefully swinging in its wake. The creature's dark blue eyes blinked open, while his nostrils expanded to welcome a fresh scent of human into his awareness.

His thin lips curled as the hydro dragon shifted his gaze to the opposite side of the expansive chamber where he rested, emitting a loud sniff. The scent conveyed the presence of a woman – fairly young and with other unspoken needs. His eyes narrowed into glowing slits as he navigated the corner of his bedroom, spotting the silhouette by his desk diligently assembling documents. Another quick sniff and a subtle grin played on his lips - he recognized the familiar scent. It was Y/N, one of his most reliable assistants, apparently delivering another set of documents for his signature.

Brave or foolish, maybe a bit of both, stepping into this place during this time of the month, the dragon mused to himself with a deep rumble in his voice.

The dragon glided closer with cautious steps, his sinuous body gracefully twisting around you.

Unaware of his approach, you continued to hum a gentle melody under your breath. A sudden awareness dawned as you perceived a looming shadow. Startled, you raised your head and attempted to wriggle away. "Monsieur Neuvilette!" you exclaimed, hand over your chest. "Good gracious, you startled me! I had no idea you were in your chamber, monsieur."

"Please, be calm," the dragon murmured in a soothing tone, "I have no wish to harm you, dearest Y/N."

"I… didn't know I would wake you up, I didn't want to disturb your peace," you stammered after an uneasy pause, your eyes unwavering. The marvel at the sight of Neuvilette was twofold – a mix of awe and a hint of fear regarding his possible reaction to your intrusion. Indeed, Neuvilette was a magnificent creature! The glisten of his smooth blueish-white scales, the cascade of a silky white mane adorning his head, and the kindness reflected in his dark marine blue eyes were as breathtaking as the legends and paintings had portrayed.

"Solitude suits me, indeed," the dragon replied, his nostrils subtly flaring. "Especially during my heats. But I assume you've brought me some crucial documents, haven't you, my dearest?"

His thick tail coiled gently around your legs, offering a comforting warmth that eased your tension. "Y-Yes, monsieur. They need to be signed by tomorrow… Can I somehow repay for bothering you and waking you up, monsieur?" you asked, your words slipping out before careful consideration.

In those immense eyes, you observed a dance of emotions. The dragon appeared to ponder, deeply inhaling the air as his head lifted, pointing towards the ceiling. "I suppose… there is a way you could serve me, my dearest Y/N. But fear not, it demands no great effort on your part — only a willingnes."

"What do you mean, monsieur Neuvilette?" you inquired, tilting your head slightly. The tail encircling your legs tightened, a hint of your tension causing the massive creature to pause.

Neuvilette brought his face inches from yours, his voice carrying a gentle plea. "What I seek from you is your willingness to share this night with me, my dearest. Will you, just for tonight, play the role of my mate?"

In an instant, all color drained from your face. Your mouth opened, yet no words found their way out, and the dragon drew you closer to his shredded, scaled chest in response.

"You need not fear any harm," the dragon reassured, once again delicately sniffing you as during the initial examination. "I shall be gentle. My kind has mated with humans in the past. I assure you," a claw gently lifted your chin while another stroked your throat, "this night will leave you with naught but a delightful memory."

With a deep sigh, you closed your eyes, and as you reopened them, your pants were neatly folded on the floor. Your white shirt and underclothes soon joined them as you undressed, your heart pounding within your chest.

The dragon's lips curled into a fanged smile, and a long tongue emerged, briefly caressing your cheek. It was warm and slick, yet not unpleasant. "Wonderful," the dragon bemurmured, observing your nervous smile. Once more, the tongue glided over your cheek, this time lingering for a longer moment. "It's been ages since I've had the fortune of a human woman in my bed, especially one as lovely as yourself, dearest Y/N."

"Thank you," you whispered, a blush gracing your features as you briefly shielded your bare breasts with folded arms.

He nudged your side with his snout, a signal for you to venture deeper into the chamber, a cue you promptly followed.

He gestured for you to recline on a king-sized bed, dressed in deep cobalt sheets and adorned with pristine white pillows. Without hesitation, you complied, gently pressing your thighs together and allowing your hands to gracefully depart from your chest.

Soon, Neuvilette's nose and mouth roamed across your form, exploring with snuffs, licks, and playful nips in various places.

Already tantalized by the affectionate gestures, your arousal heightened as the dragon shifted to all fours, hovering over your naked form. You observed something stout emerging from behind his muscular hind legs, a few drops of thick fluid trailing from it as he leaned forward. The dragon now stood over his claim, a half-open mouth revealing a tongue, and marine blue eyes narrowing in a moment of intensity.

"Ah, the agony of not enjoying this every night," the dragon rumbled, your fingers tracing his shaft. It matched the length of your forearm and doubled in girth, pulsating with an enticing energy beneath the soft moonlight streaming through the chamber's ceiling window. Imagining it nestled between your thighs, your core tightened and grew moist in response.

But then, a peculiar sensation gripped you. Casting him a questioning glance, the dragon responded with a knowing smile.

"Indeed, my dearest Y/N, the legends harbored a kernel of truth. Dragons do possess two cocks."

Swiftly, you rested on one elbow, your gaze naturally drawn between his muscular hind legs. A deep blush painted your cheeks as you discovered yet another erect member, pulsating with equal fervor as the first.

Neuvilette's warm tongue traced delicately along the valley between your breasts. "Do you like what you see, my dearest?"

"Yes, monsieur, I just never thought…" you murmured, your lips barely moving.

Swiftly adopting a stance akin to the dragon looming overhead, you took a calming breath and shut your eyes after getting on all fours on the bed.

The outsized dragon pressed his yet-turgid shafts against the expanse of your soft thighs, emitting a low moan as his jaws hovered threateningly over your bare shoulder, teeth grazing without leaving a trace. In a prolonged hiss, the dragon murmured, "How shall I claim you, my dearest? With gentle tenderness or the full extent of my might? Whichever way you wish it, so shall it be."

"I'll take whatever you've got, monsieur Neuvilette," you replied, casting a bold glance over your shoulder at the pulsating dicks.

Their tips were now slick with a dense, creamy fluid, and a shiver ran through you as they glided between your thighs, offering a preview of the impending encounter.

A couple more deep, resonant breaths, a hefty grunt, and the first dragon's shaft eased halfway in your waiting, already drenched slit.

Your eyes instinctively closed, a gasp escaping you, not from pain, but from the unexpected heat emanating from his dick. It felt as though all the dragon's potent warmth converged right there, in his throbbing, large shaft. Every slight motion was accompanied by loud, wet sounds, the dragon adjusting his position with his nose hovering close to the pillow on your right. He harnessed his strength in his hind legs, delivering a forceful thrust that had you crying out for more.

"O-Oh! Goodness gracious! How's that even possible? That you fit in?!!"

Neuvilette chuckled softly, his voice taking on a guttural quality as he quickened his thrusting pace. "You see, my dearest Y/N, I've mentioned before that my kind has mated with humans. How did you think that was possible if you, females, wouldn't be able to accommodate our shafts?"

Each successive thrust grew more potent, propelling additional lengths of the deep blue, rigid flesh into your dripping pussy from behind. The viscous fluid flowed generously out of your abused core, trailing down your parted legs while the shaft pulsated relentlessly, gaining intensity with each beat, akin to a powerful heartbeat.

In an instant, a loud squeak escaped your lips as you sensed a more insistent pressure against your occupied entrance. Glancing over your shoulder, your expression paled at the sight of Neuvilette attempting to maneuver his other dick in. "Neuvilette! You're going to tear me apart!" you gasped, your eyes welling up with the nearly overwhelming pleasure he was already bestowing upon you as his thick cock rubbed along all of your sweet spots.

"Ease up, my dearest Y/N," Neuvilette murmured, smoothly almost fully withdrawing his first shaft before seamlessly layering the second one atop the first and slowly pushing back into you.

Your hands surrendered as he executed the forceful thrust, and the initial stretch proved excruciating. It felt like a searing burn in those first moments, leaving you growling and panting uncontrollably, tears straining your flushed cheeks pressed hardly into the mattress.

"There, there, relax, and you'll manage," Neuvilette coaxed in the gentlest tone he could summon. "Stop tightening up, try to ease your pelvis. Yes, just like that," he praised as you eventually succeeded in relaxing your muscles enough for him to bottom out.

The dragon's tail lifted off the bed, and Neuvilette let out a growl followed by a resounding roar. Heat surged within him as his powerful thrusts, almost forceful enough to break the small human form nestled between his colossal legs, intensified.

Gasping for breath, you'd already experienced a shattering climax and teetered on the brink of another. Your entire body dripped with sweat, and drool hung from your parted lips. The pleasure unleashed by this formidable dragon surpassed anything you could have audaciously imagined. "Neuvilette!" your voice rasped as you cum for another time; your inner walls spasmed uncontrollably around his throbbing, painfully hard shafts.

With one last, hard push, Neuvilette pressed you firmly onto the mattress, grasping the meat of your stuck out ass. A gush of heated, sticky cum erupted from his throbbing dicks, followed by a second, and ultimately a gentler third wave, marking the hydro dragon's descent into exhaustion after intense sex, his breaths now feeble and hurried.

Beneath him, you lay in a state of bliss, your entire body shaking and tingling. Your sticky pussy radiated warmth, and the powerful twinges and aftershocks of an already remarkable climaxes created an unforgettable sensation, unlike anything you had ever experienced in your entire life.

"Thank you, my dearest Y/N," Neuvilette whispered, and you nodded. "Thank you for helping me shake off the tension that's been hanging around for days," he admitted, lying on the bed next to you. He casually draped his long tail over your legs while you reclined beside him on your back.

Then, impulsively playful, you rolled to your side and planted a quick kiss on his bluish snout.

The dragon chuckled, his resonant voice emanating from his robust chest. "Aren't you the cutest assistant, my dearest Y/N?" he mused, yawning widely, revealing rows of perfectly sharp fangs.

You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. "Neuvilette…"

The dragon's dark eyes found yours, and he nodded, granting you permission to speak.

"Would you… I mean, forgive me for the strange question, but maybe next time your heat occurs, perhaps you would need some help too?" you asked shyly, your cheeks turning beet red.

His marine-blue irises shimmered with tenderness as he hummed, contemplating your words. "Little Y/N," he smiled, drawing closer and resting his snout on your naked belly, his gaze meeting your flushed face. "I'll be honored to accept aid from the only one I trust the most." He sniffed and grinned, casting a sly glance toward your glistening mound on his left. "I adore your scent," he confessed, casually bestowing a few gentle licks upon your folds glistening with mixed releases with his warm, extended tongue. "And you taste absolutely delicious, my dearest. Oh, my, my, I'll struggle to wait for the next heat to savor your essence once more, to assert my claim on you. Perhaps then, I'll allow you a glimpse of my human form, in all its vulnerable splendor."

[muzanswaifu]

Out of Options

Sugardaddy!Toji x Fem!Reader

18+

You needed money. He wanted free use. You weren't past making an exchange... until he started to get cheap. What else was a girl to do?

5k Words

Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @mrskokushibo !!!

Sfw Warnings: Sugar Daddy Toji, Sugar Baby Reader, Themes of prostitution, Angst, Bad Communication, Toxic Relationships, Creepy Old Men, Misogyny, Toxic Work Environment, Jealousy

Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Hints of Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! receiving), Cunnilingus, Squirting

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The wooden frame of the bed slammed viciously into the thin walls of the motel bedroom, the withered coat of eggshell white chipping away with the ruthless collision, likely cracking the wood as well. The hellish creaking burned into your ears, scratching at the back of your brain and preventing any chance of relaxing in the moment. You’d had a shitty day, and the fact that this wasn’t even the worst of it was almost sad.

Work was exhausting, stupid old men yelling at you all day that you couldn’t do your job and the lead physician not doing a thing to stop them. Not to mention that you were in charge of most of the side work all day, replacing the instruments and utensils, emptying trash bins, cleaning out inpatient rooms, none of which was given to any of the newer technicians. You were good at what you did. You studied hard in school, you perfected all of your residency, you had astounding references. Your only flaw? Your gender. You were one of the only females in your department - hell - in the entire building. Most either quit or moved to different hospitals, entirely due to the terrible environment. None of your peers or superiors or inferiors respected you. You were always stuck with the dirty, side work while the others got to do what your job actually entailed, and the rare occurrences when you did get the opportunity to work with patients, they were always abusive to you. It was hell.

But what other choice did you have?

All the other openings at other hospitals were either filled or about to be. No other fields or retail jobs made enough pay. You didn’t have near enough money or grounds to seek out legal help. You were stuck. You were desperate for money. You were out of options.

You had family to take care of - two brothers, a sister, your mother. Dad died years ago in a car accident. Mom was already working overtime with two jobs, barely making ends meet. Rent, insurance, taxes, student loans, car payments, groceries, clothing, hospital bills, schooling, existing. It all cost money. So much money. It felt like you were suffocating. You were out of options.

Finally the creaking stopped. You back was already sore beyond belief and your legs numb. Your knees were probably bruised, too. Damn, you could go for some marble cheesecake right now. Your nose scrunched as you smelt the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, you lungs burning from the second hand nicotine.

“Here.”

A wad of cash fell across your back, the paper crunchy and bent. You groaned as you rose up, stretching your back out and hissing at how tight you were. How much was ibuprofen again?

You flicked through the money, your brow furrowing when you shuffled across the last layer.

“This isn’t enough,” you countered.

The end of his cigarette burned gold. He stood in front of the window, brushing away the curtain to peer outside as he took a drawl. He was still naked and didn’t seem in a rush to dress himself.

“It’d be more if ya didn’t make me wear a condom.”

You scowled but kept silent, fidgeting at the sides of your panties where he tied the damn things. The latex was knotted tight with each used rubber, five in total today. It’d be easier to just throw the whole pair away.

He took another hit.

“Won’t make our date on Saturday,” he mumbled, “got plans.”

You were already redressing yourself, desperate to get out of there and get going. Shower. Eat. Jerk off. Go to sleep. There were only so many hours in a day and you still had work in the morning.

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He chuckled softly to himself. “How’s work.”

“Bye, Toji.”

The store wasn’t all that crowded surprisingly. It was Thursday afternoon, but people tended to not follow norms around here when it came to scheduling. They were out of marble cheesecake so you had to get turtle. It was too sweet in your opinion.

Everyone was asleep when you got home, but you were grateful for the privacy. Mom was still at work.

You locked your door and ruffled through your bottom drawer, fetching out your vibrator. The fan in your room was loud so nobody could hear it anyway. God, you were tired.

You never thought of anything particular when you were trying to get off, it honestly depended on the day. Sometimes you thought about getting eaten out slowly by a fireplace. Sometimes you thought about getting dicked down in a dark alley. No matter the scenario, there was only one similarity. You never imagined anyone in particular. You couldn’t put a face to the man. He was big, muscular, strong. You felt safe yet thrilled underneath him. But you couldn’t see him, if that made any sense.

Your sex drive had always been high. Ever since puberty you were antsy and pent up, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to date. Your first boyfriend was overwhelmed with how needy you were, and the moment you sensed his rejection, your attraction to him plummeted. You needed to feel secure before you felt horny. Were you demisexual? Maybe. You weren’t sure and hardly had time to find yourself.

You tried to find another partner again in your third year of college. There was a party at a local bar, and your friends hyped you up to go. You were both drunk, him more than you. He had whiskey dick. You didn’t feel comfortable. You left relatively quickly after calling him an uber. Failed again.

You didn’t try again after that.

You were fine keeping to yourself. You had your own assortment of toys awaiting you in your room. And work only solidified your hatred of the male species. You likely would’ve remained celibate forever if you hadn’t run into Toji.

You had just gotten off work, walking through the subway to catch the next train. Your engine was busted so your car was in the shop. Not many people were around, and the ones that were left after a while since it was taking too long. But you were too tired to walk so you stayed. The sketchy figures in the back didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Finally the train came and you got on, only about six people onboard. The man a couple feet down on the bench smelt like burnt flesh. He had a cigar in his mouth despite the no smoking sign. Whatever, it wasn’t any of your business. Your left side was occupied, surprisingly, despite the abundance of free seats. This man was close, too close. Two others gathered in front of you. 

“Where ya headed to baby?

“Yeah, yeah, you need some company?“

“We’ll treat ya real nice.”

You tried to ignore their taunts, keeping your eyes down and trying to appear as small as possible. You immediately noticed when a knife was drawn.

“We’re tryna talk to you, bitch.”

The blade nicked the bottom of your jaw, your blood running cold.

“Yer makin’ too much ruckus over there.”

Everyone slowly turned to look at who spoke. The man looked without a care in the world.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask you, now did I old man?” The knife was now pointed to him.

He drew a long sigh and took out his blunt, pressing the lit end into the seat, the plastic screaming in agony.

You don’t really remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a blur. Words were said. Punches were thrown. Bones were shattered. The man with the cigarette hardly got up from his seat, really. The next thing you knew he was sat back down and the others were lying on the floor, knocked out. You shifted your feet away so they didn’t get near the bodies.

Awkwardly, you tried to thank him, offer him what little you had in your pocket, mostly out of fear. You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who could so easily hurt people, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Based on the scar that tore into his mouth, he’d seen his fair share of violence. He turned it down. You offered to buy him food. He turned it down. Medical care to clean his fists? He turned it down. You were out of options. Was there anything you could offer him? His answer still burned in your mind.

“You wanna fuck?”

The money afterward was unexpected. You woke up sore and broken, your thighs burning and covered in bruises. He was long gone, in his place a wad of cash that made your eyes bulge. Did he think you were a hooker? You weren’t sure. The sex wasn’t bad. You didn’t get off, but he obviously knew what he was doing. It felt nice. You felt safe.

Your next meeting, he found you walking the streets. Money in hand, stinking of booze. Wagging a room key in your face and giving you an address to go to if you need some money. Maybe he thought you were someone else. You didn’t care. You needed money and didn’t mind the sex. You were always wet enough to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, but it would hurt more after each round. You wish he didn’t last so long. Or for so many rounds. You wondered if he was even human. More money.

You had a couple rules for your… relationship. No kissing. No oral (for either of you). No raw contact or cumming on your body. No telling. You didn’t need a reputation.

He paid based on what he felt like paying you, but he was never stingy so you didn’t mind. Until lately.

He wasn’t paying as much as he used to. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much. Maybe he was getting bored. You were worried.

You needed the money. You always needed money. And this wasn’t paying like it used to. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew what you had to do.

You needed another outlet.

It was going to be hard to find one. You were essentially selling your body, but you still had standards. You refused to sleep with anyone who you didn’t find attractive, anyone who was married, anyone dangerous. Your work was cut out for you.

And since you were now free on Saturday, you would go out then.

You put your siblings to bed early, double checking with mom that she’d be out until early morning. You dressed nice but not too nice. Hot but not too hot. It was a fine line you were walking, and you absolutely were not going to cross it.

The bar in the popular part of the city was going to be the number one spot for rich bachelors. You never went there yourself because it was so expensive and uptight, but you were looking to get drinks anyway. You didn’t have to wait long before you had a drink in front of you, courtesy of a gentleman sitting in a booth in the back. He was too old for you but you smiled at him. The others came quickly. You had the bartender sneak most of them into the sink. You couldn’t get drunk and most of these men you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. It was starting to get late. You didn’t spot anyone worth your while.

“This seat taken?”

You whipped around to your right, surprised to see a young man - no - someone your age in here. Not to mention attractive. You shook your head, trying to cover your own shock.

“Not a lot of… not… old guys in here, am I right?” He laughed, nodding toward the tables of older gentleman. Most were fifty or so. You felt gross now realizing how many were staring at you.

You laughed back nervously, “Yeah…”

“What brings you here?” He asked innocently, “Not that you don’t belong here! You just look… I don’t know - uncomfortable?”

You cringed. Did you look uncomfortable? 

“Yeah, sorry. Just… hanging around, I suppose,” you offered. He was too cute now. You couldn’t bring yourself to take his money even if you wanted to. 

He smiled. “Same here. I thought this place was going to be fun, but there’s not a lot to do.” He looked around. “Most of these guys are talkin’ business.” Looking around yourself, you realized he was right. Most of them were meeting up with business partners whiles others were trying to make business partners. Some looked pretty shady. You were getting more nervous by the minute.

“I-I have to go,” you mumbled quickly, getting up from your seat end creeping toward the door. He was surprised. “Uh, by-”

You bumped into something, stumbling back into the bar. 

“Oi, you should watch where you’r-”

You gasped.

The music got louder. The air felt heavy. His eyes looked dark.

The corners of his mouth tugged down and his eyes narrowed. Sweat condensed on your brow.

“What are you doing here?” He growled, his stature big and menacing. His green eyes bore into you sharply.

“I-I-I-”

“Hey-” The boy from before was back. “Are you okay?” He looked to Toji and frowned.

“This guy bothering you?” He asked, all too naive. You gently pushed him back. You could see Toji about to pounce. 

You pushed him back a little harder when he didn’t get the hint. “No, it’s fine, man,” you told him, “just go.”

He gave you another concerned look, but left when you gave him a stern one. You felt bad. He seemed nice.

Much to your disappointment, the other man you were dealing with didn’t just vanish into thin air. You sighed. “I was just about to leave, anyway.” You tried to step past him. He didn’t let you, his wide torso stepping in front of you. His smirk made your skin crawl.

“Let’s talk.”

You weren’t given the option to deny him as he stole you away, a large fist grabbing you arm far too harshly. He pulled you through the exit, dragging you down the crowded street. Any struggle you made was met with a firm tug, his grip getting tighter and tighter. You were definitely going to bruise.

When you’d rounded lone alleyway between the buildings, he’d pressed you against the wall, the grainy texture of the brick scratching your skin.

“What the fuck was that about, huh?” He hissed, his teeth sharp and burning white.

“You fucking around? You screw any of those fuckers?” He’d never been so angry with you before. He’d never been angry with you, period. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“N-no!” you argued, “Toji, no. What the hell - what are you doing here?” When he gave no answer, his eyes still glaring, you continued.

“You said you were busy today…”

No answer.

“I can spend my free time wherever I want.”

No. Answer. Your eyes glazed over, and you turned away from him.

“I… needed money…”

With that he seemed to let up.

“Money?” He scoffed. “This how you get money now? What the fuck happened to your job?”

“Nothing… I just needed more.” You bit your lip. “Your’s isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean mine isn’t enough?” He barked. He wrapped his hand under you jaw, his palm grasping your pulse.

“I told you I’d give you more if you let me screw you raw. Didn’t I?”

You swallowed thickly, tears clinging to your eyelashes.

You looked back at him with fear in your eyes, his hand slowly closing around your neck. His expression softened ever so slightly as he realized he was scaring you.

He released you with a huff and walked a few steps away, running a hand down his face.

“What’s the issue? STDs? Birth control? I’m clean, and I’ll get you pills-”

“No!”

He looked at you surprised. You calmed yourself down and rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the air.

“Toji…,” you began, “we’re… not together. You have your fun, I get paid - that’s all we do.” You looked up at him softly. “I need more than what you’re giving me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You saying you don’t have fun.”

You bit your lip and looked away. He scowled. Wrong answer.

He took wide strides forward, cornering you against the wall yet again, this time with his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to face him.

“You saying you don’t love it when I fuck you? That your cunt doesn’t fuckin’ love my cock?

You frowned back at him.

“You tell me.”

His mouth thinned.

It was no secret that you didn’t come when you two fucked. It’s not like he was trying either. You always prepped yourself beforehand, lubing yourself up and stretching yourself out so he didn’t hurt you. And during your escapades, he always just pulled his dick out and got to it. He never touched you more than necessary, never tried to feel you up or grope around. His only goal was to get himself off. And you were fine with that. So long as he paid you.

His eyes looked at you softly, he almost looked guilty, but you knew him better than that. You sighed and pushed away from him.

“It’s late… I gotta go hom-”

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight.

You looked down at it, his hand engulfing your arm, his fingers and knuckles all too big for you. His nails dug into your skin and he pulled you back. You couldn't walk away if you wanted to. You were trapped. You wanted to push him away, you wanted to be mad, but you couldn't find it in yourself.

He leaned in, his eyes soft yet cold.

You flinched, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He was rough, his mouth moving against your flesh in a sloppy kiss. His tongue flicked across your neck, and his teeth tugged at your skin. He was hungry. Always hungry. You pushed your free hand against him. He ignored it.

His free hand snaked up to the underside of your breast, the other dropping to your hip, his palm resting on the bone. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin where your chest spilled out. You felt conflicted.

He bit you harshly, drawing blood. Your eyes widened and you hissed.

“So that’s what this was all about, huh?” He rasped, his bottom lip resting on your skin, his breath hot.

“Little girl not cumming like she wants to?”

You pushed his face away and groaned.

“As if you’ve ever gotten me off? I’m leaving.”

You went to move, but he kept his grip tight. He grabbed the other wrist as well. He squeezed hard, forcing you to gasp. He smirked.

“You’re this stubborn you’ve forgotten how to ask for things? You had me worried there. Thought you were tryna end things for real.”

Your face flushed in anger and embarrassment. You yanked your arms away but he didn't let go. You tugged once, twice, three times - he didn't let go. You yelped as he tugged back, forcing you to stumble and fall against him. He pressed his hips against yours, his groin digging into your stomach. You grunted at the pressure, your toes curling at the contact. He was hard already, his cock throbbing against your navel.

He pinned your arms over your head, his weight forcing you up against the wall, his mouth looming over yours. You turned your head to the side. He couldn’t kiss you, that was against the rules. His hot breath fell down your cheek and neck.

He leaned in again and you turned away.

He was hungry. Always hungry.

He leaned in again. And again.

You whimpered softly and groaned. Your heart throbbed.

You swallowed thickly as he leaned in again, your chest heaving, his lips brushing against your jaw. You shook your head weakly. He huffed, a deep, almost animalistic rumble leaving his chest.

You whined and shut your eyes.

His tongue smoothed over your jawline, his hand finally letting go of you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't push him away. He was too strong, anyway.

He grunted and ran his fingers through your hair, grasping a handful and pulling your head back. You whined, the sound only encouraging him to continue, your hair tightening in his fist. He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pelvis, the fabric of your skirt doing nothing to stop the feeling.

“C’mon sweetheart, Don’tcha wanna feel good?” He cooed.

He forced you into the wall once more, his free hand moving down to your thigh, squeezing the skin just under your knee. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it over his hip, his bulge rubbing your heat. A chuckle rose deep within his throat, and he licked at your ear.

“Ugh, Toji, stop it! You’re being annoying,” you complained, despite the thrill lacing up your spine. He laughed.

“Don’t lie,” the man crooned. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be beggin’ me to fuck ya.” 

Your cowered away. “Wha-” Umph.

You couldn’t finish as you we dropped onto a hard surface, a mixture of both brick and stale dirt. Looking up, dead branches and deader leaves filled your vision. The alley way had led to a smaller subsection of the street, a lone crevice in the city district that was long abandoned and withering away. Your dress was smushed into the dirt of the old dirt bowl that was in the center of the small courtyard, the tree taking root twisted and weak. It almost seemed pitifully metaphorical to your current situation.

A scheming hand slithered up your thigh, scrunching back your crinkled skirt and hiking it around your hips, your lacey g-string fully exposed.

“Fuck,” Toji moaned, licking his lips, “You were definitely looking to get fucked tonight.”

“No I wasn’t!” You countered nervously, trying to press your thighs together to hide yourself. Despite being in an abandoned area, you were still in a public space and didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Much less be here for the long duration it took him to be satisfied. But this time felt a bit different. He was taking his time, touching you more, teasing. He usually got straight to business and had his fly down by now, but instead it was you who was being undressed, his big, warm hands encompassing your thighs and groping them. He was trying to break another rule, you could feel it. He had a devious look in his eye. He smiled at you.

“How much to touch your pussy?”

You were taken aback by the question, squeezing your thighs even tighter.

“Wha- that’s off limits!”

“No, no,” he insisted, “everything’s got a price, baby. What’s yours?”

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You’d never seen him so adamant to give you pleasure, much less offer money for it. From your experience, men were hesitant to do anything besides receive, convincing themselves that woman adored pleasing them. And the rare moment when they did touch a girl, it was always careless and short-lived, the only real goal to get them wet enough to be a slippery hole. You weren’t in the mood to be disappointed.

“Thirty thousand yen? Forty?”

“Not interested.”

“More?”

“No.”

He leered.

“Three. Hundred. Thousand.”

Your eyes bulged. Mouth gaping.

“Th-thats…”

“Going once,” he announced. “Going twice!” Don’t let him get to three.

You could get a new computer with that, replace your old busted one that had lost half the keys and took fifty years to load.

“Going-”

“I’ll do it!” You gasped, defeated. “I’ll do it…”

His paws squeezed your thighs, drifting up the insides and gently prying them apart. You hardly fought him when you realized that was the only way you were going to get the money. New computer. New computer. You tried to focus on the positives.

Toji pressed his cheek into your inner thigh, kissing your skin softly. You shivered at the feeling of his soft lips brushing your flesh. He moved up your leg, placing his hands on each side of your panties and tugging them down, your skin glistening with sweat as he pulled the cloth against the curves of your flesh. He pulled your legs apart further and licked a long stripe up your skin. the wetness cold on your overheated flesh. You clenched your teeth. You were on the verge of telling him the deal was off, but his tongue brushed against your core and you could no longer find the words. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake.

Your core throbbed.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the pot, your body lying at an awkward angle, the base of your spine aching.

Toji pressed a thumb against your slit, dragging it across your folds and collecting your slick on the pad. You shuddered.

He ran the pad of his thumb across your clit, rubbing slow circles into the bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair with one hand, tugging it hard, his muffled groan tickling your core. His finger slipped between your folds, easily entering your wet hole, his finger much bigger than your own. You grunted at the intrusion, the thick digit stretching your inner walls, his knuckle pressing against your clit as he bottomed out inside of you. He wiggled his finger, stretching your walls before pumping his finger in and out of your cunt, dragging out every little noise he could from your mouth.

He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat, your legs dangling in the air as he sat between your thighs, your hands digging into the dirt beneath you for support.

His finger moved slowly within you, his eyes never leaving yours, a fire burning within his emerald eyes. You grunted when he added another finger, the feeling almost too much for you. Your noises echoed briefly throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the concrete and surrounding buildings, and you were all too aware of how loud you were being. You pulled harder on his hair as the knot in your stomach grew tighter.

But you tried to keep your composure, your body still tense with the fear of your surroundings. Any moment someone could come waltzing by, see what you two were doing, your disheveled appearance, perhaps even try to take advantage. Your alarm hindered your concentration on the pleasure.

“What’s up?” You heard, turning your eyes back down to look at him. You hadn’t realized your gaze had wandered to the opening in the walls to where the city life buzzed about. He glanced over to where you were looking.

“Ain’t nobody comin’ over here. Relax,” he mumbled, his eyes getting warm again. “I’ll protect ya. Just relax.”

Your heart throbbed at the promise, warmth enveloping your body. You hesitantly let your head fall back and sighed, dropping your shoulders. His free hand moved to the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your belly. He wanted a good view. You didn't care. You felt… safe.

His fingers picked up speed, fucking you harder as you bit your lip. His thumb moved back to your clit, rubbing circles on the swollen button. You hummed and sighed, his fingers twisting inside you. The pleasure began to build up again, boiling in your belly and tingling up your spine. And just when you got comfortable he only took it further.

Heat enveloped your clit, wet and slippery and hot like a warm bath. You gasped out, squirming around a bit and digging your nails into the roots in the ground. Looking back down, you confirmed your theory. Toji’s head was between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and wrapped around your little bead, his fingers still working inside of you. Soft pants and whines left your mouth, your legs shaking around his head as he continued to suck at you, his tongue swirling around and prodding under the hood, leaving you slick and sensitive. Your core throbbed.

You felt a sharp pressure inside you, and then a slow stretch. You yelped. A third finger was entering you, your cunt molding around the thick digit. You writhed  again, trying to ease the ache of the intrusion. His other hand rested on your belly, gently smoothing over your skin as he ate you. His head moved side to side, tongue laving over you, his hands never stopping their movements. Oh god. It felt like you going to- to-

“Ah!,” you moaned, shaking viciously and clutching at his head, holding him in place. You were melting, you were sure of it. Everything was slipping away from you, your bones, your brain, your worries. His tongue kept lashing at you, extending your pleasure and refusing to slow down. His fingers remained pressed against your sweet spot, his other hand pushing on your belly. It was all too much, you were squealing with overstimulation. It got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. Until something popped.

All the tension broke from your body, the shocking sensations melting into something warm and fuzzy. You slowly let go of everything, all tension easing away from you and allowing for complete bliss to take over. Sweet sighs and mewls left your lips, your back lying against the dirt as you caught your breath and waited for your head and pussy to stop tingling. Another whine was pulled from you when he took his fingers and mouth away from you, unraveling your legs from his head and stepping back.

“You fallin’ asleep now?” He laughed.

You pouted and groaned. “No… jus’… gimme a sec.” Your bones were like jelly, your eyelids heavy. He cackled at you and that was the push you needed to get off your ass. He looked smitten.

“Good, right?” He crooned, wiping his mouth, “Ya fuckin’ squirted on me.”

Your face got dark and you looked to your lap, embarrassed.  

“Nothin’ to be ashamed about princess.” He assured, fishing out his wallet and shufflling through the bills. He took out a stack and threw it in your lap.

“It was hot.”

You groaned again and dug your face into your hands, trying to ignore his raspy laughing.

You jolted when you felt his breath on you, looking up and freezing. His eyes burned into you.

“Now next time, let’s work out this condom situation, alright?”

You gulped.

~

Part 2 coming eventually...

[joocomics]

1k followers celebration event — ⌞⌗ xdh drabble⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 badboy!jooyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) wc: 1k

request: "you don't want me here? then why does your body say otherwise?" + "maybe i should put my dick in your mouth so you'll shut up" + face slapping

contains: bad boy x good girl trope, sub!reader, bookseller!reader, mean!dom!jooyeon, corruption kink, exhibitionism kink, (unprotected) semi public sex, edging, begging, pussy slapping, face slapping (f!rec), pet names, degradation kink, name calling (slut), dumbification

[ event masterlist | xdinary heroes masterlist ]

Lee Jooyeon is not a reader.

Truthfully, you doubt he's ever held a book open for longer than two minutes in his life. He’s the type of person who prefers entirely different sensations - to be outside, lost in thick crowds, banging rock music, alcohol and smoke, places where things happen all at once and they happen loud.

Exactly the opposite of you.

Yet, he keeps coming back... and your body lets him.

“You work too much.” He mutters, leaning against the counter; the lack of enthusiasm in his euphonic voice is evident.

“You laze around too much,” you say back, not interrupting the process of stocking the shelve with YA contemporary novels. You place the last remaining book when a clicking sound forces you to look behind your shoulder, your eyes bulging once you notice the lighter in his hand - and the flame flickering. “Seriously?! Put that away!”

Jooyeon sighs dramatically, but shoves the lighter back into his pocket.

He doesn't fit here at all; with his smug smile and black leather jacket soaked in cigarette smoke.

It’s very clear what he’s here for, and you’re trying hard to resist it - unless you want to grow an addiction to him.

“Look, customers will start coming in soon, and I won’t have time to talk anyway,” you murmur, walking back to the counter. “Maybe you should come by another day.”

Jooyeon turns around once you’re at your spot; his expression sharpens even more as though he's struggling to grasp what you're saying. With a swift motion, his dominant hand grabs the badge with your name, pulling you closer.

“Is that what you think I'm here for?” The erotic lower tone sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “To chat?”

You can only swallow as the sudden lack of distance causes your brain to slow down. Then, his ravishingly carved face too, and his alluring eyes, warning you of the trouble you’re going into…

He drops the badge, leaving it to dangle loosely around your neck again. A dry sound of mockery escapes him as he watches you stand frozen in the same place.

That’s exactly what he expected.

“What… you don’t want me here?” His brows relax when he meets your eyes, shiny with desire and intent; he notices the truth lingering inside them no matter how much you try to hide it. His fingers brush your cheek, trailing down to trace your slightly parted lips with his thumb. “Then why does your body say otherwise?”

He leans in, close enough for your breaths to blend into one.

“Tell me you want me to leave and I will.”

No words come; not straight away.

“I don't want you to leave.”

Jooyeon smirks satisfied, then tilts your head towards him some more.

“Why don’t you give me a tour of the stockroom again then?” He pauses before his voice softens with a hint of secrecy. “That spot where the camera can’t see you being naughty.”

“Please, please, please!”

“My name?” Jooyeon grabs your face roughly to tilt your chin up.

“Jooyeon,” you utter, gazing into his eyes; they earn a glint of lust once your weakened voice call out his name. “Jooyeon, please, I can’t wait any longer…”

He smirks amused, looking down at your naked lower body - where his cock smacks your pussy again and again, teasing it and forcing it to clench helplessly around air.

“Fuck me, please!”

The truth is, he’s not entirely sure why he’s doing this or how he succeeded at not burying himself deep into you the second he got you down here. But there’s something about hearing you beg for his cock… after you tried to push him away earlier and failed…

The noise of skin against skin echoes dangerously throughout the stockroom as his soaked tip lands on your clit repeatedly.

“One more.”

The corners of his lips twitch pleasantly as you glance down at his palm levelled at your mouth. You salivate, then spit out, watching him wet his cock even more.

The lewd sounds, the view of his erection, big and hard, pointing at your leaking entrance, but not close enough to enter… It’s driving you crazy as you wait spread open on the table.

Jooyeon leans down, crashing his lips into yours.

As every other time, the thrill has you feeling like you’re about to meltdown until your body jolts from a sudden sensation - he shoved an inch through your needy walls, groaning at the way they immediately grip onto him.

“Why did you tell me to leave if you want my cock so bad, darling?” His hot breath brushes your trembling lips as he keeps his forehead pressed against yours.

“I— I don’t know,” you mumble, desperately needing him to push further, but not having the courage to say it.

But it doesn’t matter, because he pulls out.

“One minute you’re all diligent and smart, and the next you go dumb.” Jooyeon snickers at your defeated expression as you bite your lip to keep quiet. “Not very convenient for a bookseller.”

Here even the smallest noise sounds ten times louder, including his tittering, and the way your cunt welcomes him back when he slips it in - all of it this time.

“Maybe I should put my dick in your mouth so you'll shut up,” he grunts, overpowering your moans. “How about that, baby doll?”

“… p-please—“ Your eyes roll back at the next deep, sharp hit.

“What?” Jooyeon laughs at your muddled speech. “Are you begging me to fuck your mouth or to stay inside your small cunt? Speak, slut.”

“Stay,” your pleading eyes flicker up at him before his slap tilts your head to the side. “Stay inside me, please!”

“There you go, the naughty slut can speak!” He coos with artificial sweetness; with the most enticing mocking smile you've ever seen.

His hand, large and heavy, taps the warm area of your cheek, but you're unsure if it's to command you to look at him or to praise you for responding properly.

“I know you're a smart bookworm, sweetheart.” He smirks, trailing your jawline with his lips. “You just go a little dumb from my cock, but that’s okay… I like it.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[atleastpleasetelephone]

NIPPLE SENSITIVE ELVIS.

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

A/N: This is Elvis on the set of Paradise, Hawaiian Style.

Sensitive

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.1K

TWs: Smut, nipple-play, Elvis is a little shy about his body.

You’re busy sewing up another pair of busted pants when you hear a knock at your door. 

“Come in!” You call out, cheerfully. 

Still looking down at your sewing, you don’t realise who it is until you hear the response. 

“Hey, uh, ma’am. I’ve come for another shirt. This one got wrecked in the last scene.”

Your foot presses down on the pedal and you nearly sew your own fingers into the pants. 

“Oh!” You exclaim, finally remembering that less pressure means the machine will slow down and taking your foot off entirely will make it stop. 

He gives you a bashful smile as you look up into his face. It really is Elvis Presley. You knew, but you had to look to check you hadn’t lost your mind entirely and just made him up. Of course you know he’s the main attraction on this movie set, but you’d assumed he’d have someone else to pick up an extra shirt for him. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean ta startle ya, ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am, Mr Presley. It makes me feel about 102.”

He chuckles. “Alright. If you agree not to call me Mr Presley. That’s my daddy. I’m Elvis.”

His smile is infectious and you grin back. “Okay, Elvis. Now what was it you asked me for?” You wrack your brain for the words he’d said a few seconds ago, but all you can hear is his honeyed Southern accent purring at you. There’s no content whatsoever. 

“Another shirt. This one…” he gestures to the shirt, and you see that it’s covered in mud and has a couple of holes, “...is lookin’ a bit of a mess.”

You nod, standing up and moving towards the rack of clothes designated for him. Flicking through them, you eventually find another of the same shirt and pass it to him. He smiles. 

“Thank ya, honey.”

He goes to leave and you call him back. “Elvis! You um… you should change now and give me the old one so I can fix it.” That isn’t strictly true, there’s no reason he can’t just give you the shirt later, but you want an excuse to make the interaction go on longer. He’s so handsome. 

He turns back and you swear there’s the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Oh, uh… sure.” 

It seems like he’s debating telling you to turn around before he removes his shirt, so you look back down at your sewing. 

“I’ve made a real mess of this,” you tell him, as you sit back down and pull the fabric out of the machine, cutting the threads off and starting to look for a seam ripper. “You came in here and I just about forgot how to operate the machine!”

“I’m sorry honey,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I shoulda warned ya before I came in.”

You smile and carry on looking down at your sewing, ripping the errant stitches out quickly. “Maybe.”

“But then I’d have liked a warnin’ that you’d be so pretty, too.”

You’re not expecting the words and you look up without thinking. He’s half-undressed, the old shirt off as he undoes the buttons on the new one. Your throat goes dry looking at him. He’s a little heavier than the photos you’d seen recently, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you’d like to bite that belly fat. 

“You’re a real charmer,” you whisper, your voice betraying you. 

He shrugs the shirt on, then starts to fiddle with doing up the buttons. “N-no, not a charmer,” he replies, the tiny stammer giving him away too. “I mean it, honey.”

You stand up, closing the distance between the two of you quickly to help him with the buttons. He’s not concentrating and they’re done up all wrong. 

“Here, let me.”

Your hands touch his and you almost feel like you’re on fire. His face is so close to yours you could kiss those big, bruised lips. As you rearrange the fabric you hear him make a little moan and your eyes snap up to his, questioningly. 

“Uhm…” he starts, awkwardly. You move the fabric again and the same thing happens, and then you look down and you’re sure you can see the outline of something in his pants. 

“What is it…?” You’re still trying to figure it out by repeating the movement when he almost squeals. 

“N-nipples.”

“Huh?”

He catches your hand in his to stop it from dragging the shirt over his nipple again. “M-my nipples… uh… they’re kinda s-s-sensitive.”

Your eyes widen with understanding and you start to unbutton his shirt with your other hand. Confused, he tries to stop you, but your fingers are too nimble and the next thing he knows your thumb is brushing one of his bare nipples gently but firmly. 

“Ohhhhh. Oh honey y-y-ya c-can’t…” he starts, but soon gives up on the rest of the sentence when you pinch him instead. “Fuck!”

“How sensitive?” You ask, manoeuvring him towards a chair and sitting him down. 

He blushes. “V-very. Honey, I haveta…”

Unable to quite believe the situation you’ve got yourself into, you just keep going, sitting on his lap and manipulating both nipples at once with your thumbs. His head tips back and he moans, and when you look down you can definitely see his hardness in his pants. 

“Can you…?” You don’t know how to ask politely, but he knows exactly what you mean, replying “yeah” huskily. 

The idea of him cumming through you touching his nipples makes you instantly wet, and you dip your head down to lick and suck on first one and then the other, enjoying the noises he makes as you do it. They’re very pink and erect when you’re finished, so you start to rub them more firmly, gripping and twisting when you hear his breathing get more erratic, his hips bucking up against you, desperate for contact. 

“Oh God,” you mumble, as his clothed dick rubs against the outside of your panties. 

He moans in return, and you can feel his hot breath against your cheek. “Honey I…” he begins, and then he’s cut off with another loud moan as you dip your head down again, this time to nibble on a nipple. 

He rubs himself against you one more time and then you hear a little yelp and a sigh, and when you look down there’s a wet patch spreading at his crotch. Grinning, you run your thumbs lightly over his nipples again and are rewarded with another, softer cry. His eyes meet yours and you notice him looking a little bashful, his face beautifully flushed. 

“Think we might need to get you some new pants too,” you tease. 

His awkward little smile turns into a grin and his hands move to grip your hips. 

“Not before I’ve returned the favour, honey.”

☆☆☆

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