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satoruhour · 1 year ago

Note

Accidentally sending gojo a nude and before you can properly apologise he sends a video of his own which leads to..well🫣

BABY BLUE SWEETNESS

a/n: my clit grew hands and wrote this. combined this w/ a part 2 of being gojo’s roommate / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody my gojo fuckers

wc: 3.7k (I HAVE GOT TO STOP WRITING SM ....)

warnings: mutual pining, roommate!gojo, dom!gojo, he gets rough but only bc he loves ur pussy sssoooo much, sending nudes by accident to gojo, semi-public m! masturbation, filming (on gojo’s end), pet names, praise, slight f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, nipple play, bit of dialogue during sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (twice!), multiple rounds, implied m! oral, n*sfw under the cut

the next week goes by uneventfully.

but you think there’s hardly anything worth happening when you hadn’t even said anything about that: standing outside satoru’s room, hearing his pleasured moans along with the slickness of his hand on his cock and watching him at his most vulnerable with whispers of your name.

gojo did have a few moments of weakness — brief bouts of failing to meet your eyes, stuttering, but he was still predominantly himself after, throwing laundry on the floor and leaving the toilet paper roll unfilled. by date, he was the messiest roommate you’ve roomed with, compared to sleeping over at shoko’s and geto’s places before; sure it was obvious enough being friends with him since high school, though you hadn’t thought that the rowdy, outgoing way that he spoke would translate into his living space, too.

and despite being the one who has the upper hand that very day you decided to stop and watch, he still manages to have some sort of hold on you, catching you off-guard at the worst times.

“any luck with the mods?” gojo peeks over at your laptop over at the small dining table, your leg propped up and a scowl on your face at how you were still on the waitlist. while mr. perfect beside you has gotten every module he’s bidded for, a course on philosophy, romantic and 20th century music as well as an online mod about ethics.

“i don’t even know why you got that last one! funny how the most annoying person who has anything but morals is entering an ethics course.” maybe it was the fact that you’ve already waited one and a half weeks. perhaps it was that one piece of clothing gojo loved to leave on the floor, or simply it was just because of the man himself — you were on your wit’s end with the week.

that fades away when you’re turning your head and gojo is right there, hovering over your computer screen with a sly smirk on his face and his stupid bright, blue eyes that you could spend hours staring at.

“you wound me, baby,” gojo whispers, like it was a secret between the two of you and he pulls away, both hearts beating an unnatural speed at the proximity. gojo swears to himself he’ll never call you anything close to that or be that close because it’s absolutely not good for his heaving chest and hardening dick — those pretty plump lips of yours and the innocent look on your face — he wanted to both kiss it and fuck it.

and yet, on dormitory movie nights where you’re sat on both ends of the couch with geto and shoko between the two of you, satoru wills himself to patiently wait until the end of the first movie to stretch his limbs and get more snacks; he knows you’ll follow, too, because it’s been like that for as long as he can remember.

“you know you have to stop eating all that candy, right?” you’re saying it mindlessly, pouring more chips into a bowl and getting the hummus and guac, “it’s not healthy.”

gojo’s leaning on the counter and doesn’t help whatsoever, both elbows on the wood and head tipped back to meet your height.

“aw, is my cute roomie worried about me?” you almost want to ignore him with that little compliment, not sure if he even meant it, but you’re leaning into him this time with a little glance down to his lips that he thinks he imagined it.

“no, just wondering how embarrassed i’ll be when i have to tell the paramedics that when you finally collapse on the floor, it was because my dumb roommate had consumed too much sugar.” you like this little game you play with satoru, yet you’ve never been this bold; maybe it’s because you know he finds you hot, too, but the two of you are too stubborn to stand your ground and admit the obvious.

gojo’s feigned pout spreads into a grin and simply blows a raspberry at your explanation. there’s a crinkle of yet another sweet packet, disregarding your chastise from earlier. “smart little thing, hm?”

“i become the brightest when you’re involved,” you swipe the sweet from his fingers and pop it into your mouth, “i have to when i need to insult you.” the two of you spend the rest of the movie night hip to hip on the couch, ignoring the fire in your connected limbs and the spark of your fingers when they brush against each other.

it’s a few months before you’re fully embracing that you might not just find your roommate hot, but that maybe you’d want to “wife” him up as the other has expressed jokingly. it didn’t help that gojo is cleaning up a little more often these days, learning how to cook and using his inside voice like you told him to (you didn’t think he’d remember). the last straw was possibly seeing him fuss over you when you fell sick, switching to remote classes just so he could be close to you — his main excuse was that he didn’t want his laundry to be infected.

“but you don’t even like to use shirts half the time you’re home!”

“you’re calling this home—” gojo giggles while simultaneously shoving cough mixture down your throat, “i didn’t know we were married!”

“shut your trap before i really make you regret this.”

but gojo thinks that maybe it wasn’t so bad to come home to you in one of his future days, he just had to get through this first.

it was meant to be a simple photo to show off your new set of lingerie, the ones that you had gotten with your girls at a half-off price just the other day. you couldn’t blame yourself when your hands naturally reached for one that mirrored gojo’s eyes alongside the white details that represent his hair. buy it, take a potential nude and laugh about it in the group chat, that’s all. you felt so damn sexy in it that you even went as far as to take a few photos with your bra unclasped and phone in hand hiding your chest, until the very last one where it was fully off.

you felt unlike yourself, in that stuffy, small dorm while satoru was out in a lecture—

before gojo texts you about groceries and his chat moves to the very top that same moment you’ve got all these lewd, unnatural pictures of you waiting to be sent. it happened all too fast: at least 10 being delivered and read on the spot that your panic is indescribable and you want to melt into mush on the floor.

while you’re scrambling to delete them, gojo stares at your figure in that last racy picture, hands skilfully covering your breasts just enough that he could still see the curve of them and then down to your figure interrupted by a pretty pair of blue lace undies. it’s like you planned this, looking so delectable in your little get-up until it all disappears and you’re sending multiple messages of “i’m so sorry”’s and “it was an accident”’s.

gojo thanked the heavens he was sat at the very back of the lecture theatre, immediately booking it out of there with the images of you seared into his brain. his cock is throbbing and so, so hard it almost hurts to walk to the restroom, and you’re still continuing your apologies. he wants to scream at you — how you do not need to say sorry for whatever you’ve just sent, because as he removes his dick from his tight pants, there’s a soft sigh of your name that falls from his lips.

satoru is reminded of the times you’d be sat in your stupid booty shorts in the dorm, basically showing your folds because he just knew you didn’t like to use underwear underneath. he’s reminded of the times you had to (unwillingly) use one of his shirts when the washing machine had broken down and the only thing on his mind at the time was what you’d look like bouncing on him — he thinks that maybe he just needs to spit it the fuck out, and so he opens the video feature on your private chat.

“this is what you do t’me, baby,” gojo’s tip is already leaking so much pre-cum, making sure he can be seen, expression and all, “you make me so— s-shit— fucking hard.”

he didn’t even care if he could be heard, pumping his cock to the thought of you in that baby blue set of lingerie. he thinks of ripping it all off of you and buying you more just so he could do the same thing again and again, eyes scrunching up in bliss as his hand continues to move up and down his length. his hand isn’t even close to what he wants to feel — your tight pussy sucking him in — but he settles for it, squeezing his palm around his shaft and thumbs his tip.

“ya see this, angel?” gojo chokes out a moan when he sees another notification of ‘i really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable’ and it was the exact opposite for him in this bathroom stall, really hoping this video would drive his point home, “s’all for you, f— fuck.”

the video is incoherent from then on, because it’s all too much for him, the strokes of his warm hand, the images of your body, the sensitivity of his cock. lewd noises of him jerking off and his whines echo throughout the restroom, cumming with a slack mouth and babbles of your name on his lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk…” satoru can hardly care as his cum stains his shirt, leaving his cock in needy spurts that dribble down his hand as well, wishing he could see it against your skin instead of his own. the end of the video is messy and hasty that he doesn’t even think much as he sends it, but it’s not even halfway through the video before you’re sending a simple “please come back, now.” and his heart jumps in his chest.

gojo simply shoots a quick text to geto, asking him to help him pack his things because he will definitely not be returning.

you’re so glad you don’t have any more classes for the day, too, because all you can think about now is satoru and his cock, blessed again with the sight of him losing himself in pleasure except now, he knew. your hands aren’t hesitant in reaching down to your core, lingerie already soaked through as you watch the short two minute video over and over as you lazily play with your clit with your eyes trained on his hand. it’s so hypnotising you don’t realise gojo’s already home, standing at your room door with his bulge showing through his pants and sweat lining his brow.

“did you run here?” you sit up, hands covering your chest instinctively. he shakes his head and you remove them.

“you know the bus will take too long, baby.”

you ignore the flutter of your heart and pussy when you know he says the pet name with intent, now, not in a joking or teasing manner. you want to hear it more.

“was that really an accident?”

you’re kneeling on your bed now, and gojo just wants to shut you up and make you take back all your apologies.

“it was!” you counter, not minding how your roommate slips his hand around your waist and is just inches from you, “but…”

gojo never truly loses his personality even when he’s hot and bothered, “but what, princess?”

that’s new.

you grin at his chivalry even when you’ve got your chest all vulnerable like this: he’s trying to break you with his eyes, the one thing that led you to choose baby blue in the first place. you win when his eyes flit down to your tits.

“but you still ended up sending me a video of you jerking off — hardly any decorum, huh, satoru?”

gojo rolls his eyes, hands trailing up your body and coming to rest at your boobs, “yeah. but you love it.”

that’s all he says before he dips down and takes a nipple into his mouth, leaving your hands to tangle in his hair as your back arches to give him more space. he’s so hungry, swirling his tongue around your hardened bud as he kneads the other, eyes occasionally meeting yours from your chest.

“d’you like the vid?” his speech is muffled.

“like it? i loved it—” a soft moan leaves you, “didn’t know you were such a sub, though.”

gojo laughs into your skin and you’re obsessed with the feeling, challenging him when he reaches your eyes again with a glint in his eyes.

“oh, you’re in for it, baby.” gojo grins, capturing your lips and feeling so free now that everything’s out in the open. he’s finally able to feel your lips on his, so soft and slow, making him go crazy from such a simple gesture. gojo pushes you gently onto your bed, kissing down your exposed body before coming to your pelvis, playing with the hem of the underwear.

“gotta thank this little guy for solving our problems.”

“please do not call my lingerie ‘little guy’,” you giggle, letting him remove the garment and you preen at the praise he gives your pussy.

“s’wet… is this all for me?” gojo shamelessly inhales your essence, the sight of him between your legs enough to make anyone cum.

“yeah…” it’s a whisper when you say it, breathless and impatient yet loving the way he treats you. “i get wet only for you, ‘toru.”

gojo moans at that, eyes rolling back momentarily before his mouth descends on your pussy and you think you can hear a brief hymn of hallelujah. he savours your cunt slowly, licking lazy stripes up and down your pussy and your moans match them — soft, drawn out — hands playing seamlessly with his hair. gojo’s startling baby blues meet you for a second and he smiles softly before he places a kiss to your clit.

a twitch, and satoru fully shows his expertise in the next second, eating you out like he was a starved man and you were the last meal on earth. your roommate sucks on your clit, groaning into your core as he feels your thighs close in around his head and your heels dig into his back. he switches easily to your hole, driving his tongue into the leaking entrance and his nose starts to nudge at your nub.

“satoru— s-shit!” your moans increase in volume, hands pulling harshly at his locks. “feel s’good—”

“yeah?” he speaks into your cunt, slurping up your juices time and time again until his jaw aches. your pussy just tastes so sweet that it’s got him grinding into the bed, too, relieving his cock with desperation. “was made just to eat you out, sweetness.”

“doing so well— are you close?” it was difficult to hold on when satoru was talking to you like that and devouring you so good, thumb now playing with your folds while his tongue focuses primarily on your clit again. he flicks at it and his eyes look at you for your answer, merely nodding pathetically as his abuse on your cunt is relentless. gojo would love to memorise the way you clench around his thumb, but he’s too fixated on your whines before you cum with a cry of his name.

“o—oh fuck— ‘t-toru! oh my goddd…” his mouth never stops moving even when your thighs tremble around his head and your body convulses, clit throbbing in his mouth and your mewls reaching the highest heavens.

gojo grins into your cunt, making sure you watch him as he collects all your juices onto his tongue, giving your pussy one last satisfied lick before he sits up, making quick work of his pants and he shows you how to not have one ounce of decorum like you commented on earlier—

because as he pumps the cock you saw just minutes ago, you tongue darts out to lick your lips unknowingly. as he drags the tip along your folds, you’re spreading your legs wider for him. as he slaps his cock along your cunt, your hips are moving on their own accord to feel more of him.

“filthy girl,” gojo leans in to your face, “talkin’ bout me having decorum. you should see yourself.”

you laugh, bringing him in for a brief kiss. you liked that you still could banter in times like this.

“i’ll admit i never had it, so it would b-be—” gojo slips just the tip in and you’re cut off, a choked whimper leaving you, “hypocritical to criticise you.”

“ya think?” gojo wiggles his hips gently, sinking into you and the squeeze of your cunt around his cock is too perfect, too tight. his own whines leave him as he eases inch by inch into you before you’re confessing.

“y’know after seeing you jerk off that day— f-fuck, in your room,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his middle that causes him to moan, “i wanted nothing more than to help you clean up, cum and all.”

gojo chuckles breathlessly, you two have been pining for months? but he recovers just as quickly, bottoming out with a loud sigh. he lets your hands travel over his face, holding it in your palms.

“y-yeah? why didn’t you?”

“wasn’t sure if you liked me—” a whine cuts through your words as he takes the first slam into you.

“i’ll make sure you know how much i like you, baby, ‘kay?” gojo manages to get out before his hips moves into you, no longer able to hold conversation with the way your cunt sucks him in. he’s determined now, to show you how someone like you had a hold on him so strong that he was willing to pick up dirty clothes and take time out of his day to collect groceries. it’s not long before your roommate is able to pick up a pace, loving the way you trap him with your legs as his hips piston in and out of you.

the room is so much more stuffy, now, filled with the scent of sweat and sex as his pelvis meets your ass in timed thrusts. it was so filthy, too, cum from your previous orgasm aiding him as lube and sticking to his pubes from how much you were dripping.

“y-yeah— fuck me like how you’ve been wanting to, ‘toru—” you mumble out softly, already drunk on his cock. you swear you can feel the veins and his cockhead twitch at that, the sounds of the other filling your ears.

“you take me so, so well, baby,” gojo praises, face buried in your neck as he gives you kisses there, mind blank except for how you’re so wet that your arousal is spurting everywhere each time he comes up to the hilt in you, “taking my cock and squeezing me s’good.”

little pants leave you at the affirmations, and like always, gojo is a fast learner, already knowing your sweet spots when a hand sneaks down to rub at your clit. the circles go in time with his thrusts, and before then, you’re jerking in his arms, nails scratching at his back as your pussy spasms on his cock. gojo groans into your skin, hips still ramming into you before the clench of your cunt prompts him to cum as well.

“right there— s-shit!” you’re moaning when you can feel his cum seeping into you, the exact thing you’re imagining feeling even better as he loads you up, but you don’t have time to react when gojo flips you over. a quick glance to his face tells you he’s intoxicated on your pussy, pressing down on your arch.

“can you handle— another load— baby?” it comes out in between his thrusts, the way he begs to cum in you again and you’re never one to deny when you’ve wanted this for the longest time. you let satoru use you, face buried in the sheets below you while his thrusts start to turn sloppy. he’s not giving one fuck that he’s cummed the fastest he’s ever done before and how he’s going to do it again, but it’s inevitable when he’s got your cunt wrapped around him.

“y— yes, satoru— want you to fill me up, p-please—” it all overloads him: the way his cock disappears into your hole, the residual cum from earlier sticking to your ass and his pelvis, that white ring of semen around the base of his dick, your desperate pleas and cries.

it only takes one stroke of his hand on your clit before you’re cumming so fast again together with him, fingers grasping at the sheets as your pussy flutters around his length and you get his second load in return. it’s so viscous and hot, spilling into your hole. it’s so much, body going limp against satoru’s messy thrusts as he continues to rut into you, stilling finally when he starts to cramp in his thighs.

“attagirl, that’s it, sweetness,” gojo gasps out from behind you, staying locked in you as his cock spurts out the last bits of his cum. he presses a small kiss to your shoulder, asking softly into your skin if you were okay.

“more than okay—” a small mewl is heard when gojo pulls out slowly, sighing to himself upon seeing the way your cunt push out his cum naturally. there’s so much of it, spilling onto the sheets, but before he can take it upon himself to plug two fingers into your entrance, you’re dragging him to lie properly on the bed—

“not done?” your roommate laughs, a hand playing with your neck and the hickeys he’s left there.

you shake your head, noting how satoru’s cock is still sensitive when your hand closes around it, and you finally can see gojo in all of his glory when your tongue kitten licks at his tip and a shiver travels through his body. his hooded eyes and the buck of his hips are all you need to continue.

“i haven’t told you how much i like you, ‘toru. should i show you now?”

somewhere on your dresser, there’s several messages from your girls, but you’re too preoccupied with satoru’s cock in your mouth to notice — ah, well, you’d update them later.

[6:23pm, operation get (y/n) a partner]: photo attached (4)

@(y/n) girl where is your pic !!!! show us that cute baby blue lingerie pleaseee!!

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recareels · 28 days ago

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warnings: 18+ for mature themes, mentioned intoxication, implied student-professor relationship, sunday is a little too jealous for a big brother, sunday is taller than reader words: 939

honestly just can’t stop thinking about sunday catching you, his precious baby sister, getting ready for a university halloween party, knowing full well your favourite professor mr. reca is probably going to be there, despite the fact that you will neither confirm nor deny this notion (*ﾉωﾉ)

Sunday knows, the instant he sees you busy primping yourself in the gilded hallway mirror—dainty fingers fussing with your feathers, a cute little pout of concentration molded to your lips—that you’re up to no good; that you’ll be up to no good tonight.

Call it a Big Brother’s intuition.

“Really? An angel?” Sunday leans a shoulder up against the cased opening, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “Don’t you think that’s a little…” Obvious. “Cliche?”

Your eye catches his through the mirror, ministrations halted, a small frown deepening your pout, corners of your lips twitching downward.

“No, I don’t.” Your gaze darts back to the reflection of your hands, careful as you fluff up your faux wings, twisting a little this way, then that, admiring yourself. “Besides, it’s fitting, no?”

Sunday chooses not to answer that.

“And where is this Halloween party being held again?”

“At some club in the Moment of Stars.”

“Which club?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sunny,” your eyes capture his again, holding his stare through the glass. “The university is throwing it; I’m sure you can find out the exact location on their website, or their socials, or something.”

Lips pressing into a thin, hard line, Sunday watches you finish up in silence, his sunset stare scalding on the back of your head. The hinges of his jaw flex as his molars grind together, Adams apple bobbing with a reflexive swallow. It’s nipping at the tip of his tongue, the question that’s been clawing at the walls of his skull since you first brought this damn party up several weeks ago.

Is he going to be there?

“Look,” you turn towards him after you’re done, palms finding their rightful place on his shoulders. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s just going to be a fun little Halloween party with some friends from school.” You raise up onto your tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of his jaw. “Faculty will be present; it will be safe.”

His entire form stiffens at the word faculty—a visceral reaction—and you sigh softly, tender hands smoothing down his shoulders, then drifting over his pecs, ironing the ridges from his jacket and the stress from his muscles—a silent reminder to stop slouching.

His spine snaps into submission, straightening up immediately and raising him to his full height—shoulders rolled back, chest puffed out just a touch, The Head of The Family resurrected once more.

“I promise I’ll be back at a decent time.”

Another kiss—this one softer, longer, closer to the corner of his mouth—and then you’re off, bouncing out the door towards a friend’s car, idling in the cobblestone horseshoe of the mansion’s driveway.

“Be good!” he calls after you, desperation straining his voice, heavy with the things he wishes to say, the things he dares not speak, lest it make them true.

“Always am!”

But Sunday knows better. Sunday knows you will be anything but Holy tonight.

And Sunday was right; right to be concerned, right to harbour suspicions.

Because hours past the time you promised you’d be back, well into the early morning when Sunday’s eyes are bloodshot and burning from glaring at a screen, lips chewed raw by incessant incisors tugging at superficial skin while meticulously refreshing your socials—and those of your friends, and that of the university—he finally receives the confirmation he was looking for, his worst nightmares come to life.

Because there you are, drunk or high or both on heavens knows what and decidedly fucked up, dancing with some man in a devil mask on a friend’s social media story.

The mask was clever—you must’ve thought ahead, a coordinated act rather than a coincidental encounter—but it isn’t enough to conceal the man behind it.

Nothing ever will be.

Because Sunday would recognize those sharp crimson eyes anywhere.

Jealousy froths in his chest as he replays the short choppy video over and over again, stupidly hoping his eyes are playing tricks on him, as if rewatching the godforsaken clip enough times will cast some sort of spell, will magically cause it to morph into something more favourable.

A special type of fury churns his stomach, an anger doused in envy, and he feels ill, thick saliva slimy as it pools beneath his tongue. Emotion bubbles up his throat, acidic and bitter, to gnaw away on the back of his tongue, burning his flesh as he tries to swallow past it.

The man—presumably Reca—has got his arms locked around your waist, chin hooked over your shoulder, staring directly into the camera as you shout something, garbled and bleary. Your bodies sway as one to some indistinct beat blaring in the background, nothing more than a distorted pulse of noise as it filters through the device’s microphone.

Then you’re turning in the arms of your professor, his large gloved palms flattened at the base of your spine, deft fingers splayed so the tips of his pinkies rest on the swell of your ass; and you’re giggling, obnoxiously knocking your forehead to his and pressing sloppy kisses to the mouth of his mask; and Sunday sees it, the final nail in the coffin of confirmation, a mere millisecond before you’re devoured by the cresting crowd of partygoers.

Your fingers, twining in a flash of ivory hair at the nape of the man’s neck—curling, tugging, knotting; closer, closer, closer.

Sunday’s changed his mind; your costume is fitting—an innocent angel, corrupted and seduced by the likes of Satan himself; a sweet seraph, fallen from grace and dirtied by the hands of evil.

Ruined, forever.

#mr reca x reader #mr reca x you #mr reca x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x you #let’s pretend i am not posting this two hours before halloween is over #this idea came to me right before dinner so of course i had to write it asap #HEHEHE #more big brother sunny!!!!!!!#inky.sunday #inky.reca #prof!reca

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oceaneyesinla · 7 months ago

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I'm Here

So, Demon Slayer is back and Sanemi is looking GOOD. Combine that with me struggling, and you get self indulgent fluff

Mentions of non-sexual nudity ahead, and the fic kind of implies reader is struggling mentally. Take care of yourselves, guys <3

Enjoy!

Banner by @/cafekitsune

“What's going on with you, baby?” Sanemi's voice cut through the static in your mind, soft and soothing. He rounded the couch, flicking on the lamp next to the armchair and bathing the room in soft warm light.

You hadn't even noticed your boyfriend come in, and when you looked around the room, you were confused to see inky black through the apartment window. You swore it had been bright outside not that long ago. When your eyes finally trailed up to his face, you hated the worry lining his handsome features. Worry that you caused.

“‘M fine, Sanemi. Just tired.” Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth either. You were tired, but it was quickly becoming apparent that you were anything but fine. A fact you knew all too well, but were powerless to do anything about.

Sanemi moved closer in slow steps, almost as if you were some skittish doe he didn't want to scare away. He knelt in front of you, one hand resting on your knee while the other came up to cradle your face. Warmth bled from his palm into the skin of your cheek and you shivered - a chill had developed while you were sitting there zoning out, and it was only now you realised you felt cold.

“Did you eat today?” You wanted to lie, to spare him the worry, but it was impossible with the way those violet eyes stared into yours. Some scared, hurting part of you expected resentment or anger - wanted it, even - but all you could see was loving concern. Guilt and shame bubbled up in your chest as you shook your head; a tiny gesture that he noticed anyway.

The hand on your cheek moved a little higher, and the pad of his thumb brushed over the bags you knew were sunken under your eyes, a permanent feature these days. You had tried so hard not to burden Sanemi with how awful you felt, but you knew the signs were becoming too obvious for such an observant man to not notice.

“Okay. You go shower; get into some warm clothes. I’ll see what we’ve got in the cupboards, okay?” His voice was still soft and his hand was still a reassuring presence on your thigh. However, just the thought of everything involved with showering overwhelmed you. You would have to pick up clean towels from the cupboard, and clean clothes from the wardrobe. Then you would have to actually get into the shower, and you knew your hair needed washing, and on a normal day, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Today, even getting off the couch right now felt like it would take all your energy. Tears welled in your eyes and began to slip down your cheeks as you sat there, paralysed, “I-I can’t.”

If Sanemi was surprised by your sudden tearfulness, he didn’t show it. He moved closer, your legs opening to let him slot between them. Wrapping you up in an all encompassing hold, one hand landed on the back of your head and the other wrapped around you, cradling you against his body as you cried into the crook of his neck.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, slotted together like puzzle pieces. You stayed with your face pressed into his neck, and slowly, you relaxed into his warmth. Everything seemed a little less overwhelming, a little less terrible when you were pressed this close to the love of your life.

He began to speak and you could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, “Hold on tight.”

You didn’t know what he was planning, but you did as he asked, clinging to him with your legs wrapped around his waist. A little squeak escaped you as you suddenly moved, and you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as clearly as you heard it next to your ear. He stood up, supporting your body with one hand under your butt and one around your waist.

He started moving around the apartment, and you reluctantly lifted your head to see where he was taking you. As you watched, head resting on his shoulder, he carried you into the bedroom, releasing his hold on your waist to dig around in your drawers. You noticed he was pulling out your favourites, and even the fluffy socks Kanae gave you for your last birthday. As he moved on, you pressed a kiss to his neck in silent thanks, receiving a squeeze to the plush of your butt in response.

In the bathroom, he lowered you gently onto the toilet seat, pulling away and you felt another couple of tears fall as you realised what he was doing. Towels on the rack, shower turned on, your clothes neatly stacked - he was preparing everything for you, making sure all you had to do was get under the spray.

He returned to stand in front of you, hairbrush in hand and pulled you to your feet. Gentle hands turned you around and released your hair from the messy ponytail you had pulled it into. The hairbrush started to run through your hair and Sanemi carefully untangled the knots that had formed from several days of not bothering to brush it out. He murmured quiet apologies every time he hit a snag and soon, the brush was passing smoothly from root to ends. Once he was satisfied, you felt him lean in to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

Turning around, you met his soft smile with one of your own; the action feeling more genuine than it had in days. He reached for the hem of your shirt, eyes flicking to meet yours, “May I?”

At your nod, he lifted the shirt up and over your head, undressing you with the same tender care he had shown ever since he found you sitting on the couch. His skin was warm against yours as he pressed a delicate kiss to your tummy before he slid your underwear down, prompting you to lift each foot in turn so he could remove the fabric and toss it into the laundry basket. Each gentle touch was lifting the clouds from your mind, and you felt more human than you had in weeks.

He was still crouched at your feet, so you bent down to kiss his forehead, lips lingering before you stepped into the shower, the warm water relaxing you immediately. Of course, it was exactly what you needed and the love you felt for Sanemi burned a little brighter.

So focused on the way the water was beating down on your skin, you jumped when hands came to rest on your waist, manoeuvring you so their owner could slip in behind you.

“Sanemi?” You weren’t sure what his plan was, but you let him move you anyway.

It was only when he pulled the shower head down, gently pushing your head back so he could run the water over your hair without getting it on your face that you realised what he was doing. He knew you usually washed your hair every couple of days, and he knew you hadn’t done it in over a week, and after tonight, you knew he had noticed why. So he was doing it for you.

You couldn’t stop the silent tears that fell, and Sanemi was kind enough not to comment on them as he continued, treating your body like the most precious porcelain as he made sure you were clean, occasionally leaving featherlight kisses on your skin. The pure love and tender intimacy in his actions were balms on the countless little wounds in your soul. You weren’t sure you deserved such open affection, but for tonight, you would allow yourself the indulgence.

Sanemi moved to wash himself once you were scrubbed and relaxed, and you watched the defined muscles of his back ripple as he lifted his arms to wash his hair. Muscles that had held you steady all night, carrying your weight like it was nothing. You knew he was aware of your staring because when he turned back to you, he was smirking. Normally, there would be teasing from both sides. Tonight, he would let you drink in the sight of him, and you would allow the little ego boost your adoring eyes gave him.

There were still a million thoughts in your head, a million negative emotions just waiting for their moment to strike. A shower wouldn’t be enough to wash them away - you would need time, and probably some intervention. However, as Sanemi towelled you off and dressed you up, making sure your hair didn’t drip onto your clothes, you felt a little flame of hope start to grow. Your Sanemi would be right by your side.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #sanemi fluff #kny x reader

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charleslee-valentine · 20 days ago

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Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

#analysis #house of wax 2005 #how 2005 #house of wax #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #trudy sinclair #idk if this one will make sense to other people. but like. idk just refusing to accommodate your disabled child in the way they need #making adjustments but it’s still just to make you feel less guilty and not to help the kid #Trudy is like one of those Facebook autism mommies #and it reflects back in every parenting decision she makes not just the little things. shit adds up

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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show off - eren jaeger x afab!reader x jean kirschstein, 18+!!

something wild and wicked came over me while considering the dynamics of the erejean threesome, and i realized we all deserve to see the incident that started it all. this is the official part 2/prequel to three's a... and it is very very fun and tasty. i feel like i haven't been posting as much, so i am super excited to get this up. i hope you guys enjoy as much as i did writing it :) it's also from eren's pov which you guys know i adore

pairing: jean kirschstein x reader, eren jaeger x reader, a lil bit of eren x jean tension but nothing physical

wc: 6.2k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: swearing, smut, threesome, implied internalized homophobia??? (literally just like, a pinch. eren has a "no homo" moment at the end lol), oral sex (male receiving), pet names (slut, brat, bitch, baby, princess), eren's a bit of a hard dom in this one, degradation, humiliation, penetrative vaginal sex, thick tension between eren and jean, eren's a menace

enjoy :)

Eren should be mad.

Eren should absolutely be mad, waking earlier than normal and padding into his kitchen, finding this scene waiting for him. You, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a stringy thong and leaning over the counter enough to make that fact exceedingly obvious, and Jean, his roommate and friend since high school, shirtless and smirking, flirting over coffee. When he announces his presence, the shame and surprise on both of your faces is evident enough to confirm his suspicions; there’s definitely something building between the two of you, and whether it be a harmless crush or more, it’s there. Eren should be mad.

He’s just…not.

Despite his constant struggles to bite back his temper, especially when it comes to you, Eren surprises himself by the pointed lack of red in his vision. The heat’s still there, though; something coils in his chest that reminds him of anger, has the same flavor and the same spark, but none of the pulsing rhythm is there. Only something slow and catching, simmering in the pit of his stomach.

You come over again that night, winding up snuggled into his bare chest and intensely concentrating on the newest episode of Game of Thrones that Eren’s been dying to watch, but can’t bring himself to pay attention to. The image of this morning, you and Jean leaning into each other and smiling conspiratorially over whatever conversation had been struck up, is burned into his brain. And he’s still not mad.

“Do you want to fuck Jean?” Eren doesn’t parse his words; he’s no good with them anyway, and he’s a straight-to-the-point person as it stands.

“What?” You shoot up off his chest, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed accusingly at him. “What gave you that idea?”

Eren’s not buying it, though; there’s a little flush rising to your cheeks, and it betrays you. Not only do you flirt with Jean when Eren’s not watching, but you do want to fuck him. And Eren’s just not mad.

“You two were flirting in the kitchen this morning– I saw you,” Eren snorts when you try to interrupt him in protest, “and it’s not like we both haven’t known about Jean’s little crush on you for the last couple months.”

“We’re friendly,” you shrug, looking down into your lap guiltily, “we’re trying to be friends.”

“Well you’re both doing a damn good job of it,” Eren rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I made you mad, I wasn’t trying to be flirty with him, I just–”

“Want to fuck him,” Eren finishes for you, carefully watching your reaction. You scowl at him, irritated, but your heart’s not in it, he can tell.

“Why are you so stuck on this idea of me wanting to sleep with Jean? I’m sorry if I went a little too far in the kitchen earlier, but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

“You keep bringing up this threesome idea,” Eren strikes right where he knows your mind’s already headed, “is it because of Jean? Is he the guy you want us to fuck?”

“You said you’d never do that,” you bite into your lip, suddenly so embarrassed. Eren’s overcome with a sudden urge to comfort you, to smooth the crease between your eyebrows and tell you that it’s okay. It confuses him, and he knows he can’t do that without betraying whatever…odd feelings are brewing in his stomach at the idea of you and Jean together, of you Jean and Eren together.

“Is it Jean?”

“It’s not Jean,” you huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not–”

“I mean, if it was going to happen, I’d rather it be Jean than some fucking rando.”

Eren’s caught you off guard, and he can tell. Your mouth hangs open a little, trying to mouth the words that you want to say, but nothing comes out. The flush on your face grows deeper, and Eren wants to kiss you. He’s always loved this about you, that you’re so filthy deep down, but you get so shy about telling him what you really want.

“W-why is that?”

“At least he’s our friend,” Eren shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant despite the bulge that’s already starting to grow in his pants at the thought, “he wouldn’t cross any lines or pull out any crazy shit on us.”

“I guess so.” You’ve returned to fiddling with the hem of your shirt, avoiding his eyes. Eren reaches out, tilts your chin up to look at him.

“C’mon, be honest with me. Is it Jean?”

“Maybe a little.” Your words may be reluctant, but your eyes have taken on that glossy, distant look that Eren knows so well. It is Jean.

Eren pauses to wonder what you’ve fantasized about in the dark, what you’ve been holding back from him. Maybe one in your mouth, one thrusting into you from behind? Riding one and taking the other down your throat? The pictures that flash through his brain have a groan threatening to slip from his lips, the raw hotness of it cutting straight through the weirdness that he’s sitting here, staring at his girlfriend, and thinking about Jean with a tent in his boxers.

“Would you do it? If you were put in the right position?”

“I…yes. I would.” Your words come out in breathless gasps; oh, you have it bad, for both of them, Eren realizes. You catch yourself before he can drag you down too far though, reining yourself in with an airy chuckle. “But I doubt Jean would even go for it. He doesn’t seem all too freaky.”

“You never know,” Eren concedes, letting the matter lie for now and pulling you back into his chest, “but you would do it, right? If he was into it.”

“If you both were, then yeah, absolutely.” Eren can feel you subtly rubbing your thighs together, and he smirks above your head where you can’t see him.

“Maybe one day we can ask him.”

A lighthearted laugh shakes your frame. “Yeah, maybe one day.”

From then on out, Eren can’t escape the plaguing thoughts of you and Jean and himself, tangled up together in a mess of sweaty limbs. Images of you gagging on Jean while Eren has a hand on the back of your head, shoving you further along his length, keep him distracted while he’s at work. Making himself cum into his hand in the shower thinking of watching Jean, face between your legs and two knuckles deep in you, Eren telling him how to make you cum, how to make you scream.

It’s become a private obsession for him, one he can’t run away from. Eren has you over at the house every night nowadays, insisting he’s been going through a lot at work and he misses your company. You, being the sweet little thing that you are, have no idea that he’s watching, baiting Jean into coming clean.

Eren has happened to “lose” all of his sweatpants but one pair, forcing you to walk around their apartment in those short little sleep shorts you favor, or ideally, just your panties and a t-shirt. He observes Jean as you pitter patter around their kitchen, keeping track of just how many times Jean’s eyes flit to where the shirt rides up as you reach for something high in the cabinets. He’s not just watching Jean, he’s watching you too; the way your breath hitches in your throat when Jean slicks his hair back, when he stretches, arms over his head, and lets a little slip of skin show.

And when he can find the presence of mind to focus, late at night with your mouth on him or his face buried between your thighs, Eren listens closely, and he’s rewarded. There’s the telltale creak of feet on the carpet, of someone lurking just outside of Eren’s barely-cracked, “accidentally” left-open bedroom door. If he listens close enough, sometimes he swears he can hear little grunts and groans coming from across the hall.

You two want each other badly enough that it’s practically weighing the air down, and Eren’s not mad, he’s frustrated. You’re both so shy, so clearly uncomfortable with the attraction between each other, how is he ever going to manage to get you both to just say it?

It turns out that Eren’s not just an observant hothead, he’s a lucky observant hothead.

It’s been three weeks since you let Eren in on your little crush, three weeks of mind-numbing observation and little bits of bait thrown out, but neither you nor Jean have risen to any of it. It’s not until you’re finishing up dinner with Eren in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a tank top and the tiniest shorts he’s ever seen, that Jean comes home, sweaty and out-of-breath from the gym, and Eren sees his opportunity.

“Hey,” Jean breathes out in greeting, whipping his sticky shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground.

“Hi, Jean,” you smile amicably at him through the doorway. Eren watches as Jean’s expression lightens, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a wide smile.

“You save me something?”

“Always.” You shake a full Tupperware container at him meaningfully before sliding it into the fridge.

“You’re too good to me,” he whistles, hands running through his hair, “I’ll get to it after I shower.”

“How was the gym?” Eren makes his presence known, looking up from his phone where he’s seated at the dining table they’ve put just outside the kitchen. Jean meets Eren’s gaze with an all-too-obvious blush rising to his cheeks; Jean always gets that little embarrassed look when Eren catches him flirting with you.

“Fine,” Jean shrugs noncommittally.

“Any cute girls?” Eren asks, returning his gaze to his phone. He can viscerally feel the startled look you give him, the stuttering of Jean’s fluid movements next to you across the room, getting a cup from the cabinet.

“What?”

Eren lifts his gaze to find exactly what he expected: Jean, subconsciously having drawn just a little too close to you for comfort, glaring over at him; you, eyes wide and questioning, the slightest hint of a frown creasing your forehead. Eren lets an easy smile grace his mouth, shrugs.

“Were there any hot girls at the gym?”

“No,” Jean answers carefully, slowly pulling his arm down, cup in hand. Eren doesn’t miss the way the two of you glance at each other, the unsaid what the fuck? passing between you two in the air.

“I figured as much,” Eren shrugs again, scrolls on his phone, “not like you’d notice, considering how much drooling you do over my girlfriend.”

The words hit the floor like a shattering glass, spreading a heavy, thick silence over the room. Eren doesn’t dare look up from his screen, doesn’t want to disturb the aura of casual conversation that he’s worked to establish. He can’t jump in to reassure Jean that he doesn’t mind the other man’s flirtation and ogling glances, not too quickly. Eren has to spin this just right, back the both of you into the corner you so desperately want to be in.

“Eren,” you finally hiss, scowling at him. Eren knows you must be confused, but you’ll understand in a moment if he can play his cards right. “What the hell?”

Jean, for his part, is stock-still and bright red, looking between you and Eren like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know,” Eren rolls his eyes and stands from the table, leans against it with his hands in his pockets, twitching with anticipation, “we’ve talked about his little crush on you.”

“I– I don’t,” Jean tries to stutter out a rebuttal, but Eren cuts his words short with a cool, calculated grin.

“Yeah, you do,” Eren saunters over to the kitchen to place firm hands on your shoulders, turning you to face Jean, “but if you haven’t noticed that she has a little crush on you too, then you’re blind.”

“Eren!” Eren can hear the panic in your voice, can feel your shoulders tense up with embarrassment, but he’s hardly paying attention. His eyes never leave Jean, watching as the muscles of his chest and shoulders flex with the tension humming through his body.

“What are you playing at, Jaeger?” Jean narrows his eyes, finally picking up on Eren’s little game. Eren bites back a grin; if only Jean understood what game they were actually playing here.

“Nothing,” Eren says innocently, knowing full-well that the dark glint in his eyes is telling a different story, “it’s not like I blame you, I mean, look at her.��

Eren rubs relaxing circles into the skin of your shoulders, urging you to loosen up under his touch. You’re still strung tight, practically vibrating with confusion and shame under him, but Eren can feel the way your skin’s starting to run hot. Most of that tautness in your muscles is nothing but pure, unadulterated want, Eren’s felt it enough times now to know the difference.

“Eren…” the pinch of anger has faded from your voice now, and Eren can hear the cautionary, are we doing this now? tone hiding behind the words. In response, Eren digs his thumb into a particularly tough spot between your shoulder and your neck, wrenches an unwilling gasp from you.

“She really likes you, Jean,” Eren’s leaning over your shoulder, ignoring your warning completely, practically nose-to-nose with Jean now, “wants to fuck you, wants us to fuck you.”

Jean’s face stutters while his mouth remains silent, but just before he hardens his mouth into a flat line, schools his face back into that perpetually suspicious scowl of his, Eren catches it. Jean’s trying to keep himself closed off, but Eren’s faster, and he can see the flicker of arousal that floats over Jean’s face.

“You’re fucking with me,” Jean counters, but there’s a questioning lilt to his words. Eren grins, shakes his head. Jean looks down at you, trembling and frozen in Eren’s grip. “He’s fucking with me, right?”

“Tell him,” Eren coos, leaning down to whisper hot against your ear the way he knows will get a fire started in your belly, “tell him the truth, it’s okay.”

“He’s not,” you choke out, strangled and nervous, “it’s…it’s not a game.”

Jean blinks once at you, twice at Eren. Eren grabs you by the chin, gently guides your mouth to his. All of his suspicions are confirmed when he kisses you; you open up for him a little too easily, let him suck your tongue into his mouth with no resistance at all. And when he releases you, looks back up at Jean with a question in his eyes only to find that Jean’s gaze has darkened, mouth just ever-so-slightly ajar, Eren smirks. He’s got both of you right where he wants you.

“What do you think, Kirschstein?” Eren brings his hands up to hold your breasts, twisting your nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. “Isn’t she cute?”

“I, I mean–”

“She’s so pretty,” Eren nips at your ear, pulls a little whimper from you, but he sees how your eyes never leave Jean’s, “and she listens so well, such an obedient little thing.”

“Eren,” you pant, the last bits of your anxiety showing in the tremble of your voice. Eren shushes you disapprovingly, sneaks a hand down between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make your knees weak.

“Gets bratty when she’s nervous,” Eren explains, flitting his eyes up towards Jean, who looks like he hasn’t taken a breath in several minutes, “don’t you want to show Jean how good you can be, hm?”

“Mhm,” you hum. It’s quiet, but it makes Jean’s eyes widen, makes him suck in a sharp fuck between his teeth.

“Why don’t you kiss her, hm?” Eren shoves you into Jean’s arms, startling both of you.

“Jaeger, I don’t–”

“I’m serious,” Eren backs away a few feet to prove his point, smiling earnestly, “kiss her.”

Jean scowls, looks between you, Eren, back to you. Eren takes note of how Jean’s hands haven’t left their grip on your waist where he caught your stumble from Eren’s push, how your arms are tucked into Jean’s tacky, strong chest.

“Is he serious?” Jean murmurs down at you.

“Only if you want it.” Eren hates the self-conscious waver in your voice, wishes he could have told you everything he’s seen over the last few weeks, all the evidence he’s collected that yes, Jean very much does want it. But then again, if he had, he wouldn’t be treated with the sight before him now: you and Jean, nervous in each other’s arms, practically vibrating with the idea of exploring each other for the first time.

“I,” –Jean licks his lips– “I want it. Want you.”

“Me too,” your voice is hardly louder than a breath, Eren recognizes the sound in a heartbeat. You’re already strung out, fingernails digging ever-so-slightly into the skin of Jean’s chest.

“Can I?” Jean’s so sickeningly sweet with you, Eren almost wants to roll his eyes. He likes to be sweet with you sometimes, but if Jean only knew how much you could take, the dirty, mean things that you beg Eren for…it occurs to Eren that maybe he can show Jean sometime, and his boxers start to tent underneath his sweats.

“Yes,” you tilt your chin up to Jean pleadingly, and Jean’s resolve finally breaks.

Eren’s delighted to see that Jean’s chasteness doesn’t hold out long; after only a few minutes have passed, your hands are flying all over each other, breathless little moans passing between your mouths. Jean’s hand trails down to cup your ass, and Eren looks on intently as the flesh gives under Jean’s grip through hooded eyes. Eren’s hand has subconsciously traveled down to the front of his sweats, palming roughly at the erection that’s showing through the thick fabric.

Jean starts to wander away from your mouth, eyes shut as he peppers gentle kisses along your jawline, feather-light nips down your neck. As if he’d forgotten about your clothes, Jean’s eyes widen when he feels the strap of your tank top under his mouth, and his eyes flit to Eren in question. Eren nods at him, tries to offer an encouraging smile that comes off more like a wicked smirk.

Jean slowly– ever so slowly– slips the strap over your shoulder, kissing at the newly-bare skin. Eren already knows you’re sensitive there; Jean quickly learns from the quivering gasp that reaches his ears.

“Is this okay?” Jean mumbles against your skin; Eren has to choke down a gag at his sugary tone.

“Take it off,” Eren answers for you, cheeks burning at how coarse he already sounds, throat swollen and thick with arousal. Jean scowls at Eren over your shoulder, turns softer eyes back to you.

“Please,” you echo Eren’s sentiment, raising your arms to emphasize your answer. Eren doesn’t miss the slight shake of Jean’s fingers as he reaches for the hem of your tank top, rids you of it slowly. Once you’re bare, Jean’s eyes darken, almost glossing over.

“Fuck,” Jean breathes out, ghosting a thumb over one of your peaked nipples. Eren’s chest swells with pride at how completely wrecked you’ve gotten Jean already; he’s practically drooling down at your half-bare form.

“Told you she was pretty.” Eren grins, gripping his erection harder through his pants. You were right about this, you were so right. There’s not enough blood flow above Eren’s waistline for him to focus on how bizarre it is that he’s getting off to another man, his friend even, pawing at his girlfriend; all he can process is the tangible heat of the room, memorizing each little spot on your body Jean’s hands return to in admiration, learning which parts of you Jean likes and which actions of Jean’s make your knees shake.

You peek over your shoulder at Eren, as if you’ve just remembered he’s in the room, and his knees nearly give out. Your lips are swollen and wet from Jean’s slow, strong kisses, from pulling your lip between your teeth in shame, and your eyes are glistening with unshed tears of pure want. Eren’s never seen you so beautiful.

“Do you want to…” you trail off, offering Eren a beckoning hand, but he declines, grinning at you.

“Have your fun,” Eren says, words a sharp blade against Jean’s steadfast comfort, “you begged for it enough.”

Your mouth stutters open in embarrassment, a half-formed protest on your lips, but Jean’s deft fingers grab your chin, gently directing you back to him. He gives Eren a chastising frown, clear disapproval of Eren’s snark. Eren thinks that he likes the contrast they give you as a team; Eren the firm hand of discipline, and Jean the soothing balm to ease your cries.

“Is he telling the truth?” Jean questions you softly, free hand cupping your breast ever-so-tenderly. Eren watches your back arch, watches the way you lean desperately into Jean’s touch. “Did you beg for this?”

“Yes,” you say, voice breaking under the weight of your arousal.

“Okay,” Jean nods, as if he needs any more reassurance, Eren thinks with a roll of his eyes.

“Her mouth,” Eren calls out, unable to rein in the telltale rasp of desperation in his voice, “she’s good with her mouth.”

Jean’s eyebrows furrow in thought; Eren can see the choices flying across his face, to have you spread on the counter before him, feel the warmth of your walls around his fingers, or the soft give of your throat around his cock.

“I like doing that,” you whisper, so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you. Jean’s eyes shoot open in surprise, until a slow, understanding smile spreads over his face. Eren almost wheezes with relief.

“You like using your mouth?” Jean thumbs lovingly at your lip, smiles wider at your enthusiastic nod. Without being told (Eren decides to reward you later for being so good for your guest, showing off how well he’s trained you) you climb down onto your knees, sitting back and waiting patiently.

Jean looks back to Eren, the last thin string of hesitation taut between them and aching to be cut. Eren snaps it with an affirmative nod of his head, shoves his pants and boxers down to finally free his dick and bring it against the familiar skin of his palm.

Jean’s eyes flick to Eren’s length, pausing just a little too long. Eren doesn’t have the wherewithal to think too much into that now, only to appreciate the rush of heat it sends through his veins. In answer, Jean pushes his shorts down his legs, sending the compression boxers he’d worn for the gym sliding to the floor with them, cock bobbing free and dangling in front of your face.

“Pretty,” you murmur, wrapping your hand around the base and pressing a light kiss to the tip affectionately. Jean’s head falls back, and he groans; a throaty, appreciative sound.

Eren was growing frustrated initially with Jean’s softness towards you, but it hadn’t occurred to him that you might behave differently towards Jean than you do towards him. When you take Eren in your mouth, you’re all enthusiasm, dipping as far as you can go the moment he taps your tongue, retching on him, drool hanging in long strings from your tongue and wetting your chest.

With Jean, however, you place curious little kisses up the bottom of him, deliver kitten licks to the tip before swirling your tongue in long, slow circles around where he’s flushed and dripping for you. Jean swears repeatedly under his breath, brings a tentative hand to the back of your head to run his fingers through your hair. Eren’s own hand slows where he’s jerking off, his gaze honing in to look on in wonder as a woman he thought he knew so well reveals a new side of herself to both of the men watching her.

“That’s– shit,” Jean groans, head lolling off his shoulders and eyebrows knitted in pleasure.

Eren feels a poignant rush of pride at watching Jean become unraveled from your mouth, watching how good you make him feel. It’s a relief for Eren as much as it is for Jean, he thinks, to watch some of that iron-clad composure drop, see the way Jean’s jaw drops slack, his shoulders slouch.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Eren hardly recognizes his own voice, gravelly as he speaks into the sticky air. Jean meets Eren’s eyes, both of their gazes half-lidded and desperate.

“So good,” Jean answers, only breaking eye contact when a satisfied little hum rings out from you, sending vibrations ricocheting through Jean’s body and making him roll his head back again, a little moan echoing out into the room.

“Doing so good for him, baby,” Eren strides closer, bold and half-mad, wanting to see the way your cheeks hollow around Jean, the way that drool is starting to collect in a glossy sheen on your chin. “You like it? Like having him down your throat?”

You nod, mouth still full and eyes shining up at them, glazed over and content. Eren softly cups the back of your head for a whisper of a moment, loving that he has this relationship with you, loving that he can watch such a sacred sight and know that you love him all the same, loving what a filthy little thing he’s turned you into.

“Fuck,” Jean exhales, eyes widening as Eren’s tenderness morphs into something urgent, shoving you further along Jean’s length, “don’t– don’t choke her–”

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it?” Eren’s affectionate gaze turns hard and expectant, hand forcing your head to move faster, harder, further. “You love having your mouth full, don’t you? Nasty little slut.”

“Mhm,” you whine around Jean’s cock, pulling a throaty groan out from him.

“You’re being– shit, too rough with her,” Jean tries and fails to shoot Eren a glare, eyes flitting back down to you when your throat constricts around him with a gag.

“She loves it,” Eren corrects him coolly, mouth quirking up at the corner when you retch, “loves being whored out. You want his cum down your throat? Show him how bad you want it.”

You slip your tongue out, letting it rub down the thick vein on the underside of Jean’s cock, opening your throat that much more for him. Jean nearly whimpers, bringing his hand to the other side of your head, holding you softer, more gently than Eren, but clearly beginning to lose himself.

“So good for me, princess,” Jean murmurs down at you, chest beginning to heave with the growing intensity of your movements. You blink up, hearts in your hooded eyes, humming around Jean affectionately. Eren chuckles darkly.

“Is that what you are? Jean’s little princess?” Eren shoves you down particularly hard, grinning cruelly as your body constricts with a vicious gag, Jean groaning loudly next to him.

“F-fuck, I’m–”

“Getting close?” Eren murmurs in Jean’s direction, never taking his eyes off of where you’re on your knees, crying and gagging and working so hard for Jean’s cum, “I bet. She’s fucking good.”

Your eyes flick between the two men towering over you, trying desperately to keep your throat open to receive the little thrusts of Jean’s hips, hands folded in your lap obediently as you squirm, rubbing your thighs together in a fruitless attempt to gain some much-needed friction. Eren notices the steady, needy rocking of your hips, smirks triumphantly.

“Look at her, like a bitch in heat,” Eren sneers, “squirming and shit, trying to get herself off with your cock down her throat. Give her what she wants, Kirschstein, come on.”

Your gaze lands on Jean, watery eyes blinking pleadingly. Eren can hear the little hitches in Jean’s breath growing more frequent, more urgent, and he isn’t sure where he wants to look more: down at you, so needy and pleading on the floor, throat stuffed and wet between the legs, or Jean, strung out and panting down at you, hips canting into your mouth harshly.

And then Jean’s cumming, and Eren realizes where he wants to look, has to squeeze the base of his cock hard. Jean throws his head back, eyes screwed shut, hand fisting into your hair and fingertips rubbing against the back of Eren’s hand, a deep, raspy groan clawing its way out of his chest. His hips push forward of their own accord; Eren can hear you coughing as Jean cums down your throat, a lot by the sound of it, but Eren can’t be bothered to look away from the other man, fucked out and untethered all from your mouth. Eren’s damn close to busting from just watching Jean cum, knowing the feeling all too well and never having anticipated how erotic it would be to watch another man be brought to his knees by you on yours.

“Holy shit,” Jean breathes, barely a whisper of a statement, chuckling airily down at you when you release him with a little pop.

“Was that…good?” You venture, smiling shyly. Eren nearly scoffs; you’re so good at playing the part of the innocent little thing, when he knows better. You’re a menace, a vixen.

“That was incredible,” Jean says, and Eren can hear the bare honesty in his statement.

“Up.” Eren interrupts your little moment with Jean to tug you to your feet. It prompts an expression of bewilderment to appear on your face, as if you’d forgotten that he needs to get off too, and so do you. Eren turns to Jean, appraises him. “I’m going to fuck her, you’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Wait, Eren–”

“Wait?” Eren chides, ripping those tiny shorts from your body like the inconvenience they are, leaving you bare and wanting. “Don’t you want to get fucked? I mean, look at you. You’re soaked.”

There’s a little glisten at the apex of your thighs, the evidence of you rubbing your legs together in a desperate attempt for stimulation shining in the low lights of the kitchen. Eren pulls you over to the chair that had started it all, where he’d been sitting when this beautiful opportunity had stumbled across him. He sits, tugging you into his lap with a smack to your ass, settling you over his cock and letting you grind yourself against it, slick him up.

“Tell me,” Eren pinches your chin, forces your eyes to his, “don’t you want me to fuck you?”

“Please, please,” you gasp, working your hips over him like a woman starved, like your last chance at salvation is getting Eren as deep inside of you as he’ll go. Eren smiles, pleased with your answer, and lifts your hips, letting you sink down on him with an endless, pitchy moan. He glances over your shoulder to see Jean, sitting across the table from you both, tugging absentmindedly on his half-hard cock and watching intently. The sight of it fuels the fire in Eren’s veins, convinces him to convince you to keep showing off, show Jean how hot you two can be when you get into it.

“Give it to me then,” Eren slaps your ass again, nips at your jaw, “show me how bad you need to be fucked, baby.”

“E-Eren,” you whine, rolling your hips down on him the way he knows you love, the way that makes a little bulge appear right at the base of your tummy, the evidence of just how deep he is.

“There you go,” he coos, grabbing your hips and working you faster, forcing you towards your orgasm as fast as he can because he knows good and well he’s not going to last, “all better, yeah? Little slut likes having her cunt stuffed full?”

“Yeah I do,” you say dreamily, eyes rolling back as Eren starts to thrust up into you in tune with the canting of your hips. He can see Jean over your shoulder, fully hard again and pulling at his cock, looking mesmerized. Eren catches Jean’s eye, smirks like a cat that’s got the cream.

“He’s watching you,” Eren murmurs to you, purposefully loud enough for Jean to hear, “watching you get fucked dumb. Gonna show Jean how pretty you are when you cum?”

“I-I–” A well-placed thrust from Eren makes you cut yourself off with a sob, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Erin grins, something feral and predatory, snapping his hips up into you harder.

“Gonna cum so fast I bet,” Eren grunts, “so needy for it, my spoiled fuckin' brat. Can’t ever be satisfied, can you?”

“Uh-uh,” you whimper, thighs already beginning to shake around his hips. Eren’s eyes are glued behind you, on Jean’s strung-out gaze, on the desperate motion of his hand around his cock. Eren wonders if just the sight of you fucking him is enough to make Jean cum again; the thought spurs him on, has him jackhammering up into you like his life depends on it.

“Quit holding out on me, then,” Eren growls, “can feel you clenching down on me, know you want to.”

“I w-want to.” A fresh wave of tears has escaped your mindless eyes, dripping down the side of your face, off your jaw, onto your chest.

“Fucking do it then,” Eren snaps, growing closer to the end of his line with every punch of his hips up into you, “show Jean what a little slut you are, how hard you cum for me. Go on, show him.”

“E-Eren, I– oh, oh fuck, I’m gonna–”

“There you go,” Eren snarls like he’s tired of waiting on you, feeling your body break and bloom all at once in his hands, “there you go, good girl.”

Eren watches Jean look on as your body thrashes, rolls with the waves of your orgasm quaking through you, the way his jaw drops a little when you wail and leave dark half-moon indentations into Eren’s shoulders. Jean’s hand is moving impossibly fast in time with Eren’s hips, and when Eren feels himself getting close, only moments away from his release, he meets eyes with Jean. Something overtakes him, something dark and unfamiliar, and Eren flits his eyes down to Jean’s cock, back up to Jean’s gaze, and nods. Jean cums with a loud groan and a shudder, triggering Eren’s orgasm. Eren clutches you to his chest desperately, pinning you down onto his cock and filling you with his cum as deep as he can manage, groaning in your ear amidst the sound of your whimpers and whines.

A beat passes, heavy and pregnant with tension. Eren and Jean are still locked eye to eye, watching each other to see who will make the first move. Jean, coated in his own release, glances down to see Eren’s cum dripping out of you, seems to come back to himself with a shudder.

“I…I’m going to shower,” he says, clunky and awkward, standing and pulling his shorts back over his softening cock, mindless of the white ropes decorating his abdomen.

“Jean?” You murmur into Eren’s skin, sitting up slightly and wincing at the feel of Eren’s half-hard cock still digging into the most sensitive parts of you.

“Yeah?” Jean stops in his tracks, looking over at you and Eren with all the tension of a wild animal that’s been caught.

“That was fun,” you smile dreamily, slumping back into Eren’s chest and blinking up at him, “don’t you think, babe?”

“Lots of fun, baby,” Eren strokes your hair, urging you to stay curled into him, knows you need to for a few minutes after he’s fucked you half-dumb, “what do you think, Kirschstein?”

“It was…” Jean gulps, looks around the room with a pink stain to his cheeks, “it was fun, yeah.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed us,” you giggle deliriously, “we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Is that so?” Jean eyes Eren, narrows his eyes suspiciously. Eren almost rolls his eyes, out of patience for this Jean, all cautious and nervous like he hadn’t just cum down your throat.

“I think so,” Eren says in confirmation, trailing a hand up your back soothingly, “anything for my girl, right?”

“Right,” Jean frowns, almost as if Eren had said something in another language.

“See you soon, Jeanie,” you wave him off to the shower sleepily, biting a smile back behind your swollen lips. Jean makes a swift exit, still blushing madly. “Do you think he liked it?”

“I think he loved it,” Eren chuckles down at you, still cording his fingers through any parts of your hair that aren’t a tangled mess.

“And you?”

“I’d do it again,” Eren answers you with a noncommittal shrug. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“Seemed like you really enjoyed yourself. Am I the only one with a crush on Jean?”

“I’m not gay,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. You simply keep your disbelieving glare on him for an extra beat or two; Eren squirms uncomfortably under your knowing gaze, not necessarily wanting to confront this while he’s still balls-deep in you. To his relief, you ease up, gingerly stepping off of him and offering him a hand.

“Mmm, okay. We’ll talk after a shower?”

“Fine,” Eren grumbles, letting you pull him towards his half of the apartment and hoping you don’t notice the quick glance he shoots over his shoulder, catching a flash of Jean’s bare skin as he steps into his bathroom.

#hehehe #i'm so thrilled to be posting u guys have no idea #eren jaeger x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger smut #jean kirschstein smut #jean kirstein smut #eren yeager smut #jean x you

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bananami · 2 years ago

Text

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

characters: dabi x reader (x hawks sort of)

synopsis: you've never "finished" before and apparently dabi is the first person you thought to ask to help rectify that issue. somehow hawks gets roped into all of this, and not even in the way he wishes. poor hawks. maybe next time bby. (2k)

warnings: 18+/mdni, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE LAST SEASON, anyways onto the good stuff - fingering, masturbation, a LOT of dirty talk, dabi says fuck a lot, implied threesome, recording and technically sexting, praise kink AND degradation kink, dabi is a little mean at certain points, somewhat implied yandere on hawks and dabi's end if you squint, reader is referred to with feminine pronouns and terms, reader is implied to have female anatomy

a/n: this took on a whole ass life of it's own. seriously hawks was never going to be a part of this but then I thought hmmm that could work. SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AFTER THIS. i am not responsible for what you read. you are responsible for the media that you choose to consume. i've given ample warnings on content and spoilers. if you're sticking around, HAVE FUN. and no i did not proof read this... xxx

"You want me to do what?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Then I'm not gonna teach you."

"Touya!" You whined. "C'mon, I never ask you for anything- don't give me that look, I don't! I've never enjoyed it, I'm not asking you to show me, just maybe give me some pointers."

Dabi opens his phone to scroll through anything he can to distract himself from the effects of the conversation. It's bad enough hearing you talk about sex, let alone having to make eye contact with you at the same time. "Doll, I hate to break it to you, but if I'm being honest, it's probably got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you tend to date morons who think that if they grope around enough the clit will magically appear."

You scrunched your nose. "That was crass."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pokes at your forehead, knocking you off kilter and falling back onto the other side of the couch, before going back to scrolling through his phone. "You want me to help you get off and you think me mentioning the clit is crass? Make it make sense."

You wished he wouldn't word it that way, even if it technically was exactly what you were asking from him. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to show me how to do anything, I just a little advice to make it better."

"It takes two to tango, baby. You being good at it doesn't mean they will be. You're putting it all on yourself and you can't do that."

"Ok..." you pause for a moment, gathering the courage to even whisper the next few words that cross your lips, "what about when I do it myself?"

That makes Dabi pause, his attention drawn immediately away from his phone and back onto you. "What do you mean when you do it yourself?"

You huff, getting slightly irritated with his line of questioning, as though it isn't obvious what you're saying. "Ok look, we've been friends for a long time and there's no one else that I trust enough to have this conversation with." Your fingers together as you attempt to keep eye contact with him while speaking. "I have a hard time...finishing."

"Why?" There it was. No judgment, no laughing, no making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Dabi was straightforward and you knew that no matter what you asked, he would find a way to accommodate for you.

"I don't know," you admit, "it's like I get right there and think it's gonna happen and then it just doesn't."

Dabi is silent for a long time. He looks lost in his head, leaving you unsure on what to say. When he finally speaks it leaves you with a bit of relief. Because he again sounds genuinely curious. Although a little strained.

Unbeknownst to you, that may be because of the raging hard on Dabi is trying to keep from getting any worse or more noticeable.

"What are you using?"

"I've tried literally everything. I even bought one of those cute little vibrators from that place you and Keigo always talk about."

Fuck. That's the last thing he needed to hear. Wait until he told Hawks. He'd probably kick Dabi's ass for not calling him immediately. He'd probably do a lot worse after finding out what Dabi was about to offer without shooting the fucker an invite.

"Maybe you just need someone to walk you through it."

"What, like...like you do it for me."

"Like I'll tell you what to do, and if that still doesn't work then we can improvise."

You sit stock still, wondering what this would mean for your friendship with Dabi if you were to go through with it. But he was offering, he wouldn't do that if he thought it would be a bad idea. Would he?

No.

No, you trusted Dabi. That's why you came to him for this. And if he thought this was a good idea, then it had to be.

So you shook your head. You swore his eyes turned five shades darker.

"Lay down."

You do as your told almost immediately, and it doesn't go without acknowledgement.

"Good girl, I'm not gonna touch you just yet, I'm just gonna help you out of these. That alright, baby?" And you shake your head without any hesitation this time.

Dabi's finger skim the top of your jeans until they find the button to undo them. He pulls them do slowly, your panties with them, until they're completely off your legs. He drops your jeans to the floor but your eyes widen just a bit when he brings your panties to his nose and he takes a deep breathe. The embarrassment hits you full force. He slips them into his pocket, and you just know you're not getting them back.

"Open those legs and let me see you, doll." Clearly you don't move fast enough, because Dabi grabs both of your ankles to pull them apart, setting one leg up over the top of the couch, and the other bent in the opposite direction, your foot and ankle laid against his lap.

"Show me what you usually do, pretty girl. Put on a show for me."

You don't know how you can be both so embarrassed and confident at the same time, but it's something about his words that make you feel so much at once. Your fingers begin their usual dance against your skin, and it does nothing but spur him on.

"There you go, pretty baby just needs some guidance doesn't she? Fucking rub your clit for me, just how you like it, show me."

Your fingers rub against your clit, and it makes your body hot having his eyes right on your most sensitive parts. You can feel it building inside you, heightening when his eyes find yours and he smirks. "What do you want? Need me to tell you how pretty that pussy is? You want some praise, you little slut? A little degradation? You like when I call you my good little slut? I bet you fucking do. Shove two fingers into the pussy, let me see you take them."

Your head is fuzzy as you do what he says. Your fingers aren't very long, but they get enough of the job done. Dabi's words do more of the work than anything.

"Fuck, listen to the wet cunt, pull your fingers out, rub your clit again. That's right, baby, make a mess for me."

You keep at it for a while, but it's not until you get to the closest you've ever been to cumming that you realize it's not gonna work. You can feel it, and you want it so bad you're practically crying, but there's just something missing.

Dabi catches on quickly. "No go, baby?" He teases you. "You need to cum so bad, don't you?" You can't do anything but keep moving your fingers and shaking your head.

He lets you go a little longer, savoring the tears glistening in your eyes. And then he's pulling at your wrist, yanking your hand up toward his face, and wrapping his lips around your fingers. The same two that were just inside you.

The audible gasp that falls from your mouth does nothing to quell the growing excitement inside him. He's licking your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls them from his mouth, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Any of those shitty little boyfriends get a taste straight from the source?" You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he rolls his eyes. "Your pussy, any of them ever eat it? Or did they skip the foreplay? The look on your face is telling me all I need to know. Their loss, doll. Taste so fucking good, could spend hours with my tongue inside you."

It's his fingers ghosting over your clit that makes you almost choke. You have to shove your hand against your mouth to keep from being too loud.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dabi's voice is practically seething, "let me hear every fucking noise I make come from those lips. Made me wait this fucking long, you owe me that."

Your hand is forcibly removed from your hand and pinned at your side.

"Keep it there." He commands. And then two of his fingers are slipping inside of you. "Such a fucking cocktease, you know that? Have me and Keigo practically drooling over you and you wanna choose a bunch of fuckboys instead? They can't even get you off. Now you're coming to me wanting to cum. Fuck you. Beg."

"Please, please, please," you don't hesitate. And all of a sudden all you can think about is Keigo. And Dabi. And Keigo and Dabi. "Need to, please, please-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing. So fucking tight. What are you thinking about, huh? Is it because I mentioned Keigo." You can't help it. "There you go again, baby, does he make you wet too? I bet you wish he was here to help too."

It's a fleeting thought, but Dabi can't help himself. Hawks would be pissed if he missed this. He tries facetime, but no answer. Sorry fuck. The next best thing will have to do.

Dabi pulls up his camera and hits record at the same time that his fingers curl and he snaps, bordering on too much and not enough.

"That's right, want it dripping all down my hand. Cry for me, little mouse, let me see those tears." His thumb plays with your clit as he focuses the camera right on the place where you and him meet. "Can't tell you how many times him and I have had to jack each other off to the thought of your pussy."

You choke on your tears, "Touya-"

"Need you to come all over my fingers, baby. Show Keigo how good I'm making you feel. You'll let him help out next time, won't you?" You don't understand why, but your brain is so foggy, and you nod vigorously, maybe to agree, maybe to clear your head, it didn't really matter at this point. "Yeah? You'll let him eat that little pussy, right? He's been dying for a taste. Is that what you want, you want us to share you?"

The thought of them sharing you is what does it. Dabi swears he's never heard a more beautiful noise than the sounds you make when you orgasm. He doesn't let up, his fingers still relentless inside you. You almost panic when you begin to feel the next wave pass over you, similar but different from the last one.

"He can lick your pretty cunt while I pound into you, hmm. Or maybe I'll let him have your pussy first since he missed out today, so long as I get to take your ass while he does. Or you think you can squeeze the both of us inside this tight pussy? A little effort, but I bet we can make it work, doll." The chuckle that leaves him is almost sadistic, and all of a sudden, you feel your body snap.

"Look how she squirts," you hear him saying, "pussy's a fucking dream." He lands a slap against it that makes you flinch from how oversensitive you feel, and hits send on the video.

The next couple of minutes are spent in silence, except for Dabi, who is whispering things like did so good, perfect for both of us, such a good girl.

Dabi makes sure your cleaned, having to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, where he sits you against the countertop and begins running a rag over the inside of your thighs. It's distracting enough that you don't hear the vibration of his phone against the granite counter.

His smirk only grows at the message that lights across the screen.

Hawks: dICK

Hawks: im gonna kick your ass

Hawks: i'll be right over

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #touya x keigo #dabihawks #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabihawks x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #keigo x reader #dabi x you #hawks x you #dabi smut #hawks smut

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nsf-watch · 2 months ago

Text

REAPER SEX HEADCANONS

!! 18 + • MDNI

!! Claiming, Possessive Reaper, DS dynamics, domSwitch! Reaper, Gender neutral reader, ambiguous genitals, Pegging implied if you're a v haver, Hickies..., Teasing that might border degrading?, Blood play mention, Breeding, Overstim, Bondage, Face fucking so Blowjob

!! I firmly believe in kinky asl power switch Reaper o7

GABRIEL WHO...

Unsurprisingly, loves marking you everywhere.

He loves the act and the result more than anything.

Seeing you laying there, a whimpering and panting mess as he sucks and bites your neck.

He doesn't care if they're obvious tomorrow.

In fact, it gets him off knowing other people will see it.

Knowing other people can see that you're claimed by him.

And those claws?

He loves desperately sinking them into your flesh, dragging them along your skin slowly.

"I'm not going to cut you. Don't be so foolish."

He wouldn't mind seeing blood though, would think it's sexy..

Not that he'd tell you, of course.

Dominant.

Even if he's riding you.

"You're a mess and I'm the one taking you? Tch."

Goes for whatever pace best suits his needs at the moment, and usually that's a slower but rough one.

Just him, slowly thrusting out of you before snapping his hips back against you.

Or him, on top, groaning as he rolls his hips against yours and brutally fucks himself on you.

If you've pissed him off, though..

Especially if you made him jealous..

Oh boy.

Rough and fast fucking coming your way, soldier.

Good luck.

He's leaving deep purple and red marks on you, but making sure they sting a little more.

Loves overstimulating you, doesn't like overwhelming you.

So he'll do just that.

Thrusting into you at a pace that leaves your mind numb and your body ready hot.

"You think you can do whatever you want and just fucking get away with it? Sorry, prince(ss), it doesn't work like that."

Making you suck on his fingers as he rides you to shut you up.

Or, even better, tying you down, sitting on your chest and making you suck his cock.

He loves the feeling of your tongue gliding along his girth dick as he fucks your throat.

Your gagging makes him want to cum down your throat and make you take it every time.

Praises you each time for it.

Always cums deep inside you when you're the one taking it.

Wants to just breed you every time.

"You want me to breed you? You want me to fill you up with my babies? Pathetic."

(Pathetic = Yes, absolutely, fuck let me do this all the fucking time to you.)

Reaper will go gently if it's what you need, though.

As much as he loves the kinkier and tougher, will absolutely be gentle with you.

He won't be so mean either.

He'll go at just the right pace, making sure you're enjoying it every step of the way.

Every dominant should know it's not just about them.

And Gabriel has been doing this for years.

100% always does aftercare.

Without fail, he cleans you up and runs you a bath if you're not too tired from it all.

Holds you close to him.

Isn't that verbal during after care, but his actions more than tells you he cares about you.

#overwatch #mdni blog #18+ mdni #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch reaper #reaper overwatch #gabriel reyes #gabriel reaper reyes

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merakiui · 2 years ago

Note

!! Goldfishie Riddle !!

Gosh the possibilities,, maybe you were originally a volunteer but were kidnapped as a test subject for Riddle and given to him as a breeding toy? The scientists haven’t quite figured out mer biology yet and you were closest to the standoffish goldfish… so you’re a sacrifice in the name of science.

Somehow they’ve altered you for life underwater so you can breathe and be with him, but you don’t have fins or a tail, only clumsy human feet and hands. Can’t have you swimming away from riddle after all. There’s a shallower part of the pool for you to be able to stand up in but overall Riddle has access to you anytime he wants.

The chase part,,, Riddle gently nonconning you bc he thinks chase = mate??? And you have to explain to him the eggs don’t come out of humans, they stay in your tummy. And when the time comes to give birth, you’re in the shallow area of the water with Riddle gently but firmly stroking your tummy to help the babies come out. He whispers encouragement into your ears <333 helping you through the birth until your little goldfish fry are born! They’re all mini copies of their father with a few human features from you.

As a side note I imagine he’s a lil bit chubby in the cheeks for some reason, I just wanna squish <3

AAAAA YES YES!!!!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, female reader, non-con, pregnancy, aphrodisiac use, oviposition, breeding, delusion, implied stockholm syndrome)

Just imagine how curious he becomes once he realizes your arrival in his enclosure is meant to be a permanent fixture. Riddle is so visibly pleased by this change that he's smiling brightly, so overcome with happiness that he momentarily switches back to mer language and so all you hear are delighted clicks and whistles. He adores you so much; that much is obvious when he tries to be as close to you as possible in the water, reaching out with webbed hands to welcome you into his arms even if you're so intent on staying in the shallows, as far from him as possible. He's growing frustrated with your aversion, but he must remember to remain calm. Nothing good will come out of impatience, and humans are fragile creatures. He must treat you with care and respect.

Riddle tries to talk to you about random things to soothe you. Aside from the fact that you have been paired for mating purposes, the both of you are still friends. And isn't this good for your friendship? Won't living with him in his enclosure bring you much closer than before? Riddle isn't dangerous. He's nothing like those brutish moray eels or that sly octopus! He's sweet and genuine, and he only wants you to be comfortable while you're here. His space is your space now, and he doesn't mind sharing it. In fact, it would be so nice if you could sleep beneath the water with him, yet you're so determined to stay away. He doesn't understand what he's doing wrong. He shares his meals, he smiles at you, he talks to you, he tries to love you even if you avoid him... He's doing everything a good friend (and mate) is meant to do!

Sometimes the researchers feed you a strange medicine and it allows you to temporarily love him enough for you to let him explore your peculiar anatomy. Riddle likes to learn through hands-on experiences, so when you're so pliable and obedient his delicate fingers will spread your pussy open so he can peer inside while silently wondering if this is where your eggs will come out of. You stretch so wide! He's so amazed and awestruck when he fits three fingers in in one sudden thrust. And the reactions you make to all of his touches are so inviting. When you arch your back, when you gasp and moan, when your fingers curl into his hair when he slides his fingers out and replaces them with his tongue... Everything you do is so cute. He drags himself out of the water and onto the platform in the shallows, pressing his body against yours, to kiss at every part of you, cold hands curling around your breasts to squeeze and tug. When you're like this, you always let him sleep with you in the aftermath. You even let him hug you! Even though you may dislike the medicine the researchers give you, Riddle loves the effects it has on you.

You've told him time and time again that you can't release any eggs naturally and that there's no way you can mate in the way he expects to mate with you. The first time should have landed, but it took a few more insistent statements for Riddle to understand. Of course it would be different for you. You're a human with different anatomy and mating customs. But that doesn't mean he can't give you eggs. Merfolk are very adaptable creatures, and Riddle is a determined goldfish in love! When he chases you in the tank and you avoid him (though you aren't very fast; how can you possibly out-swim a mer when you don't possess the fins and tail necessary for cutting through the water so smoothly?), he thinks this is finally happening. You're accepting him and he can start a family with you. He's made sure to produce many eggs of his own so that they can all find a nice temporary home inside that warm, wet hole he liked to finger and lick all those times when you were under the influence of the medicine.

He's so gentle. His arms are wrapped around you and his tail curls between your legs, and he presses himself flush against your front when he thrusts all the way inside, softly cooing at you in an incoherent mix of mer and human language. He's learned that some humans often mate facing one another, so he wants to try this for your first time. And it feels so snug inside you, and he gets to admire your pretty face as you cry and whine. He'll swallow every protest with plenty of open-mouthed kisses, rocking inside you so very slowly so you can get used to him. You're clenching so hard and it's so tight inside that he wonders how an entire clutch will ever fit, but he knows you can do it. And he tells you this when he fills you with a special sort of slick that will help the eggs settle so much easier inside your womb. You squirm and struggle in his arms, but he holds firm, promising to you that you're doing well and that it'll be okay.

Riddle's so blissfully happy when he deposits the first few eggs inside you and you slowly but surely submit, your eyes veiled with glazed emotions. He thinks he might be crying as well when he feels your stomach swell, so full of eggs and slick and semen. He's going to have a family with you! He's going to be a father! You've finally accepted him as your mate (or perhaps he ought to say lover instead?)! He can build a happy family, one that will be filled with the love he never received as a fry. Oh, he's so, so happy and he voices his enthusiasm even if you aren't all that present to absorb his praise.

You still stay in the shallows after the fact, and for once Riddle doesn't mind it. You look so beautiful with your full belly. He stares at you with his elbows propped on the ledge of the shallows, so distracted and lovestruck that even the researchers can't get through to him. Riddle panics when they try to get close to you, and he splashes them when they attempt to touch you. The minute a hand that isn't his or yours strays too close to your pregnant tummy is when he's turning red with anger, glaring so viciously at the researchers and berating them with harsh, loud clicks and whistles. Though you can't understand his words, you can tell he's threatening and cursing them to the deepest trench and back.

Riddle likes when you pat his head. He likes when you soften enough to run your fingers over his pretty ear fins or squish his cheeks between your warm, welcoming hands. His fingers wrap around your wrists to keep your hands in place and he smiles so sweetly at you. Humans have a dozen ways to communicate their love for one another and so do merfolk. Mer language sounds very musical and rhythmic to keen ears, and Riddle can sing of all the phrases mers use to convey affection. He uses these even if you can't understand the sentiment. All that matters is that you know just how much he cares for you.

He's nervous when it comes time for you to give birth. Your stomach has only grown so much in the following months, a result of the goldfish fry getting bigger within their eggs. (He never anticipated just how big you would get.) He's excited, of course, but then there's also the underlying thrum of anxiety that courses through him. You've gotten better at letting him approach you. You used to flinch away and glare; now you seem less averse to him and his careful touch. He'll hold you against his chest, one hand rubbing circles into your hip while the other caresses your bloated belly to help lessen the pressure of so many eggs. He whispers the sweetest encouragements to you, presses kisses to the back of your neck, calls you mommy so you can get used to hearing it. You'll feel so exhausted and empty after the entire process and Riddle is so proud of you. He knew you could do it.

And perhaps you'll miss the feeling of being so full and round to the point where you'll beg him to fuck you again. He will (that's a promise), but you need to rest first. You'll fall asleep listening to a lullaby sung so softly in a language you can't understand, but it sounds so beautiful all the same. Riddle will kiss your forehead while he admires the many eggs, each one filled with a tiny, precious bundle of life. He definitely cries when they hatch and he sees his precious fry for the first time, cradling as many as he can hold in his palms and arms. How can he not become so emotional when they are the culmination of his and your love? He will adore each and every single one of them, and he's so lucky to be able to raise them alongside you.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #yandere twst #tw: oviposition #tw: noncon #tw: pregnancy #tw: aphrodisiac #tw: breeding #riddle my most beloved goldfishie <3

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alexthebordercollie · 2 months ago

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Soooo I made thing. I will probably redraw this in the cannon style in the future. As for my own personal style for drawing GF stuff, I'm still fleshing it out. But I have another AU now. My Hand of God AU has Ford committing to Bill and spending years trapped in a very abusive relationship, also the apocalypse so that's fun. This one's the complete opposite direction. Ford and Fidds accidentally come into possession of a pair of twins, these boys end up being the motivation it took for Ford to cut things off with Bill and do whatever it takes to keep him from ever getting out.

(I've yet to flesh out exactly how these two were born but the boys were created through anomalous means.)

On the left is Nik (Nikola) An adrenalin junkie who loves adventure and is an absolute menace to society as is the Pines tradition. On the right is Newt (Newton), a pastel-loving soft boy who will cry if you tell him pink is a girl color and gets overly attached to every weird critter Ford brings home.

Nick is missing a pinkie because Bill cut it off while possessing Ford when he was a baby as a threat. Trying to scare Ford into compliance by threatening to kill the boys. Ford did some very unsafe brain surgery on himself to make it impossible for him to ever sleep again. Cutting off Bill's ability to control him for the most part.

Portal is gone, still living in Gravity Falls though, and keeping an eye out for anyone Bill might try to manipulate. Fidds and his wife are divorced. Emma has primary custody but Tate stays with them in GF during the summers where he often bullies Nik and Newt. But Nik and Newt don't tell their dads about it because they know how much Fidds loves his other son and they don't want to make things complicated for him. Tate is just taking out his frustration over his parents failed marriage on his half-siblings. Fidds takes the twins with him when he visits Tate and the rest of his family in California for Christmas. Ford stays behind because Emma hates him and he doesn't want to deal with her family.

Ford and Fidds aren't married both cause it's not legal yet but also tbh not sure they ever would regardless just cause Ford is pretty disinterested in those sorts of formalities. Whatever it is they have going for them right now works for him.

Heavy thoughts below the cut.

TBH I made myself sad thinking about autistic people and our relationships. The way we love isn't always obvious to NT people and it can sometimes feel like you're not good enough for anyone because loving people in the way you're expected to is such a struggle.

Sometimes I see people frame Ford^2 as this completely unrequited thing and it reminds me of the experience of loving people very intensely but feeling unable to prove it because it's so difficult to live up to the standards most people have in relationships.

I like Fiddlestan as a ship it's cute and a fun idea and I get the appeal but there's a little nagging thought in the back of my head that it kind of implies Ford's neurotypical brother is better. More capable of real love. That Ford was never good enough. Not to say Fiddleford didn't deserve better but the idea that these two couldn't have worked makes me kind of depressed for kind of personal reasons so I wanted to make up a universe where they do.

Not to say there isn't plenty of material of Ford and Fidds reconnecting as old men and making it work but the fact they lost so much of their lives to bad decisions is still sad.

#gravity falls #ford^2 #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #next gen oc

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revehae · 10 months ago

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day and night (2)

pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, gun play, degradation, slapping, kidnapping, oral (m receiving), sadist!jeno, implied dacryphilia

summary ↠ weeks have passed since you’ve known freedom and you haven’t lost hope of going home, but jeno intends to whip you into shape. eventually, you resign yourself to the fact that your new home is with jeno and haechan, and a part of you begins to make peace with that.

wc ↠ 3.1k

a/n ↠ the second and final part of day and night. this is a repost!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it had been an uncertain amount of weeks since you last had a taste of freedom; though it felt like it had been months. at least you still knew the warmth of daylight. haechan, ever lenient, was sweet enough to allow you to step briefly outside on occasion, in the gated backyard where no one could see you and you could see no one.

and without jeno’s awareness, of course. as far as jeno was concerned, you spent your days there rotting alive at their control. part of you had been long-tempted to make noise, to scream help at the top of your lungs, because you knew that haechan would never hurt you. at least, not to the extent that jeno would. but you had a creeping feeling that he’d tell jeno, because after all, it was their lives and future at stake if anyone were to find out what they did to you. and jeno would be absolutely furious. in preference of not seeing jeno seething with rage any more of which you already had in the past few weeks—because every instance ended with you in a very compromising position—you very wisely decided to brainstorm a little more.

haechan was the subject of all of your various ideas, even the least lethal ones. you had abused his kindness from the moment you were brought into this situation, in your very futile efforts to convince haechan to tell you who was “forcing” him into the crime, and to let you go. he was a willing participant, you achingly learned and accepted, but you would improve your craft this time.

it was one of those nights - you were locked up inside your room and your captors were only god knows where. when haechan entered, you were dreadful, though unsurprised. you came to learn that your captors - him especially - were awfully needy. the long weeks consisted of fueling their need to get off and them using your body to their heart’s content. this was no different, although you appreciated that haechan was at least not intentionally rough. and he was fairly submissive to you. though he followed his needs very blindly, he still had some compassion for you.

haechan looked at you, eyes begging please. seeing as you had no other real choice, you gave in to his desires as per usual, but this time with a plan.

“f-fuck,” he moaned, utterly sensitive. the moment you sank down around him, haechan was weak. it always went like that; as if the barest touch could satisfy his never-ending needs. you knew that wasn’t true, though. haechan’s greed too often overcame him.

you flattened your palms against his stomach, feeling like you were at the top of the world from above him and every bit of him was a puzzle of the earth. his mouth where his pitchy whines spilled, his wincing eyes, and the heaving of his chest like a storming sea. haechan’s every characteristic was a mere advantage to you; his pleasure bound him. it sought control over his body which it successfully conquered, and that was his achilles heel. he could never deny what his body so desperately wanted.

at almost the height of his pleasure, you attacked. by now, it was too obvious to you when haechan was at the brink. the tremble in his body, his voice soaring in pitch. he simply couldn’t stay still nor quiet. “feel good?” you asked, already aware of the answer. he couldn’t speak through his moans, only nodding his head rapidly in response. “don’t you think i deserve a reward for making you feel so good, baby?”

haechan blinked, swallowing to wet his drying throat. whatever you wanted, the way that you called him baby had him ready to give you the whole world if he could. “reward?”

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning down to gently press your lips to his neck in between your words, “you should let me go… we can rat jeno out and pin this all on him. and then you’ll have me all… to yourself. doesn’t that sound good? you can have me whenever you want and don’t have to share me.”

haechan gripped your hips, and in mere seconds he was cumming inside of you. he hadn’t yet verbally agreed, but that alone told you that he was likely on-board. if there was anything you had discovered during the span of these weeks, it was that haechan put his greed before anything.

and you felt victorious until another voice startled you.

“well, bra-fucking-vo!” jeno whooped, though you knew his amusement was probably anything but sincere. your eyes widened and you crawled off of haechan, backing away as instant fear shot through your chest. if jeno had heard all of that, it went without a doubt that you were in for a punishment.

oh, this was a classic. either jeno excelled at being at the wrong place at the wrong time or this room was something of cursed, though either way, you hated it when this happened. granted, this was only the second time it had, but jeno had invoked enough fear in you from that day alone for you to dread him ever discovering even the thought of you trying to escape.

“j-jeno, i-”

“j-j-jeno, shut the fuck up,” he mocked, switching on a dime. you could see it clearly then - the rage burning like wildfire in his irises.

haechan had been startled, too. it seemed that he only clearly got back into his head when it was too late; when jeno appeared, and he realized just how terrible of a trance you had him in only mere moments ago. it was far too easy for you to hypnotize him and put him under your enticingly dark spells.

jeno shut the door behind him and then stormed over, but much to your surprise, he didn’t storm over to you. he grabbed haechan - who had very swiftly redressed - by his collar, growling, “you fucking idiot. does your dumbass really think she’s gonna let you off the hook just like that? no, she’s gonna turn you and i both in the very second she gets the fucking chance. think with your head instead of your tiny ass balls for once.”

immediately afterwards, jeno released him roughly, making haechan nearly fall back against the sheets. and then, he finally turned to you. you crawled back, pushing yourself away with your hands, yet you had nowhere you could run nor hide. “and you. boy, do i got something for you,” jeno chuckled, and swung his flat palm towards your face. you shut your eyes, but it never came. jeno paused mid-slap, then said in the midst of his rage, “you know what? i have a better idea.”

jeno left the room. you could only dread whatever idea had suddenly popped up inside his head, and the feeling only heightened when you saw him re-enter some moments later with a gun firm in his hand. the fear on your face made him laugh, but you brought it upon yourself anyways. if you had just been an obedient little plaything for them, he would have never needed to bring out the extremes. though, shockingly enough, he walked over and handed the gun to haechan, who stared at him in confusion.

“you aren’t off the hook, baby,” jeno said mockingly, nudging haechan. “come on.”

haechan obediently followed him to the other side of the bed where you quivered and cowered. you weren’t the only one to be punished when it came down to displeasing jeno, and you probably wouldn’t believe him if he said that he knew that better than you did.

jeno grabbed you by your neck, ordering sharply, “get on your knees.”

you dropped to your knees without hesitance, only willing to please him so urgently because you didn’t want to upset him further. and god, he was easily irritable.

“you’re going to suck me off,” he said simply, “and your baby here is gonna hold that gun to your head to keep you in compliance.”

haechan’s eyes flashed with shock, and he quickly tried to dissuade jeno, “but-”

“no ‘but’s. do you wanna go to fucking prison? kiss your dreams goodbye?” jeno barked, to which haechan shook his head immediately. “then, do what the hell i said. simple as that.”

it took everything in you when you felt the gun being pressed to your head once again not to cry, but you didn’t want to show jeno any signs of weakness. he didn’t care if you sobbed and if anything, it probably got him off even more. sickly enough.

jeno kicked you with his foot, and you bit back a groan of pain. “fuck are you waiting for? get on with it.”

you obeyed, reaching for his pants and pulling them down his ankles. his underwear followed. you didn’t move with intention, heart racing so fast to the point where you hardly felt alive, detached from your body and only physically present. the fear born in you controlled your every move.

jeno was already half-hard, and you mindlessly pumped his dick, him going fully stiff in your palms before you knew it. you latched your lips onto him, drawing him into your mouth. you were at least grateful that he had left you with some control, in spite of the gun haechan was holding to the side of your head. you recalled the many times within the span of the past few weeks where he had given your mouth a rough fucking - stressed from practice and all those sorts of things and letting it out on you - until your throat had gone sore and you could do nothing but croak hoarsely when he fucked you full only moments after. at least for now, the pace was somewhat yours.

or not.

you went too slow. you didn’t mean to tease, but jeno surely took it as such. jeno grabbed the gun from haechan and pointed it at your temple himself, then very quickly pulled the trigger. when you heard the click, you prepared to meet your end, the frightened tears finally streaming warmly down your cheeks as the thought of freedom rolled into your brain. but nothing came, and when you glanced up at jeno, teary-eyed, his cock twitched in your mouth.

“that’s what happens when you tease,” jeno said, a wicked grin on his lips, and he handed the revolver back to haechan. “only one of the chambers is loaded. fuck around and find out which one is.”

you didn’t want to do that, and so you upped your pace, trying your hardest to satisfy him. he tipped his head back, roughly yanking for a fistful of your hair and forcing your mouth deeper down his shaft.

when he opened his eyes back, he laughed. not at you, but at haechan, the one who tried to hurt you as little as possible. come to think of it, the only time he ever did was because of the influence of jeno, which was why his kindness was so easy to manipulate. if only jeno had never popped up when he did. you might have actually gotten away with it. instead, both you and haechan were being forced to do something you hated.

“haechan, your hands are shaking like crazy,” jeno remarked teasingly. then, he looked at you and mocked, “you better pray your baby doesn’t fuck around and kill you.”

it was that day you began to accept that you would never know freedom again.

jeno wanted to be sure you knew it, though, just so that you would never forget and in case you needed the rough reminder. and also because he simply loved the look on your face as all the hope was drained from it, and you realized once more that your fate lied in their hands.

once jeno found out about you and haechan’s backyard escapades, he forbid haechan from ever taking you back outside, allegedly because being out there was giving you ideas. and it was, but they ultimately always fell through, obviously, and most of them were too stupid to even dare be attempted.

on occasions where he was feeling extremely cruel, he would fuck you with the news channel playing in the background, forcing you to listen to the news anchor talk about your disappearance and how they were, fortunately enough, still searching for you, though the police had little leads. he would taunt, “soon, they’ll give up and stop looking. no one’s going to save you, whore.”

and that broke you like nothing else had. it stung to think that this was what had become of your life ever so suddenly, in the blink of an eye. this was the lifestyle that you were being forced to adapt to, one where you felt more like a pet than a person. a doll than anything even breathing and alive.

then, weeks became months, and you were beginning to see your captors in a different light. perhaps it was the lack of vitamin D and other human interactions getting to your head, but there came the realization that they were attractive. you had simply been too blinded by hatred to accept it. though now, you were becoming attracted to them.

soon, you began snooping around. usually they kept you barricaded upstairs (they took preliminary measures to ensure you couldn’t escape, locking the windows and doors and such.) so when you were certain that both of them were in class, you left your room and ventured into one of theirs. it was haechan’s that you entered, you realized sooner than later. the pictures of him and some of his friends or family on the walls, his gaming chair and console very telling. you ignored the box of tissues on his desk, glancing around elsewhere. it wasn’t tidy or messy, but you got the undying urge to clean, and that you did. in all honesty, you had nothing better to do.

then, you went to jeno’s. his room was clean, surprisingly so, though also terribly bare. the only pictures he had were ones taken after his teams had won games and he was holding the trophy. he had a case busting at the seams with trophies from the endless amount of achievements he had made in his lifetime. to you, that part made sense.

“fuck are you doing?”

you jumped, startled. though you weren’t surprised when you turned around and saw jeno standing at the door frame. scratch your bedroom being cursed - if they all weren’t, then he definitely just knew how to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. 3 times was certainly not a coincidence.

in an instant, you replied, “i wasn’t messing with anything, i swear-”

jeno burst into laughter. he liked it too much that you were afraid of him. all of the fear that flooded you in moments upon noticing his presence was what he lived for.

“were you gonna clean up my room, too?” jeno asked teasingly, stepping forward. for once, he didn’t seem mad. not that you had done anything to merit his anger - yet. so you only stood there, hoping he wouldn’t switch up. “like some fucking maid or something?”

gulping, you stammered, “i thought you were in class.”

“yeah, it got canceled last-minute,” he shrugged, now at your side and playing with your hair. something about his presence was constricting. you held your breath, unable to ignore that he was there almost whenever he stood in the same room as you. “we can do something better though, right?”

at the same time, you were so used to him lashing out and punishing you whenever he caught you doing something that this was too unfamiliar and didn’t feel right. sure, he was still mean enough to mock you, but jeno never played with your hair; he played with you. it was something haechan had gotten accustomed to, the more unshocking person. jeno’s every move aroused suspicion in you.

jeno pulled your hair a little roughly - reminding you that you forgot to respond - and asked again, more firmly, “right?”

and there it was.

“right,” you answered swiftly.

“knees.”

so down on your knees you went. you unfastened his belt and pulled down his clothes, and stroked him stiff. it was a well-practiced routine, though the difference now was that you seemed to suck him with greed, taking him in your mouth as if you hadn’t eaten in days (and as cruel as jeno could be, he never starved you). which did not go unnoticed by the man you knelt before.

“just like that. keep it up and maybe i’ll reward that stupid cunt of yours.”

and you hated that that excited you. you were only glad that he wasn’t inside of you, because he would have felt you tightening around his dick if he was being needy, or his fingers if he was being nice.

much like haechan, jeno also had obvious signs of being close to the edge. when you were giving him head, he liked to grip your hair and take matters into his own hands, quite literally, guiding your way around his cock until he came. nothing had changed today. he was groaning, pulling you down further down. he didn’t care if you gagged, either. it was none of his concern if you couldn’t breathe. he had one goal and that was to use your mouth for his pleasure.

and he liked to see you swallow. so, when he came, that was what you did, but some of his cum streamed down your chin and dripped onto the floor in a tiny puddle.

you tried to stand, but jeno pulled back down. you glanced at him, confused, but he only shot you an expecting look. “where do you think you’re going? you have a mess to clean.”

your eyes flickered a couple of times, and then you realized he meant the puddle. “i can go get some napkins,” you said, trying to stand again.

jeno didn’t allow it, pulling you again, and with a fistful of your hair in his clutch, he lowered your head down to the floor, ordering sharply. “clean. it.”

after you blinked a couple of times, that was when you realized what he meant. and the more you waited around, the more violent he got, lifting your head and slamming it back down, just above the floor to give you a scare. so you did as told, licking the puddle away with your tongue. easily one of the most shameful things you’ve done.

you didn’t realize he was recording until you were finally able to lift your head up, and saw his camera pointed in your face. “haechan’s gonna lose his fucking mind,” jeno chuckled. “should we give him a show?”

#tw: noncon #tw: gun use #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #lee haechan smut #haechan smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #revehae fics

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taegimood · 11 months ago

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Chubby small chest reader x soobin or huening kai 🤭 (I never see people write about chubby girls with small tits smh)

EEEEEE i have small bewbs too and i feel like most writers always imply bigger ones so i like this ask 🤧 i also answered an ask for chubby reader x soobin here for more in-depth details and there’s a small one with taehyun on my masterlist too if you wanna read those, but small boobs weren’t involved so let’s think on this 👀

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firstly, soobin: as bunnie said in my inbox a few days ago.. if there’s boob there’s soob 🫡 soobin is a simple man.. he sees titties and it’s instant heart eyes (and instant tent in his pants) so when you guys get intimate for the first time, your insecurity is quickly squashed by the fact that he’s looking at you as though you were sent straight from heaven. his eyes are instantly roaming every curve and dip of your body, lips slightly parted, hands reaching out with questioning eyes that ask for permission to touch — when you shyly nod, he’s instantly tracing over every inch of you, softly squeezing your curves, your tits, everything he can get his hands on.

you’d already assumed that soobin was a boob guy, so you feel awkward when you quietly mumble “sorry they’re kinda small..” but soobin’s head is shooting up so fast to look at you, shaking it back and forth profusely as he assures you “no, no, no! baby, you’re.. you’re so beautiful.” he’s almost breathless, and your confidence swells at the nearly fucked out look he already has on his face when you’ve barely even done anything yet. your tits are in his mouth constantly after that (if they’re not too busy being massaged under his huge, warm hands). the sex is so good, so passionate, full of his praises for your body — your supple curves and rolls that drive him crazy, your small tits that ignite his size kink even more when he can completely cover them with his giant hands alone. soob is just so obsessed w you.. can never get enough after this 🤧

kai 🥺 i’ll go more in depth here since i haven’t written him with chubby reader yet <3 this boy would literally worship you. you’re complaining to your weeb boyfriend that you don’t have anime boobs and he’s just like no !!! all boobs can be anime boobs !!! sitting there expectantly as he waits for you to take off your shirt lmao. he looks like an excited puppy as he simultaneously massages your thick thighs with his hands — oh, does he love your thighs. so squishy and soft and perfect for resting his head on (or between, he hopes). when you finally undress yourself he literally GROANS as if this is the best thing he’s ever seen in his life, and he’s convinced that it is as you let him immediately busy his lips all over your body. mumbling “you’re seriously so perfect,” against your chest as you giggle shyly, which quickly turns into a small moan as he gropes your tits into his big hands, sucking and nibbling at your nipples. like soobin, you can tell that he’s enamored with the size difference. his eyes are fixated as he murmurs — nearly whimpers — “so cute,” before lifting his gaze to yours. “you’re just so cute, babe. so pretty.” you can tell there’s another kind of eagerness behind his words, confirmed as he whispers with red dusting his cheeks,,, “please sit on my face.” the shiver that runs straight through your body and down to your core is obvious, as is the warmth flooding your cheeks as you shake your head vigorously. “hyuka, i- you can’t, i’ll crush you.” your voice quiets at the last part as you avoid his eyes but he’s SO quick to pepper you in assurances, begging for it, promising to make you feel so good — and you’re so glad that you finally agreed. we all know that i’m a top member of the kai face sitting club, and when i tell you he’d absolutely ravish you, i mean it. he’d be SOOOO turned on by your thick thighs caging in his head, alternating between squeezing them and squeezing your ass, one hand traveling up to caress your squishy tummy before groping at your little tits, moaning into your cunt as he encourages you to put your full weight on him and ride his face <3 his cock is straining hard against his sweatpants to the point where he’s whining, bucking his hips into the air, squeezing at your thighs and your hip dips, the feeling of your curves squishing between his hand nearly enough to make him cum in his pants as he massages your cute tits one after the other. the way he fucks you in missionary mating press after that — making sure he has full access to your boobs — has your tongue lolling and your legs shaking. kai is so down bad for you 🤧

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applesandbannas747 · 5 months ago

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i wanna hear your thoughts on the fence challengers: long shot preview pages if you want to share!

oh mAN I have so many and they are all over the place!!

The first one is a little thing, but I bet Seiji had a crush on Marcus Washington when he was a kid--Nick's horror, Harvard's teasing, and Seiji's indignant blush imply as much.

And a fun fact, Jo posted a mini preview of baby Seiji to Patreon on February 14th...maybe I'm reading into it too much, but that's nothing new XD

Next couple of things are about the scene with the trophy case. It was really interesting and fun to see side-by-side redraws of Robert! It really illustrates the way the style has evolved, and also I gOTTA say it feels like Jo is more invested in Robert based on the level of detail she put in--like it's not just a style comparison, it's also just obvious a lot of attention was put into these shots when a) she could have just reused old shots (which she's done before, so I know it was an option), or kept it more simplified like she did when drawing the original shots.

I also think it's sweet that the redraws have Robert looking much more like Jesse than the originals.

And I am sure I will get flack for this, but I have incredible second-hand embarrassment from Nick leaving his newspaper clipping + note in the trophy case jfhdasl like bestieee noooo anyone can see that shit now oh my god please stooop

Onto some Nichoji thoughts! I love that Seiji's been confirmed as a before-bed reader! Him having a Kindle makes sense for the sheer efficiency of it too lmfao. Of course it's also adorable to see him in reading glasses <3 And then my favorite detail is Nick's stupid nightlight...notice where it is?

Rather than illuminating Nick's side of the room, it's peeking around the curtain and lighting up Seiji's reading, which is beyond adorable and sweet. I wonder whether Seiji stole it or Nick put it there knowing Seiji likes to read before bed, and I love both scenarios.

Also, it's fucking adorable that as soon as Nick mentions their date appointment, Seiji takes off his glasses and lowers his Kindle because it's got his full attention and investment.

And a quick pitstop to the locker rooms!

I like the visual metaphor here with Aiden and Bobby both very casual about changing and both literally having their shirts open; meanwhile, Seiji's straightening the cuffs on his button-down, which is already neatly tucked in and complete with his tie. It just highlights how Seiji's a lot more closed off than the others, and I think this was a neat trick to remind us of that.

In regards to plot, I'm still...really disappointed in the pacing. I know most people feel like it's a slowburn/it's taken a long time to develop, but if you waited to read Fence at all until it was complete and then read it all in one sitting, I think you'd see how unbalanced it is. Williams says that their first match will be in three weeks back right after tryouts:

which means everything between issue 12 and CHALLENGERS has happened in 3 weeks. Seiji and Nick's relationship is so sweet and cute, but it went from resentful rivalry to puppy love overnight with very little 'screen time' dedicated to the actual transition from resentment to friends (which I could write a whole essay on but this is not the post for that lmfao). Furthermore, the fact that it's the first match of State Championships rather than first match of the season is crazy to me. I'll admit, I didn't fence in high school--it wasn't even an option because we didn't have a team. And despite hours of research, the structure of high school team fencing is not entirely clear to me. However, I do know that typical high school sports go through the season, facing every other team in their division or whatever. Based on performance in those matches, they can qualify for state, and then their win ratio determines their seeding order for the state championships that happen in like 1-2 days. Seeding order is who you go up against in a bracket, so it's what this diagram is, basically:

(side note, but it appears there are 24 schools competing at state). Again, fencing could be different, but it kinda seems to me like we skipped over the season and went right to State Championships, which just cuts out so much development and build-up. It's like we're speed-running the entire story to get to the end faster. We cut out showing the development in the romance, and now we're cutting out the development of the plot. There's still plenty that we can do at state, of course, but imagine how much more it would mean to see Nick fencing in front of Robert if we'd built that up more. I just don't understand how we spent 12 issues on try outs, 4 on a practice match, 8 on camp, and none on the fencing season. It feels so abrupt and unbalanced. Tryouts and camp were my favorites arcs because they felt pretty well-paced as self-contained pieces of the story. I just feel like we needed waaaaay more relationship development between those two arcs to be satisfying, and I feel like there should be waaaaay more build up during the fencing season between camp and State Championships.

and now, the moment you've all been waiting for: my devastation over Eugene's role (???) in the story. I honestly question why he's in the story at all--at this point, it would have made more sense to have him flat-out not make the team. Except that keeping him this long lowkey backs up the theory I've had on his role since Striking Distance/RIVALS: Eugene is here to make everyone else look better/cooler/more impressive. The very first thing that struck me when reading the first look was this:

The dialogue here suggests that only one reserve actually gets to be on the team in the end, and the reserve is Nick. And, worse, everyone expected it to be Nick. Sure, it's sweet that Seiji thinks Nick's the better fencer, but all I can think about is how hard Eugene's worked for ten years trying to make the team as opposed to Nick's three months of fencing. Now, I love an underdog story. But it's interesting because Pacat stated in an interview (I'd have to go find where for the specific quote) that he always feels bad for the person who's been working to be #1 their whole lives only to be knocked out of the running by an upstart underdog--which I've always assumed would influence the path taken in Fence...and it seems like we may well let Seiji and Jesse remain above Nick in skill (or at least it seems like we won't be dethroning Seiji, even if we go for Jesse), but Nick's overcoming smaller obstacles. And those smaller obstacles hurt worse to see crushed because Eugene almost made the team in a way that mattered, only to have that taken away. It would have been less cruel to him and his fans to let Nick take the reserve slot back in issue 12, but instead we brought Eugene along to serve as a means to make Nick out 'secret weapon' and elevate his story.

I will say though, this page is one of my favorite Eugene moments because I see the character I selfishly want Eugene to be in it. From the context of the panels above, this page is likely Williams telling them that only one will be fencing in State Championships, and this is their reaction. Eugene's immediate concern for Nick and the comforting hand on his shoulder followed by a bright smile and a thumbs up--he just cares so much about other people and it so used to smiling through his own pain/disappointment and comforts Nick through being positive (and as seen back in issue 12, up playing his competitiveness) and acting like it's no big deal.

Eugene deserved better, but if this is where he goes out, I think I can live with it. Better to see him go now than continue to be a means to uplift the rest of team by being less than. but, man, I was really hoping we were turning it around after his moment in REDEMPTION being the only KR boy not to lose his bout

anyway, thank you sm for listening to my rambles!!! <33

#jackshit #fence comic #fence challengers long shot #fence challengers #seiji katayama #nicholas cox #eugene labao #fencessay #thanks for the ask!! 💜#fence asks #eugene defense squad #to be clear; there are a lot of things I'm excited for--ill just never get over how much better it could have been if the stars had aligned #and fence could have been picked up for its full run and given all the development and attention i have to assume was the original intent

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