#is this a tad ooc? who gives a fuck

[ashgunnywolf]

Being a freak of nature is hard. Being the freak of nature spawn of two other freaks of nature is harder. Being the manifestation of the trauma of the two biggest fucking idiots on the planet is downright unbearable. Being stuck in a damned thermos for fucking YEARS? Torture.

It's only natural to want to burn all of existence to the ground. To make everyone else hurt exactly as much as he does. Who cares about the universe? No one who lives there ever loved him. Not all of him. Not the ugly parts.

And there's nothing left of him but ugly parts.

Danny, fool that he is, couldn't bear the vision of what he could become, so he quite literally bottled him up and ripped him out of reality and asked the undead god of time to pretty please keep this awful thing on your shelf where I don't have to look at it.

He couldn't even sleep in the thermos. Did time even pass outside the insulated metal walls of the thermos, in the halls of Clockwork's lair? It felt like eternity. Existing without sensation, drifting in limbo, unable to even move... Surely this was hell. What he deserved.

And when confronted with that wicked thermos again, all the oceans of anger and rage and hatred parted, and everyone could see what he really was.

Lonely. And scared.

He didn't want to be alone again.

He wasn't a version of Danny that was driven to madness. He was a Vlad who refused to accept that he was all alone, and he was a Danny who couldn't bear the reality of how alone he really was.

And more than that, he was that kindred energy drawn together into one being.

How dare others have families? How could anyone even think to feel things like joy and comfort when he was so alone? Didn't anyone CARE?!

And then this reality's Vlad gave him a body. He looked like Danny again. He was human again, something that can eat and sleep and shit.

When he was pulled from the stasis tank and given a towel to wipe the slime off his skin - he had SKIN again, real human skin with blood vessels and a pleasant pinkish hue instead of undead grey - Vlad called him Daniel.

"How do you feel, Daniel?"

He winced despite himself.

"What is it?"

"I... I don't know what to call myself," he admitted. "I AM Danny, but you know as well as I that half of me is you."

Vlad furrowed his brow. "I see." He sat in silence for a moment, then asked, "Would you like to choose a name? It doesn't have to be right now."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

Vlad placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can't imagine what you feel right now. You've been through so much..."

He wrapped his arms around himself, and it struck him how natural it felt to be so small again. "You know some of it. You lived it, to a point."

"Right." Vlad slouched, looking away. "Driven by what I thought was vengeance. But all along, I was just afraid of accepting the truth. That I was alone."

He interjected, "So was Danny. He was driven to cleaving himself in two because he couldn't bear the loneliness either."

He continued, "The two of you are more alike than you realize. Not only because you're both half-ghost. You're two of a kind. Why else would the worst parts of the two of you fuse so seamlessly... into this?" He gestured at himself. "Selfish, petty, vindictive... lonely..."

Vlad took the towel and ruffled it over his soaked hair. "I wanted Daniel to be my son. Not just to punish Jack. I truly wanted him by my side."

He chuckled. "I remember." He drummed his fingers on his knee, feeling the bones vibrate under his flesh from the gentle impact.

"If it's any consolation, he wanted you in his own way." He shrugged. "I can't speak to how he feels about you now, after everything that's happened..."

"That's alright."

"...but if I were to guess, I'd say part of him is still drawn to you."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

He was about to reply when his stomach gurgled. His eyebrows shot upward and he clutched his gut. "I'm... hungry."

A small smile crept onto Vlad's face. "So you are. What would you like to eat?"

He looked down at his feet and thought about it. "I don't know. What would you eat?"

"I was planning to have lobster with bechamel and a side of asparagus."

He nodded slowly. "That sounds good."

Vlad laughed. "Better than Daniel's usual diet of Nasty Burger, right?"

He snarled, baring his teeth - flat human teeth, not his fangs, so some of the bite was lost.

"Not a fan of Nasty Burger? Neither am I."

He glared at Vlad. "I do NOT want to talk about that."

Vlad held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

Lunch... was nice. He hadn't realized how much he missed eating. Properly eating, not just tearing people's flesh with his teeth.

Vlad kept looking up at him from across the table and smiling. He tried hiding it from him, only doing it when he thought he wasn't looking, but it was obvious.

He didn't hold it against the man. He enjoyed the company, too. It was nice to not be alone anymore.

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[reverseexorcist]

♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

You couldn't not give me Carmilla fucking Carmine and expect me not to go feral over her-

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,479 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, these are kind've all over the place, Carmilla might be a tad OOC since this is my first time writing her

➲ There are so many different ways this relationship could possibly start. The mind boggles trying to think of all of them. Just think of all the potential shenanigans that could occur and have fun with that

➲ But lemme just say before anything - This woman is fiercely protective over you. Not in the cutesy, clingy kind've obsessive way, but the silently scary scary-dog privilege kind've partner. The epitome of 'excuse me sir, they asked for no pickles', and, because I love this trope, you are the only person (besides her daughters) that she will ever fully be soft for.

➲ Insert 🥺 right here

➲ Just, get you a woman who looks at you the way Carmilla looks at her wife. That's all I can say

➲ The soft moments in the morning when you can just lay in bed and watch her get ready. Pulling her hair up into her signature, gravity defying buns(?) and delicately slip on and twine her angelic steel shoes. The minutes of her fingers expertly working away in a comfortable silence as you just lay under the comfort of your warm blankets? Those are the moments right there 👌

➲ Probably not one for physical affection, at least not in public. Definitely not in public. Her reputation alone would probably put you in danger, which is, y'know, not good, so no hand-holding in public

➲ (Honestly, one part of her probably prefers not to be seen with you in public for that exact reason. The other part wants to keep you in her line of sight at all times because at least then she can personally keep you safe)

➲ All of that being said, can't deny she'd probably give top tier hugs. Proper bear hugs because this woman is tall and strong and would undeniably make you feel safe whenever you're in her arms. Depending on how tall or short you are, she could also probably pick you up if you really wanted 👉👈

➲ (She could 100% pick you up, and probably with one hand as well)

➲ Gives the most tender of little kisses. Small pecks on the cheeks and forehead whenever she's tired from work, her larger fingers gently grazing the sides of your head as her fluffy hair tickles your face

➲ And the adorable little pet names she whispers to you! Maybe you're just passing by each other in an almost empty street or just relaxing at home together, but she'll always try and take the chance to whisper something like 'mi Vida', 'mi Corazón' or 'mi Reina' just loud enough for the two of you to hear

➲ Let's be real, this woman is really goddamn tall, so you're probably shorter than her and she absolutely loves it and would absolutely tell this to your face just to fluster you. What she loves even more is the way you'd have to reach up on your tippy toes with her leaning down to meet you halfway just to have you playfully kiss her on the tip of her nose or her chin

➲ Maybe, very rarely, if she's feeling extra sentimental, she'd love it if you sat on her lap while she works in her home office, just so she can have your comfort and warmth nearby. More often than not this scenario would end up with you falling asleep in her lap and her carrying you back to bed with the smallest of smiles on her face

➲ If she could really help it, she'd prefer to keep you as far away from her work as possible. As much as she would love to have you in the office, maybe helping her with paperwork or something similar so she could have you at within her reach at all times of the day, arms dealing is a dangerous job. At least her daughter's have each other's backs' when they're out doing business, but you'd probably have to make it on your own or with one of her other employees and that's a big no no in her eyes

➲ Also, speaking of her daughters, your relationship with them would vary wildly depending on when you met them

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when Clara and Odette were rather young, they'd probably cling on to you like a second mother figure. In some cases, they might've even preferred you over Carmilla for the sole fact that their toddler puppy eyes work on you better than their biological mother

➲ Your dynamic would probably just be the three of you racing to see who could give Carmilla a hug first after she gets home from work

➲ (Though, this only works if Carmilla is hell-born seeing as sinner's can't have children)

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when they were older though, there might be a bit of a tense air when you first meet. Carmilla's protectiveness isn't just one way - Her daughters absolutely adore her, and although they definitely couldn't protect her physically, they'd do their damn best to protect her emotionally

➲ They'd warm up to you after some time though, seeing you do truly love their mother with your whole heart. You'd never be a parent to them, barely even a step-parent, but they'd respect you and care for you like family nonetheless because you make their mother happy

➲ Either way, her heart melts seeing the three of you getting alone, and she 100% has a family picture she keeps on her desk for her eyes only

➲ Sometimes she just waits until you fall asleep so she can cradle your head in her heads oh so carefully. She just sort've stares at you, her eyes glowing in the dark with her wild mane of hair spilling out behind her, and she just traces all the intricate details of your face with her eyes

➲ And then she just sort've hugs you closer to her, tugging the blankets a little tighter around the two of you as she presses the littlest of kisses to your forehead before relaxing into the pillows

➲ But just imagine Carmilla with a wife who died so much later after her. Just this tall, scary and proper woman that strikes fear into the hearts of millions with her little gremlin wife who keep talking about shit like reddit that the other sinners just don't understand (not even Carmilla herself, but she finds your antics somewhat entertaining, at least when she doesn't have to act as your self preservation instincts and keep you safe)

➲ Extermination is your least favourite day for multiple reasons

➲ The first being, well, the exorcists descending form heaven to brutally murder sinners left and right, but also because Carmilla changes around this time

➲ It's understandable, especially with what happened in one of the previous exterminations when she and her daughters got caught, but it still scares you to see you usually cool, calm and loving wife turn into a robot who's only goal is to get you and her daughters to a safehouse to wait out the terror outside

➲ Doesn't mean you're not grateful, though. You can look past all of that because you know she's just doing it to keep you safe, and in the end you'd rather be safe and living with your family rather than dead on the end of an exorcist's spear

➲ You probably also have a good relationship with the other overlords, despite never having gone to a meeting

➲ (It's because of this you've never met Velvette or the other Vee's, and if Carmilla has a say, you never will)

➲ Rosie, being the social butterfly she is, loves to talk gossip with you every chance she gets. Zestial likes to join in on your little sessions, not saying anything but bringing tea for everyone to drink and enjoy. Clara also likes to join in sometimes, but her sister would much rather sit with her mother and just watch the chaos unfold in front of them

➲ Almost certainly has caught you trying on her shoes when she's not looking. A part of her is annoyed because she'd rather not have you involved in anything to do with her work, but the innocent look you give her makes her rethink her annoyance in the moment

➲ She'd later found out Clara helped you because you also wanted to try and walk around on pointe like the rest of the family. No idea why you skipped straight to trying the angelic weapon shoes, but Carmilla does offer to help you later

➲ Overall, great wife and I'd give her a 9/10. One point deducted probably because she'd be a tad too overprotective, but everything else about her is great; From her bear hugs to those little moments the two of you share

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[one-fin-wonder]

Requested Headcanon: The Moon Boys Being Protective When You Get Catcalled

A/N: Again, I think this was a tad OOC, but I love what I wrote for Jake sooooo here. BTW: this was requested by a best friend so bestie if you're seeing this: love youuuu, I hope you liked it.

Marc Spector

He would become tense and stop in his tracks as soon as he heard the words fall from the person’s mouth

“What did you say?” He would instantly become defensive for you

“No I want to hear what you had to say to them? Not so cocky now huh?”

He’d put his arm around you in a protective stance as he glares at the person who had the audacity to catcall you

If the person persists with phrases such as “If they didn’t want attention they shouldn’t have dressed like that.” or “what? It’s just a compliment.” Marc would get too upset and Steven or Jake would have to take over

Steven Grant

Steven would look at you making sure you’re okay before he confronts the jerk who called out to you

He would squeeze your hand gently with a small nod as he turns to the person 

“Oye! Learn some respect you fucking doughnut!” he’d continue trying to comfort you gently as he yells at the person

“You need to be taught manners, mate.” he’d turn away holding you close as he tries to calm you down 

“I’m so sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to hear that.” He’d walk you away from the jerk and he’d put an arm around you gently 

“How about *Insert favorite treat here*, huh?” He’d try to bring up the mood and turn this into a positive for you

Jake Lockley 

He would be as tense as a brick wall

“¡CÁLLATE MADRE BARATA DE PUTA!” (“Shut up you cheap mother fucker”) He’d practically throw himself towards this dude like a rabid animal

He would crack his knuckles “está bien querida, yo me encargaré de esto,” (“It's alright dear, I'll take care of this,”) he’d mutter as he stands in front of the now terrified dude

“Wait in the car,” Ah yes his famous car. He’d try his best to make you feel safe whenever you were in it. A safe haven if you will. 

He wouldn’t hold back his wrath. That’s all I’ll say about the hell he will give the person who dared to catcall his beloved. 

He’d come back to the car taking his gloves off carefully and putting them in his pocket, “¿Estás bien? Ya no te molestarán.” (“Are you okay? They won’t bother you anymore.”)

He’d hold you close, placing a kiss on your forehead gently, 

Once he knew you were okay he’d squeeze your hand gently “Let’s go home, yeah?”

[kaedehararchives]

AITA FOR BEING COLD TO A STRANGER FOR BEING WEIRD BUT THEY ENDED UP BEING THE GIRL I LIKED FROM MY CHILDHOOD ??? FT. SCARAMOUCHE ! cw: informal writing, ooc, modern au, plotless ?, crackpost, use of kys/kms jokes, ip address leak (NOT REAL!!! i dont condone this in real life. i think it's kind of in character for scaramouche) note: i think scaramouche using reddit for advice is funny. i might use this for a diff character. i didn't really have a plan for this one

scaramouche isn't the type of person to ask for advice. so why is he on the infamous site, reddit? well, he doesn't want to ask people knowing that he has weaknesses so obviously, he's here.

r/thehatguy aita for treating someone for being weird? i know how that title sounds but bear with me. i (M17) come from a predominantly rich family that is known internationally. when this person (GN17) came up to me, being all weird, acting like i know them. i was thinking that they were going to use me for connections / money / fame / etc. i didn't want that to slide obviously so i told them (dis)respectfully to fuck off. despite, my warning messages, they kept persistently to be friendly with me. in my personal opinion, i hate clingy people especially when we first met.

i tried my best to be civil with them and ignore / avoid them and their super weird-clingy-cringe advances. but she KEEPS thinking we know each other from somewhere. it's getting annoying... and frankly, i did get a tad angry with her and

after typing up a post, he already had gotten a few responses.

replies: detectivelover69 nta they prob deserved it thehatguy [OP] thats what im saying

thank god someone agrees with me. until he kept scrolling.

hydronarwhal idk why would u be weird to someone js because they want to be friends with you thehatguy [OP] why wouldn't u be mean to someone who keeps trying to be friends with u hydronarwhal dude i think you have some issues thehatguy [OP] did u read it right? read it again for me hydronarwhal just because ur rich doesnt mean they want ur money bro thehatguy [OP] 192.1xx.x.xx

after this conversation with this guy "hydronarwhal", he had enough of this. clearly, that guy is sick in the head. blocking the account from seeing his post, he went to sleep. well, he will check the comment section after he had a well-rested night.

one more won't hurt.

bobaya nah thats weird. i get you on that using people for connections thehatguy [OP] finally, thank you beetlefighter101 wait ur weird asf for leaking someone's ip address thehatguy [OP] that's just the celluar data tower they're using beetlefighter101 what do they use thehatguy [OP] t-mobile hydrowhales0612 can u not?

---

is he an idiot for leaving his notifications on for every app? yes. he is because why did his post that he was sure no one would really see due to the flood of aita posts, get l

[notification: reddit +1] adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story?

adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story? thehatguy [OP] duh... why wouldnt i?

r/thehatguy aita for treating someone for being weird (two updates)

[writingsbymo-mo]

Debt Repaid

Bonten!Sanzu x F!Reader

Rating: mature

Contains: past abuse, abusive parents (past), violence, guns, blood, minor character death, depression, some comfort, some angst

Summary: You recently got fired from one of your jobs, you're short on rent, and now you're being kicked out? What the hell went wrong? Or, what the hell went right?

Note: reader is addressed with she/her pronouns when being referred to...and Sanzu might be a tad ooc at times 😅

Hope you enjoy 💕 @shoyo-ryoko

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*knock* *knock* *knock*

"Hey 207, you better pay up, or you'll be kicked by the end of the week!" Your landlord screamed from behind the door to your apartment.

With a shaky breath, you opened the door, attempting to conceal the tremnling in your body and voice. "I-I'm sorry sir...but I'm a hundred short..." You flinched as he slammed his fist against the doorframe. "Goddamn it. You fucking can't even get that much? Stupid bitch, I even delayed your payment a week!"

You shrank in on yourself, looking at the floor as tears spilled from your eyes. You couldn't help that you got fired from your better paying job. All those customer interactions spiraled into episodes of dread that engulfed your entire being, wanting nothing more than to escape. They'd sneer at your failures, your weaknesses, or at least that's what your mind perceived. And one day, you just couldn't take it anymore.

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You stayed in your apartment, never leaving your bed unless the bathroom was calling you. You couldn't bring yourself to eat either. The churning hunger pains brought nausea upon you. A day later, you heard a knock on your door. You stared over to the window by the entrance with your eyes cracked, silently pleading for whomever was there would give up and leave. You didn't want anyone to see you like this.

"Please...go away..." You croaked.

The door unlocked and slammed open. You covered your eyes, blinded by the rays from the afternoon sun. "Ah—"

"Princess?"

You knew that voice. "H-Haru..."

The floor creaked as he made his way to your room, kneeling down beside your bed. He grasped your hands, pulling them away from your face. "W-wait Haru!" But you had no strength to stop him. He sighed the moment he saw your bloodshot eyes and dark circles surrounding them. You weren't sleeping well if at all some days.

You squeezed your eyes shut, body trembling in his soft grasp. "Please...don't look at me..." Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes once more. The dread of him seeing you at your lowest hit you like a ton of bricks. You wanted to run away right then. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"Shhh, it's alright, darling," he leaned down, tenderly kissing your hot tears away. "Just breathe with me." And you did. Deep inhales and exhales, shaky to smooth as you relaxed under his touch. He removed your covers and slid his hands underneath you, picking you up with ease. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I'll get us some cheesecake."

"O-ok."

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"I'm sick of your shit 207. Can't make even another hundred more in a week? Ha! Better not see your ass here in the morning, you pathetic piece of shit. Oh, and all your things left behind are now mine. Think of it as paying me for what you owe, ha-haaaa!"

The disgusting laugh of his tapered off as you slid against the door. "W-where did I go wrong....why am I like this?"

Where would you go? You were kicked out of the house the day you started dating Haru all those years ago. Your parents couldn't believe their precious daughter would date a delinquent, let alone one who had a record like his.

Your parents were gone for the weekend or that's what they told you anyway. You stayed out all night with Haruchiyo, traveling the streets of Tokyo on his bike and having the time of your lives. Any day like this could beat when you had to be the perfect daughter day in and day out.

You have to be number one! If you don't, you'll be sorry.

The nonstop pressure, the amount of times they'd punish you for a wrong answer, the times they wouldn't even bother addressing you whenever your grades kept falling. All they cared about was your abilities to do well in school.

They never bothered asking how you were doing, Haru did.

They never bothered to spend time with you, Haru did.

They never even knew you were dating until you were caught by some people your dad worked with....didn't help with all the hickeys on your collarbone that peeked from under your shirt.

"How dare you! HOW DARE YOU RUIN THIS FAMILY!"

*SLAP*

You collapsed on the ground from the impact, touching your angry red, stinging cheek.

"Fucking a delinquent? Have you gone MAD?!! Swear if my coworkers hadn't caught you sleazing around with that...that—"

"But dad I—"

"SHUT IT! You're no daughter of mine...not anymore..."

"W-wait...dad no...NO!" You screamed, bawling with tears falling from your eyes. He yanked you by the back of your shirt collar, dragging you towards the front door with ease. "If you want to be a delinquent's girlfriend, then fine! I'll just treat you like you are, trash!" He threw you out the door. Your back collided against the concrete wall so hard you coughed out a pained gasp upon impact. "Don't ever think to show your face here again!" He growled and slammed the door shut.

You didn't know what to think. You didn't know what to say about this. All you were was a shell of pain. You brought your knees into yourself, burying your face into them as you continued to let the tears fall. "H-Haru..."

The front door opened so quietly that you didn't even hear it over the noise in your mind. You looked up the moment a hand tapped your shoulder. There stood your mother, eyes bloodshot with tears. She sniffed, "I'm sorry...take this." She handed you a suitcase full of your clothes, necessities, and some of your other things along with a stack of cash. "It's not much, but it's the least I could do. Take care of yourself, ok?"

That was the last time you ever saw them. And for once in your life, you were happy...for a little while. When Haruchiyo found out about you being kicked out, he was pissed. He would've stormed over there to kill your parents if you hadn't held him so tightly, pleading for him to stop. You were one of the very few people he held dearly to him and the few he would listen to. He did make the offer for you to stay with him, however, you were already moving into an apartment. On your low days, you wondered how different it would've been to live with him instead.

Much changed over time. You dropped out of school and took on a few jobs to pay rent. You were still dating Haruchiyo, however it was getting harder to see him within the last few years. He mentioned something about being in a top position and taking trips more frequently. You were thankful for all the times he'd helped you through the tears, your ups and downs, the times you couldn't lift a finger. No matter, he would always help you whenever he could.

And now, you were on the run again. You packed as much as you could and left your old apartment in the middle of the night. "Fuck you, shitty landlord..." You dragged your things with you for quite a distance when it began to rain. As fast as your feet could take you, you hid under the awning of a shrine nearby. Your body shivered, completely drenched. You hid inside to change into something dry and made a place for you to sleep. "I'll call you in the morning Haru...just want to sleep..."

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*SLAM*

"WHERE IS SHE, HYUGA?!!"

"I-I swear, I-I don't know! She just turned her keys in the dropbox and left!" Hyuga, your old landlord cried, coughing up blood. He was battered and bruised, lips split and bleeding, staining his crisp white shirt. "She didn't make rent this month, I had to do something to pay it off!"

Sanzu yanked him by the collar, glaring daggers into his very soul as he was brought to his eye level. "So, you thought you could make off with selling my darling's possessions to make a quick buck? Disgusting," he growled.

Hyuga grasped at Sanzu's hands, gasping for a breath. "I-I swear I didn't know she was one of Bonten's—" He gasped for air as he was thrown against the desk. Stacks of paper scattered everywhere when a reverberating click pierced the room into silence. Sanzu held his gun pointed directly between Hyuga's brow as he ran his other hand through his pink locks with a crazed expression. "Consider your debt paid off, scum of the earth!" He laughed hysterically as shots fired into the man's skull, blood splattering the walls and desk behind him. He sighed with a smile when the work was done. He cleaned his hands and pulled out his burner phone. "Send someone to my location for a cleanup and find someone he's close to we can drop this dept on. What do you mean why did I kill him?! Ah fuck you too Koko!" *click*

"Now, where did you go, princess?"

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A couple hours later, you woke up to a set of warm arms wrapped around you with a familiar sweet musk. You cracked your eyes open. "H-Haru?"

"Shhhh, I'm taking you to my place, just rest," he whispered, smiling softly at him. You reached his towards his face, tracing the outline of his scar on the left side. "I don't want to burden you—"

"Don't! You're not a burden. You never were, princess."

You sighed, letting yourself relax in his hold, baggage and all. "You're always there to save me," you nuzzled into his chest, "please take care of me."

"I will, darling. I will."

And just like he promised, he took care of you through thick and thin. You wouldn't have asked for anything else.

[thedarkmistress16]

here's some long-awaited tony food for your thots

(im serious this is 100% PWP done in like, *check watch* 6-8 hrs or so in one sitting- it's all over the place, fam)

let me know immediately if any of you want me to community label this, if that makes you more comfortable. if you want another installment (it will have actual plot i promise) just let me know. None of the used images here are mine, they belong to their respective owners, I only own my garbage writing.

Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Experienced!Unfaithful!Reader x Jealous!Yandere!Tony Stark- Repression and Suppression

and here are some messy A03-esque tags for your reading pleasure (srsly read these before continuing or you void your reading warranty):

(Lime, Lemon, G-rape, Cheating, Physical Cheating, Unintentional Cheating, Affair, Noncon, Dubcon, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Vaginal, MxF, PWP, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Third Wheel Tony Stark, Sexual Deviant Tony Stark, Manipulation, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Teasing, Gaslighting, Sexual Coercion, Power Play? Beard Burn, The run of shame?, Lust used as a manipulation tool, Tony blatantly misunderstands words, The horny ruins lives, Reader’s never cheated in her life ong she just misses sex, Tony is all kinds of wrong here, OOC Tony Stark, His dialogue is probably OOC sorry about that, No descriptors besides gender have fun)

...

You don’t know how this happened.

…

Okay, you do know how this happened. You and Tony stumbled upon the same floor in an otherwise empty Tower and you both plopped on the same couch shooting the shit. No paperwork for you to do and no big baddie causing a commotion in New York for the Iron Man to stop. And you may have overshared a tad about the feelings you’ve been having at his prompting about your relationship status, but hey, that’s normal, even for sober people. Everyone needs to vent every once in a while. Or overshare, or both.

What you didn’t expect, however, was your totally innocent sex conversation with Tony to turn into dirty talk. Which, alright- fair, this was Tony you were talking to, so probably not your best moment.

“It’s not like he’ll find out.” Tony’s palm rests on your thigh. “And you said so yourself, he doesn’t give you what you need.”

But thankfully, that’s when your brain started working again, and you actively began to create some space between you, with his hand falling off your leg.

“No, Tony. You know who I’m with and you know he’ll be coming back.”

Tony follows you and- what the fuck? Was this couch always this small? The palm greets your thigh again, more insistent now if the pressure was any indication.

“Can you really wait that long?”

You stare at Tony, incredulous at the turn of events. He wouldn’t- would he?

You see him smile at you before diving in for a kiss.

Wide-eyed, your first reaction is to push him off, but he practically falls on top of you, keeping you pinned there as his tongue goes to work in prying your mouth open.

You struggle, and then, well, he knew how to kiss to get what he wanted, that was for sure. It was so different from what you were used to with him, all chaste and loving. Tony used the flat surface of the appendage to massage your tongue, and- holy fuck you really forgot what good kisses felt like. Tony feels so good- so warm and passionate, that his embrace sends you into a blanketed bliss.

And as you make out, that blanket grows more and more stuffy. You lose track of time, and- well, yourself. The next time you open your eyes, you’re greeted to a shirtless and more disheveled Tony Stark on top of you, kissing down your neck, and humping his bulge against you and- oh fuck your pants were gone.

Okay, this had officially gone too far. Yes, this was hot, and yes your body was awakened from the longest dry spell ever by his kisses, but you had to try and stop this. You had to get Tony to shut this shit down, and then blame your horny self later.

But first, Operation Turn off Tony.

“Wait!” Your hands fly to Tony’s chest, pushing with effort despite wanting to melt into a puddle. “I can’t- you know I can’t-”

Okay, your voice would’ve sounded commanding if Tony hadn’t run his hands under your shirt.

And if his arm wasn’t practically glued to the damn cushions you would've had more leeway to shake him off. And if he wasn’t so stron-

Wait- one arm?

…

…oh my god why is he pushing against you?

“Oh?” It comes out automatically and your body absolutely preens at the sensation before you come back down.

Oh fuck no- now two of his fingers are inside you and you’re not sure if you can even try to hold him off now.

Think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve-!

“Tony, mmn-m, pl-”

“Why refuse this?” He pauses to let his fingers talk and the resulting squelching has you trying to seal your mouth in protest. “Why refuse me? When the sweet release you want is right in front of you?” His fingers fall away. “And when this-” he rolls his denim-covered penis over your pussy, eliciting a groan from both of you, “cock is ready and begging to be inside you?”

There is no hope to quell your blushing at this point either, you unhelpfully surmise to yourself. But even so, you don’t let up, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“He’ll, ah- find out, hah, Tony.” Fucking hell it was hard to form words now, “and he w-will-”

Tony, more envious than you’ve ever seen him, snarls in retaliation. “Don’t think about him! He’s not the one who’s going to be fucking you tonight.” He takes a moment to regain his composure before adding, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel so good you can’t stand it.”

“Ton- ah!”He hit a sensitive spot inside you, and your body jolted with the feeling. “P-please...ha...” You pant, trying to control yourself as his fingers retract. Trying to think of Steve instead, and all the other reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. Why he shouldn’t be doing this to you and how he’s currently making you tingle in too many places.

In mock concern, he inquires, “what is it, baby? I’m right here...” You swear to the highest moon that Tony Stark’s teasing is the worst kind you’ve ever had to experience in your entire life; mainly because he does it in a way that pisses you off to no end.

“I- Tony, I n-need you to-” He shushes you, leaving you more baffled. He doesn’t even know your request yet and he’s already cutting you off. The playboy slides two fingers inside your wet canal and you cry out in surprise. They slip out within the next second, not allowing you to properly process the action. He languidly laps at his fingers and you actually whine at the sight, which is literally the worst reaction you could've had. Tony hums at the taste and his eyes, holding your own, gleam wickedly as you attempt to recover.

“Oh, you need me to fuck you baby? Say no more.”

You gasp, utterly scandalized. How the fuck did he interpret a nothing sentence into that? He’s already working on unzipping his jeans and you’re quick to remedy the situation, despite your breathlessness. “No, Tony, that’s not-” A hand swiftly comes down to palm your sensitive pussy and squeezes, attempting to shut you up with desire. You’re shameful when you realize his tactic worked, as you find it elicits a sexual groan from you strong enough to make your head tilt up towards the ceiling and your back arch off the couch. Tony tuts at your wanton display.

“Don’t deny it, honey. You’re absolutely dripping for cock.” He leans in close to your ear and latches his mouth onto your neck. The man nibbles and suckles enough to probably leave a mark before playfully biting your earlobe and whispering, “and I’m more than willing to provide that relief.” A small part of you finds it ironic he’d use the word willing when you haven’t vocally confirmed it in this case.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, he sits still for a minute, groaning at the feel of you. Tony then starts circling his hips, not thrusting in the slightest, and at this point you’ve had enough of his games. If he wants to do this so badly then so be it. “No teasing…” you huff unpleasantly.

“Hmm? What was that?” His member is still nudging against the ridges of your vaginal walls, causing your lower body to spasm and tighten at random intervals.

“If you’re going to fuck me then actually fuck me.” You make your voice harsh to get your impatience across, keeping your gaze even. Tony simply winks and wastes no time setting a pace inside you, smirking pleasantly as your body shifts from his thrusts. He licks his lips at the sight of your breasts bouncing underneath your shirt and impatiently forces the fabric up to your neck to squeeze at one. 

You close your eyes and furrow your brows, focusing your efforts on meeting Tony’s thrusts and tightening your pelvic muscles frequently to help his orgasm along. Judging by his strained moans, the fruits of your past lovers' labor seem to be working. He starts to shudder and you beam with pride.

Jackpot.

That is until he yanks himself out of you completely, struggling to hold himself over your body.

“Mngh, hah- baby,” he laughs in between ragged breaths, “let’s not spoil the fun too early, now…”

Tony then switches to playfully dragging his cock along the splayed seam of your lips, right over your spasming hole, and you wouldn’t have been able to hold in that unholy moan if you tried.

He flips you over without a word, leaving you disoriented with an “oof,” as he re-positions you to make your ass hang lewdly in the air. Tony swats one asscheek and your hands scramble to find purchase before he tries something else, which you seldom find in the firm material. Another mocking sound escapes his throat at your reaction and you turn your head to glare at him.

“Could have given a girl a warning, y’know?”

“Well, sweetcheeks, I can’t very well tackle this raging problem unless I approach it from all possible angles~” His eyes rove over your new position admiringly. “And this view is definitely worth the effort.”

He winks at you, smirking all the while. You refuse to react, deadpanning, before giving up. “Fuck you, Stark.”

He says some other comment you don’t care about- on the lines of having patience- when something wet wiggles across your folds-

Your eyes widen. Was this a better advantage point for him to-

His tongue thrusts itself inside your walls and you lose all sense of thought, wanting to collapse into the couch already. Tony’s firm and swift in his movements, pressing the angle of his chin into your mound harshly and rubbing your sensitive areas consistently. The stiff hairs of his beard rub themselves across your clit as he leans forward and you lose all sense of yourself, screaming into the cushioned void and spasming around his mouth.

Your hips lull into a gentle rocking, you realize, when the sensations have dulled. You can still feel Tony between your legs, but licking you much more softly now. Your satisfied mews fall out of your mouth like a gentle stream, and you let yourself bask in the well-overdue afterglow.

Tony slowly parts from your pussy with a smacking sound, and you feel saliva trailing down your thighs as you whine. You hear him say the word “ready” and you hum questionably, not in the mood for words. He leans forward to kiss up your back and make a path for your ear, reiterating himself.

“You ready for me, honey?”

“Mm, you’re not-?”

“-finished? How kind of you to offer, baby. After all, I haven’t finished fucking you into forgetting him yet.”

Your brain almost fits the pieces together, already turning towards him to voice the question when you feel him line up his cock at your entrance. You don’t even bother doing anything other than bracing yourself as Tony thrusts into you, and you realize too late that you’re still too sensitive.

He’s more insistent as he fucks into you, just as his mouth, but he’s humping into all the right places despite your body singing to the point of pain.

“Ahn! O-oh!” At this point, you literally didn’t care that your face was practically being suffocated by the cushions that Tony Stark- your not-boyfriend- was pushing you into and fondling your breasts. You were about to get an orgasm on a dick you haven’t been treated to in months on top of a great orgasm, and it was quickly feeling like it was going to be one of the best ones you’ve ever had.

“Oh, fuck- yes, oh- Tony- fuck-! me!” You manage to scream out over your lack of breath, feeling his thrusts grow frantic. The determined mumbling he’s spouting over your ear becomes noise as your second orgasm crashes over you. Your ears are fuzzy but you can make out Tony proclaiming your name in ecstasy before he plops down on your back, causing your legs to fully give out.

You pant there, lying in sweat and regret, wanting to move just yet but knowing you have a lot of cleanup to do.

Tony shifts first, stroking your hair as he whispers once more, “So, was that a thorough fucking for you baby?”

Despite yourself, you laugh. Whether it was from the now spiraling guilt slowly ebbing away at your brain or that it was from the sudden feeling of loss in how to handle your new infidelity status, you didn’t know. You chalked it up to exhaustion.

Tony mumbles again, but you’re coherent enough to understand his words and nod, calmly lying there as he gets up. 

You waited until the bare ass of Tony left your line of sight before you shot up like a lightning bolt, gathering your clothes and racing toward the elevator in one fluid motion.

You impatiently return to your room to inspect Tony’s damages in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, trying to ignore the aftersex glow you still had. Your hands trail over your naked body, taking note of the reddened marks with each twist and turn. Yep, that was definitely a hickey.

They halt on your thighs when you feel a searing pain there and your eyes grow wide, mouth hanging open with a hiss.

Oh fuck. You had beard burn. How the hell were you going to explain that to Steve? Covering them up was one thing- but the itching pain you were going to feel?

The cum inside you suddenly shifts downward and you instinctively clench to hold it in, cringing at yourself. Another man’s mess splattered on the carpet of your and your boyfriend’s room is not what you needed right now.

Biting the inside of your lip, you hurry to the connecting bathroom and wash yourself of the sexual encounter the best you can.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

You and I by richard hadley and the death ramps, toji, fluff if possible but anything else is great too!!

WC: 2.4k

CW: sorry anon i threw a tad bit of hurt/comfort into the fluff, NOT beta read, editing what's that?, reader referred to as a biker girl, swearing, toji being a bad partner (dw he pulls it together), possibly very ooc idk i've never written for him before, plz don't ask how this got so long i honestly have no idea

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @m0k0k0

listen to this while reading

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There was something off about you. It left him unable to keep his eyes off you, but he didn't have the faintest idea of what it could be.

Was it the emotion in your music? No, that couldn’t be it because there almost always was some musician or another at the diner. And they were normally pretty decent. Maybe it was the motorcycle helmet and keys sitting next to your bag behind you. But he had been around biker girls before, so that didn’t make sense. What was it?

He always goes to this particular diner for lunch when he could, but today as he sat there examining you the place felt different. The smudges and signatures inked on the walls seemed to add to the atmosphere instead of being an eyesore, and the smell of grease and fast food almost comforting. The atmosphere seemed different today, and he felt like it had something to do with you.

Caught up in his musing, he didn’t even notice he was staring at you until you shot him a cheeky smile and a wink as you sang. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he refocused on his neglected lunch, shoveling it down to try and forget what your gaze had done to him. For some reason, he found himself wishing you would look at him again, that feeling lingering throughout the rest of the day and into the next.

I like the way you look at me baby

Toji Fushiguro doesn’t make mistakes. Not because he was born perfect, but because the reality of his life was that one mistake meant death. In a world where cursed energy was deemed necessary to fight curses he made do with brute strength alone. Which worked. Normally.

See, for his way of doing things to work, he needed to have his head in the game. To be one hundred and ten percent focused on the fight at hand. So why the fuck was he thinking about you? And why the actual fuck was the thought of you enough to throw him off his game??

These were all things running through his head as he finished off the curse before slumping to the ground beside it, one large hand pressed against the wound on his ribs as blood seeped out through his fingers.

He couldn’t afford to lose focus. One moment of distraction and this had happened. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes he would be dead right now. So he had no choice. He had to get to the bottom of this. He had to go back and see you again, if only to see what made you so special. All so that he could focus on his job, of course.

At least that’s what he told himself as he returned to the diner, hoping to see you again.

I act as if I'm not going crazy

Girl I'm in a muddle tonight

Packing up your stuff after a long gig at your local diner, you couldn’t wait to get home. Caught up in your fantasies of a hot bath and a pack of instant ramen, you didn’t notice the man approaching you until he stopped in front of you, his shadow blocking the light.

“Sorry, they’re closed, I'm just headed out now.” You look up, vaguely recognizing the hunk of muscle that stood in front of you. Oh, that’s right. He’s the guy who was staring at you during your performance the other day. You wondered what he needed.

“Give me your number.”

“Excuse me?” Of all the things you expected him to say, demanding your number was not one of them. “May I ask why you need it?”

“Just cause.” He folds his beefy arms across his chest, not wavering as you narrow your eyes and scrutinize him, unsure if he’s being serious. Unfortunately, you think he is.

“Listen.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ve had a long day. I’m tired. I want to go home. If you want my number, you have to give me something more to work with here, buddy.”

“Buddy?” He quirks an eyebrow, a smirk stretching the small scar at the corner of his mouth. “Do I look like a “buddy” to you?” 

You make a show of examining him closely before straightening. “No, you’re right. You look like the guy who ate my buddy. Which is exactly why I don’t think I should give you my number.”

And with that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and leave, climbing on your bike and speeding away. Assuming that would be the last you saw of him, you were surprised when you arrived for your next performance and found him waiting there for you.

“Didn’t get enough of me, huh.” You snark, breezing by him. “At least leave a nice tip this time, ‘kay?”

“No.” His deep voice rumbles from behind you, and you spin to see him staring at you with a stupidly sexy grin on his stupidly hot face. 

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m broke.” 

You’re unable to hold your snort in, surprised and amused by his unashamed bluntness. Still laughing to yourself, you turn around and pat his bicep. 

“Sorry, buddy.” His mouth quirks at your emphasis on the offensive word. “Now you’re definitely not getting my number.”

With that, you walk inside, leaving him outside on the sidewalk with a sneaking suspicion that he just fell in love with you. 

Would you tell me where you're gonna take it

If I had a heart you're the one who should break it

Two years later and he has successfully obtained your number, and the two of you are now in a semi-serious relationship. Surprisingly, you were the one to initiate the relationship, despite repeatedly rejecting him when you first met.

At first things had been really nice, as close to perfect as things could be, in your opinion. He was by no means a gentleman, or good with his words, but his dry humor and actions were enough to convey his affection towards you. And that was enough.

Or, at least it was, until he stopped showing up. About a year or so into your relationship he started standing you up occasionally due to work. Honestly, you weren’t entirely sure what his job was, only that it required him to travel and stay in good shape. 

The first few times it happened, you brushed it off. After all you were both adults with jobs and lives outside of each other. Of course you would be busy. But then it started happening more and more, and the periods of time he was gone became longer and longer. 

 The breaking point came around your two year anniversary. You had received a job offer that would require you to move, and as much as you wanted to take it you knew you had to talk it over with him first. There was just one problem. You hadn’t seen him in over a month.  

With your two year anniversary approaching, you really wanted to try and reconnect because you hadn’t felt close to him in awhile, and with this job opportunity on the horizon you had to think about whether or not continuing your relationship was worth it.

So you told him that you really wanted to celebrate your two year anniversary with him, and that you had something important to tell him. Not ready to give up on your relationship yet, you put a lot of effort into the night, buying a new dress and cooking a nice dinner for the two of you to share. 

But just as you finish setting the table and tidying up the house because he’s due to arrive any second, your phone dings.

Toji <3: Sorry. Won’t be able to make it tonight. Took another job. I’ll be back next week.

The engines running, can't decide if I should ride away

Tired and sore from the last job he had accepted, Toji heads back to your shared apartment, eager to see you again. He didn’t particularly enjoy taking on new jobs, but money didn’t grow on trees so he didn’t really have a choice. He did miss your cooking and affection when he was gone though.

Fumbling with his keys, he finally manages to get the door open and steps inside, only to be greeted by a dark apartment. That was strange. Normally you were home by now. The thought crosses his mind that something could have happened to you, and he slips into the living room, panic stirring in his stomach. 

Moving with an amount of stealth unexpected of someone his size, he checks the entire apartment, only to find it empty, with no sign of…anything, really. Realizing that you could just be out with friends, he flicks on the lights and plops down on the couch with a sigh. 

Stretching his arms above his head and yawning, a piece of paper sitting innocently on the coffee table with his name on it catches his attention. Absentmindedly cracking his neck, he reaches down and grabs it, gently unfolding it.

His heart sinks as he scans it, your familiar handwriting suddenly illegible. Because there’s no way he’s reading this right. There’s no way you left. There was no reason for you to. Things were great between the two of you. At least, that’s what he had thought, but according to the letter in his hands you didn’t feel the same way.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of tearing open dresser drawers and frantically searching closets for a sign that you hadn’t packed up all of your belongings and left. But all he found was empty space, the smell of your perfume still lingering in the air, despite it being devoid of your presence.

Finally taking a moment to stop and process, he finds himself wondering what he’s so worked up about. So what if you left? It’s not like he needs you or anything. He didn’t even do anything to warrant you leaving! Sure he missed your anniversary, but he planned to make it up to you when he got back! And maybe it wasn’t even the first time he had stood you up like that on an important date, but if you were willing to leave over something as miniscule as that, were you even worth keeping?

At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he went on with his life pretending there wasn't a gaping hole in his life that you used to fill.

Too stubborn to be the first person to reach out when he still felt he hadn’t done anything, a month went by without any contact between the two of you. In the beginning it didn’t bother him that much, because the reality hadn’t fully set in yet. But slowly as the weeks wore on, so too did the absence of all the little things he hadn’t realized he took for granted.

Like the way your quiet humming brought life to the otherwise dull apartment. Or the way your things scattered around on various surfaces had been a constant reassurance of your presence. He missed you scolding him and telling him he needed to take a break, he missed your laughter, he missed your kisses, he-fuck.

He missed you so much. What was he doing?

I had a woman, she went away

And now I'm lonely, fuck it

It’s now been a month since you left in a storm of hurt feelings and anger, but you still hadn’t heard from him. Deep down, you hadn’t expected to actually break up. You figured you would leave and time to cool down. Then when he got back and realized you left it would be a major wake up call for him and he would come running to you with an apology and then he would change.

Instead you got radio silence. You weren’t too concerned the first week because you knew Toji was as stubborn as you were and probably didn’t want to be the first one to reach out and admit he was wrong. 

So you waited (semi) patiently, but when a second, then a third week went by without a word, you were faced with the possibility that he wouldn’t ever call. That the two of you truly were over.

Which is why when you were awoken from your nap on the couch by loud knocking at three in the afternoon, you shouted informing them that you would be there in a second as you adjusted your clothes assuming that someone just needed you to sign for a package or something like that.

What you were definitely not expecting to see was your kinda ex-boyfriend standing stiffly in your doorway, staring steadfastly at something over your head.

“Um. Hello?” You lean against the door frame and tuck your hands into your pockets, hoping to conceal their trembling. “You need something?”

“Yes. Actually. I do.” His eyes met yours, and you were shocked by the raw emotions swirling in them. “I need us. Together. You with me. Me with you. The way things are meant to be. I know I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes-”

You snort and raise your eyebrows. “Well, a lot of the time.” He amended, rolling his eyes.

“But, I do really care about you and while I’m not the greatest with my words, or the brightest guy you’ll ever meet, I promise that if you call me out on my bullshit I’ll listen and do my best to change.”

You pretend to think it over, as if the two of you getting back together wasn’t inevitable the second you saw him standing in your doorway. “Let me see…oh wait. One second.”

Pulling out your phone you tap away for a couple of seconds before sliding it into your back pocket. “Sorry ‘bout that. I just accepted this job. Let me get back to you in a week.” With that snarky comment and a smug wink, you shut the door firmly in his face and he hears the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place seconds later.

For a moment he stands there, unsure what to do before he starts laughing. There was the feisty person he had fallen in love with and missed so desperately. And when he heard your quiet chuckles coming from the other side of the door, he knew the two of you would be okay.

The two of you were able to laugh and be together. Just the way you belong.

You and I

You and I

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 8 - i sat on a rug (biding my time, drinking her wine)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Word Count: ~7500 Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader

Warnings:

THIS IS SMUT. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE SMUT, OR NOT BETWEEN THESE CHARACTERS, DO NOT TOUCH THAT KEEP READING LINK. Under 18? Please click out of this post! All characters here are in their early-mid 20s. things that happen: reader receives oral and it's cash money. Pav aesops a lot about healthy experiences. Gwen gets a little (or a lot OOC). also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"I swear, I could have put the damn ring on Miles's finger myself after that!" gushes Gwen from her spot on your couch. She's tipsy, you're each on either your second or third hard seltzer, and your living room is starting to wobble and melt before your very eyes. "I would wholly support that," you agree. Gwen giggles in that overly familiar way, the one that tells you she's cooking up something wicked in that brain of hers. She leans in closer, slings an arm around your shoulder and peers at you through conspiratorially-squinted eyes. "So, (You), how's Pav?" she asks, a lilt in her voice that tells you there's definitely an ulterior motive to this seemingly innocent question. "Oh, he's great!" you reply, ducking out of wherever this is going. "He just raised another round of funding, so he's going to be able to expand his company more!" "That's great, but that doesn't answer my question," she says. "How. Is. Pav?" she enunciates. Her top two teeth peek out, pressing into her lower lip. You start to sweat, remembering the topic of conversation you'd been on. Gwen had given you the New York Times review of all the wild shit her and Miles had gotten up to since you last talked to her. You'd immediately learned that drunk Gwen has zero concept of propriety. "He is...the best, honestly," you deflect, but voice still deeply earnest. "I mean, can I ask for more than a handsome man with great hair who takes care of me when I'm sick, he even cleaned me up and—" "zzzzz, BORING!" Gwen shouts. She gives you a good-natured but maybe a tad too aggressive shove on the shoulder. "Skip to the good part, I want details!" "Gwen, I don't know if I should be—" you try to dissuade her. "Back when he was with Gayatri, we got trashed and she told me he was eating good, is that still true?" she whisper-growls with a saucy wink, in no way trying to lower the volume of her voice.

"Gwen!" you chide. Blood rushes piping hot to your face, heart absolutely banging off the walls of your chest. Gwen cackles maniacally and nearly spills her drink on your nice sofa. "Christ on a crutch, (You), your fucking face right now is precious! It's just a lil' girl talk, nothing here leaves this room, you get me?" she rambles. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say about...about—" you stammer. "Oh come on! It's not like you're some kind of virgin or somethi—wait, holy shit, are you a virgin?" Gwen's eyes widen. You think she looks like a fish staring like that. "Oh my god, you're a virgin! That's so sweet!" she cooes at you. She reaches to pinch one of your cheeks. "No! No no no no, it's not like that! I'm not a virgin, definitely not, we just haven't—" you race to clarify, hands waving in front of your face. "Well what's the holdup, then? Are you guys trying to up the sexual tension? Are you saving yourselves for some special occasion or..." Gwen wonders aloud, before tapping her fingers together while her face morphs into a faux-dismayed expression. "You're not scared to be with him, are you?" "No way!" your rejection of the idea is immediate, emphatic. Gwen doesn't seem to have heard that, however, with the way she keeps on prattling.

"Like, I totally get it, he's Spider-Man, he's loaded, he's got some experience, he's really fucking attractive, that's intimidating and all for, like ninety-nine percent of everybody, but I promise he really wants to be with you too, you don't have to just fantasize when you—" "Gwennnnn, for Christ's sake, I do not fantasize about my boyfriend and—" you interrupt that very, very salacious thought. "What?! Why on Earth would you not? Who are you fantasizing to?? Is it Tom Holland??" Gwen questions in rapid-fire, face clearly scandalized. "What the fuck, Gwen. No," you deny. "I'm not fantasizing about any of these people, I'm not fantasizing, period." Gwen seems awfully confused by that statement. "But, how else is a girl supposed to get off by herself? I don't get it." You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know, I must be broken or something. I've never had an orgasm," you deadpan. "You what??" Gwen sits up ramrod straight, flabbergasted. "What?" a shocked third voice sounds outside the apartment. Followed immediately by a blur of red and blue at the window near your fire escape, and then a heavy crash. You and Gwen share an alarmed look for a moment. You can almost see the steam coming out of Gwen's ears, she marches over to the window, pulls it open, and with a terrifying force, yanks the eavesdropper into the apartment by the hair. "Ow, ow, shit!" the voice yelps. It's very familiar, you realize. Because it's your boyfriend. "Pavitr Prabhakar, you have five seconds to explain to me why in the fuck you were spying on our private conversation—" Gwen starts reading him the riot act. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to..." Pavitr's groveling, apologies awkwardly spilling from his lips like a leaky P-trap. You don't stick around to hear them. You about-face and beeline to your room to curl up and die of mortification, only briefly stopping to consider that you just watched your seemingly-normal human friend drag a superhero into the apartment by the hair, like she might bring in a small bag of groceries. How much did he hear? Would he think worse of you? Did he hear Gwen talking about his— Nope, we're not doing this today.

You belly-flop onto the bed. Your pillow makes a great set of earmuffs, and doubles nicely as a dark cave to stick your head into while you hear Gwen and Pavitr arguing (more accurately, Gwen winning the argument in a one-sided fashion while your boyfriend tries and fails to form a coherent sentence) in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, dust kicking up from discussions put to the side for far too long that is now filling your lungs. You're not sure why you and him haven't talked about this, whether it was fear, nerves—

Was he scared of you?

You're not sure how long you're hiding there for, but there's one, two, three soft knocks, the squeal of your door-hinge, then, a dip in your mattress. You know it's Pavitr right away when you feel the soothing stroke of a hand on your upper arm.

"Can I hide under there too?" he softly asks.

The idea of your big, strong, superhero boyfriend being scared of Gwen Stacy makes you giggle (although it's not hard to be scare of Gwen Stacy, if you're honest with yourself). You lift the pillow up and make some room on the bed, he lays down on his side to face you, suit and all, save for his mask.

"I'm sorry if I said anything that was—" you begin.

"I'm sorry I was listening to your—" he talks across you.

You both pause. Pavitr sighs heavily and rubs his sore scalp.

"I deserved that," he admits.

"I'm not so sure you did. The direction that conversation was going was..." you trail off, you gesture vaguely in front of you, trying to communicate something to the effect of "cringe".

"You aren't broken," he says suddenly, determined.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes. They're serious and shine with resolve.

"I'm...I don't get it," you say.

"You're not broken for never having an orgasm. And I'm not convinced you can't," he explains.

You chew on the thought for a bit.

"I mean...I've tried on my own, until I just gave up. That sounds like a 'me' problem," you mumble.

"Look, I know you might not believe me, and I know you might not even be interested but..." Pavitr hesitates, runs his hand through his thick, black hair. "I'll give you one. Or as many as you want, I don't know. And I don't want you to worry about doing anything for me, or for anything to hurt, I just want...fuck, (You), my heart broke when I heard that," he admits. His mouth is wilted into a pained frown.

Your face droops, you hate the idea of sweet, sensitive Pavitr being sad on your account.

"Pav, I don't want to get your hopes up though, I feel bad already that with all of the—the bullshit in our lives I haven't taken the time to think about your own needs and—"

"No. You're the one who had three boyfriends that couldn't be assed with your needs, and were put in a situation where your choice was taken away from you, even though it didn't get anywhere," he cuts you off immediately with an open hand below your collarbone. "The only 'need' I have is the need to show you it can be so, so good when you're with someone who loves you. But only on your terms, only ever when you feel the time is right."

You feel the urge to turn away, but you can't resist Pavitr's puppy-dog eyes, the kind he gets when he sees a stray animal that he wants to adopt on the spot.

"You seem very invested in this," you tell him, like it's a strange idea. Should it be?

"I just wanna make my girl feel good" he cooes. He pulls your face against the hollow of his throat. "Hobie told you once that you could ask for whatever you damn-well wanted, and I wouldn't say no. He's not wrong, you know."

"So you are an eavesdropper!" you accuse him.

"Okay, the Amazing Spider-Man has a minor personality flaw, sue me," he snarks, but is sure to drop a kiss in your hair after the words leave his lips. "My point stands, though. If there's anything you ever wanted to try, I'd love to do it for you. That includes giving you your first orgasm. And your second, your third, your forty-eighth—"

"Forty-eight?" you gasp.

"That's really not that many!" he protests, which earns him a well-deserved flick to the forehead from you. "But, in any case, it's up to you. Like I told you when we first got together, all at your pace, sweet girl. If the thought strikes your fancy, just say the word."

"I'll think about it," you agree.

"That's all I can ask of you," he says, and brings your hand to his lips to kiss your palm.

---- The heat in Pavitr's room is stifling. The air conditioner isn't cutting it, you're in a tee and sleep shorts while he's shirtless in jeans, you only have the energy to watch an old sitcom on the bedroom TV while Pavitr works out the fatigue from your sore feet. You lay with your legs across his lap, hissing when the pad of his thumb digs in to your arch. "Darling, you have to start wearing actual shoes when doing big chores," he gently chastises you. "A slipper is a shoe," you argue back. Pavitr's thumb arcs up towards of the ball of your foot and you wince when he lands on a tender spot. "Your poor, abused feet don't seem to think so," he retorts. "Well, then you can make it better later with those magic hands of yours, mister 'I'm so good at everything'", you declare. Pavitr snickers, his thumbs find their way to the lower end of your calf, just above your ankle. "I'm good at a lot of things, dove, but not everything," he says in dulcet tones, one corner of his mouth quirked up just so. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the perfect amount of pressure his hands are putting on your leg. Maybe it's the silky feel of his voice when it resonates in your ears. But today, you start to notice a difference. You feel...aware, like a deep itch, well below the layers of skin, muscle, fat. A thirst, yet, your mouth feels full and cottony from the humid air of the room. "You're very good with your hands," you praise. The knot in your leg dissipates, and he moves on, this time pressing at the outer side, halfway up near the heart of the muscle. You exhale as he draws slow, deep circles into the tension there, it's achy, but it's pleasant, too. Pleasant in a way that makes your legs twitch, something that Pavitr doesn't miss under his thumb. "So I've been told. Among some other things," he purrs. This tone has always brought you to your knees when he used it, and he knows it. Today, however, the shiver you feel isn't the same as the others, instead of a nervous, delighted tickle, it curves lower, warmer, lingers a bit beneath your ribcage in a thick haze.

Pavitr lifts your leg by the calf, places an open-mouthed kiss over the imprint his thumb left there. Then, a second one next to it, intentional, calculated. The stuffiness of the room is so much you think you could scoop it into a glass and drink. "Pav..." you murmur. It's a little bit questioning, a little bit commanding, a little bit hesitant. The show's laugh track rings obnoxious in the background. "Sonu...you should take me up on that offer," he suggests. Or is it pleading? "...Right now?" you gulp. You can feel your pulse in your voicebox. "If you wanna," he affirms. "You don't need to do anything, just relax and...enjoy." The juncture of your thighs starts to feel uncomfortably sticky against the fabric of your shorts, you fight the urge to press them together. "What did you have in mind?" you inquire. Pavitr rolls over to kiss at your shin, then the inside of your knee before crawling up your body to level with your ear, you can feel his breath tickling the shell. "I think Gwen mentioned to you that I'm happiest when I'm eating well," he husks directly into it, and then traces the inner rim of it with the very point of his tongue. You shiver from the contact, from his words, the way they felt so close to your skin, or the teasing of his tongue, you're not sure which. You're definitely pressing your thighs together now. "Good luck with that. It's been tried, and hasn't worked," you warn him. You hate the idea of him doing all that hard work for no reward. Pavitr is nonplussed, he takes your face in hand to kiss you slow, beginning the dance you know well by now. "Did whoever was trying give you head for its own sake? Or were they trying to butter you up with oral so they could say they did before doing what they wanted?" he asks pointedly, one eyebrow quirked. You don't have to think about it for very long, you've never been given this on its own. Only before sex, and it'd be difficult to argue they were into it, or trying particularly hard to please you. "You're probably right. I don't think they were trying too hard at all. But I should have felt...something, right?" you wonder. Pavitr sighs and sadly shakes his head. "There's a world of difference if someone really wants take their time and make you feel good, instead of just half-assing it so you'll give in. It also helps to have...skill, which I can promise you, I have plenty of," he slips you a wink and licks his lips, and the subsequent jolt of thrill makes your core twitch. "All you need to know is that this is for you. I wanna give you oral because I love you, dammit. No strings, no bullshit, just very, very good head. I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, and it's going to be amazing. Sound good?" You worry your lip with your canine, thighs squeezing together at the image he's planted in your head. Pavitr waits for your reply patiently, he's not leering, his expression is fond, gentle. He's never led you astray before, so he wouldn't now, right? Right? "But...if I can't?" you trail off, leaving Pavitr to fill in the blank. He does, with ease, one hand takes yours and gives it a soft squeeze. "If something's not working for you, we can change it. If it doesn't happen today, then no hard feelings, we'll go back to what we were doing. Even if you don't orgasm, sex can still feel really good in and of itself," two of his long, elegant fingers walk along your arm while he talks, voice even and mellow. "And when you feel done, we'll be done. It's like a conversation, we go down a line, and change the topic when it feels right to," he explains, kisses your knuckles on the back of your hand. "I think I can get you there, I think you just weren't given a fair shake and need someone to actually try. But if it doesn't happen, we can try again another time. Or never, you're wonderful all the same." You exhale through pursed lips. "Okay, I'd like to try at least," you acquiesce. Pavitr nudges your chin with his hand. "Do you want to try? Or do you just feel like you should because I asked?"

You understand immediately what he's asking. His eyes are soft, but stern, he scans your face for any sign you are simply appeasing him, rather than agreeing of your own enthusiasm. He's searching for fear and apprehension where there should be desire, curiosity. You don't think you've ever been asked this, and while you can't say your past experiences were ever coerced, save for the circumstances under which you and Pavitr met, you're grateful that he's thinking of this.

"I do want to," you confirm. "I'm...nervous that I'll be disappointed again, but what you're offering feels different from what it's been like...before. You've never given me any reason not to trust you, and I'm ready to try if it's with you."

You smile up at your boyfriend, and Pavitr seems satisfied with this answer. His eyes darken further than the rich cocoa they already are, and he leans in to kiss your mouth deeply, explores every ridge, every surface of it with his tongue, a little preview of his repertoire.

"I am going to eat you up so well, for hours," he rasps directly into your ear, leaving you shuddering, getting even wetter at the seam of your shorts. "On my bed, on the kitchen counter, in my car, on my desk at work after everyone's gone home, every damn day if I have to until you come on my tongue. You deserve that much, dove." His lips ghost on the shell, then along the hollow of your throat, where he leaves gentle, slow little nips and sucks while he crawls back down your body.

You have enough sense to turn off the television before he's back over your legs, kisses and suckles getting closer and closer to the hem of your sleep shorts. Your breaths catch and stutter, each little contact a sweet torture that leaves you jumping under his mouth, your center grows slicker and you'd think he could smell you from here.

And then, to your surprise, he stops. He reaches behind you for one of the pillows.

"Lift your hips a bit for me, darling," he instructs, the tone of his voice honey-sweet.

You comply, confused, and he slides the pillow beneath them.

"What's this for?" you ask.

Pavitr grins brightly and plops a smooch on one kneecap.

"So my girlfriend is comfy, of course!" he says in a voice almost inappropriately upbeat for the situation.

Your heart melts at this thoughtfulness, never has anyone you know associated the word "comfy" with sex, but with someone as attentive as Pavitr, you're learning things can be different. Maybe those words should go together, you think.

Pavitr's nails catch on the waistband of your sleep shorts, they pause there.

"Yes?" he asks, looks to you for your assent through the dark curtain of his fringe.

You're frozen in time when you meet his eyes. It's not a particularly hard choice. It's easy enough to say no, sorry you're not ready for that. Or even ask if you can reschedule to next Wednesday, maybe work it in between the gym and your dentist appointment. He'd be happy to drop it and continue doing what you were doing, wait a hundred years if he had to. What sways you is when you meet his rich, coffee-colored eyes and there's no

want I want gimme give it lemme grab tug squeeze grab take have

You're so used to that by now. No, these eyes are soft, round, curious, even. Curious to know this part of you, to share this with you, a whispered secret on the breath of butterfly wings. To give you something that was always denied, see the way your face would light up when you got there. By the look on his face, you knew Pavitr wasn't lusting after you and what was under the shorts, no, he wanted to try, and you knew that he'd only ever try if it was for you.

"Yes," you affirm. There's no warble in the note of your voice.

Pavitr grins, lazily and closed-mouthed, hooks his fingers around the elastic and starts working the whole thing down in one shot, shorts and underwear all. Warm lips press to the bony cradle just above your mound, your hips twitch under their smack.

"Thank you for trusting me with your body, sweet girl," he says. "I promise you, you will not regret this."

The shorts are worked over your knees, your ankles, and then they're off. Your knees drop off to the sides, you ponder closing them for a moment, covering yourself up like the shy virgin you once were all that time ago. That thought doesn't get a chance to linger, as sloppy, sucking kisses are quickly alternating up your inner thighs, firm enough not to tickle, but enough for the muscle to tense beneath Pavitr's mouth with a yelp, the sensitive spot a direct line to your exposed core.

"Aanhh—" you whine as Pavitr gets closer and closer to where you'd really like him to be. He does get awfully close, the rounded point of his nose bumping against the juncture of your hip and thigh, the corner of his mouth brushing the curve of your vulva as he inhales, smiles. Suddenly, the really nice pressure is sadly gone, Pavitr's propped up on his elbows and gazing down between your legs, while you're slack-jawed huffing and puffing from arousal.

"You're really pretty here," he husks. He mouths at the soft swell just below your navel with deep mauve-colored lips, lets warmth curl up there.

"Why are you staring?" you whinge, averting your eyes.

"Why not? This part of you is divine," Pavitr waxes poetic. "And you deserve to be told as much, because it doesn't sound like you've been hearing it."

"Umm...thanks? I guess?" you sputter, incredulously. You want to shrink away from the compliment, but your boyfriend (your insufferable sap of a boyfriend) isn't having it.

"Shush, you," he jokingly chides, his breath hot against your delicate flesh. "Go away. Let me explain to my girlfriend that her pussy is perfect in peace."

"Pavitr, you're obnoxio—oh FUCK!" your words are cut off with a cry as your entire cunt is swallowed up in a sucking kiss, like the ones Pavitr had dotted along your thighs. There's nothing lazy or perfunctory about this, the suction is just right and there's nothing like the way his soft lips feel sliding against your intimate skin. He pops off with a wet, lewd smack that rebounds around the bedroom.

Pavitr snickers lowly at your reaction, and turns his head to take each of your lower lips between his, run his tongue along and beside the soft, fatty parts before delicately suckling the inner lips betwixt them. His next kiss finishes with a deep lick, one that parts your lower lips at the seam and makes you jump when a wet tongue brushes past your clit.

"Good?" he asks, an inquisitive arch on his brow as he attempts to get a glimpse of your face. His mouth doesn't leave your pussy, simply ghosts against it when he speaks. It's a hint of a touch that makes you prickle, teeny frissons along your spine from your core that sprout behind your ears.

"Very," you tell him, nodding furiously, hoping that will spur him to get on with it.

Pavitr smears a messy, affectionate kiss to the inside of your left thigh before securing his hands on the crests of your hips.

"Love you," he purrs. He nuzzles against the inner thigh with his cheek before returning to his work.

Pavitr treats you to a make-out session with your lower lips, his tongue and lips exploring every dip and curve he can find. Every flick, kiss, suck, even gentle tugs between his teeth carries intention, you can feel the weight of it in each stroke. This is not the same halfhearted attempts at the pretense of 'doing his part' you're used to, he's losing himself to the task, eyes fluttered shut behind the ebony drape of his hair as he drinks you down. It's the same way he moves his mouth when he takes a bite out of a ripe mango, your wetness dripping down his chin when he slurps on your sex. "Pavi....Pav...hah..." you wheeze. Your chest heaves in harsh breaths as a delicious, gentle heat stretches out low in your belly and finds a home there. Your boyfriend steadily continues to make love to you with his mouth, you can't resist locking your ankles together atop his upper back, he responds in turn by scooching your hips just that little bit closer, wanting as close to zero space between his tongue and your intimate flesh as possible. "Your taste, it's sofuckengood, fuck," Pavitr slurs into your cunt. You notice him shifting around just out of your field of vision. Is he...rutting his hips into the bed? Pavitr licks straight up your seam on the flat of his tongue, ends with a suck on your clit that's enough to pull it out of its hood. A sharp bolt of pleasure triggers your cunt to clench around nothing. "Holyshitholyshitdontstop" you babble to the room. Your feet kick out behind him, your hand that was bunching up the flat sheet flies to his shade-colored waves, tangles in the dense mop of hair to hold his face against your pussy. "That's the plan, dove," Pavitr rasps. He gets right back to it, delivering the same treatment to every part of your pussy. The two-o'-clock sunlight streams in rich sheafs through the window, it leaves amber dapples on his back that bend and stretch with every flex of his well-developed back muscles, they collect in the valley of his spine, the two little dimples that sit above his waistband.

This? This is nice. It's nice like this, the both of you laying here, embraced by the mid-day sun. Pleasure laps at you like waves at low tide, it's warm, warm like the sand between your toes. Your boyfriend is taking your pussy apart with his mouth, the touch of his tongue isn't teasing, neither harsh, nor lazy. It's earnest, steady, and oh is it affectionate, too. He's not here to pay some sort of toll or fee to access your body, he's basking in how wet you're getting for him, the plush of your skin against his lips, your heady scent, the sharpness of your flavor on his tongue. Pavitr's mouth cherishes this entire part of you the same way he does to the rest of you with his words. He's in no hurry, but he has no intention of making you beg or plead for your first release, he simply wishes to take you by the hand and lead you there, walk you to the door and kiss you goodnight at the threshold of a place you didn't believe existed. He knows the way, has learned the road well, and guides you there with no fuss. Yes, you think, this is nice. It starts out as a fullness, a pressure on the inside that makes you want to tighten up, squeeze around it and keep it from getting out. The pleasure sitting heavy in your belly becomes urgent, it sinks low, low, lower. The sensation is strangely familiar to you, but it's off. You feel like you're about to burst, about to— "Pavitr, stop, I'm gonna—I have to—" you reach with your free hand to stop him. Pavitr finds your hand with one of his, takes it and laces your fingers together.

"Hey. No, sweet girl, this is good. You're supposed to feel that. It means you're here," he explains, gives his head a shake so you can meet his eyes without his hair in the way. A thumb strums back and forth along the dorsum of your hand. "All you have to do is let it ride. I'll catch you, I always have," he reassures. Your head feels like it's full of bees, it feels like there's a water balloon sitting low in the cradle of your pelvis, it's scary, it's intimate, but you want more. "You promise?" you ask timidly. It seems silly to ask this of him, but you do anyway. Pavitr responds with a kiss, the softest one yet, to your lower lips. "Baby girl, I'd promise you everything," he almost growls into your pussy.

Pavitr renews his focus onto your clit, taking it between his lips and tracing upon it the outlines of flower petals with his tongue. He sups on you, over and over again, batters your pearl about with the point of his tongue, coaxing it out from its protective cloak with a please please oh please pretty please. He does not demand, he waits, arms outstretched. The fullness and urgency quickly returns, you clench down, breath held instinctively. You can't hold it anymore, you yank on his hair, and he moans into your vulva when he feels the sharp twinge on his scalp. You feel like you're going to pop and his face is right there eating you and he said he'd catch you and he's holding your hand when you pav pav pav please oh please pav i have to It's warm here The molten heat nested below your navel loses its shape, pours like molasses down your legs, between your ribs, to the points of your fingers and burbles at your throat. Warm, sticky, wet, spilling out of your core in a steady trickle. Your voice catches in a sigh, the floor of your ribcage drops as the tension eases away in a steady throb, you feel it in your cunt as Pavitr keeps on drawing mindless doodles over your clit with his mouth. It's not fireworks, it's not an explosion, it's sunrise on the roof, three o' clock on the beach in July, it's hot chocolate in December, sticky sweet affection poured into you through your sex and spilling out over the edges. It's a safe place, a joyful place, bubbly, bright, and warm. A place, a home he built for you beneath your skin, in a grove you've been too wary, too exhausted to claim as your own. He presses the key into your palm, at long last, and you are all too happy to invite him inside, in that space between your ribs. Your eyes flutter shut as a gentle tongue laps slowly, soothingly at your swollen flesh, cleans up your release as you give yourself over to the ebb of the tide. Lips tenderly trail up your mound, your navel, your sternum, your nose. Hands cup your face as the lips find purchase on your forehead, your unfocused eyes open to fuzzy strokes of bronze, charcoal, ivory. "Yes, Ahava, hello. Hi," Pavitr purrs. Your eyes adjust, the blotches of color wend into a familiar form, and there he is. He's positively glowing, both with a fondness and pride, not of himself, but for you, like he's swallowed down the sun itself. His chin and mouth bear a fine gloss from your wetness. "Whazzat? Pav?" you burble, your tongue fumbling with the words. You find that you've been curiously transformed into a pile of mush, your corporeal form broken free of its solid container.

Your boyfriend chuckles above you, and brushes a few downy hairs off your forehead where sweat holds them down.

"How's that orgasm treating you?" he smugly inquires. "...S'nice," you slur, not quite realizing how dopey your face must look. "Kinda feels like I have to pee." Pavitr covers his mouth with his hands to hide his laughter. "Alright, well, you hang tight and enjoy the afterglow, beautiful. I just need two seconds to take care of something real quick," he says. You watch as he reaches over the side of the bed and fishes around for something. "Where are you going?" you ask, a wave of sadness and worry coming over you, remembering past partners who would never stay when the act was said and done, leaving you to your feelings. "Nowhere, silly," he teases, tongue stuck out. "Just gotta make a wardrobe adjustment, then all the snuggles you can handle, I promise." You find yourself unable to reply when he works his jeans off of his hips, and the boxer-briefs with them. The tips of your ears heat up like a gas grill when you're given a generous glimpse of prominent hip bones, lithe, defined quads, and an absolutely sumptuous ass that makes your mouth water, you resist the urge to sink your teeth into it. "Hey, Pavitr, I can, 'yanno, return the favor," you offer. "Oh, that won't be necessary," he quickly replies as he skips the boxer briefs and pulls on a pair of sweats he'd left on the floor. A hint of something you can't put your finger on tinges the timbre of his voice, and that's when you notice the flush in his cheeks. Oh.

"Pav...did you...?" you hesitate to say it out loud, your brain refusing to form the words. Pavitr crawls up the bed next to you, immediately rewarding you with the tightest, most perfect snuggle he's ever given you. You're face to face, noses but a hair's breadth apart. "As a matter of fact, I did," he admits, turning his cheek into the pillow. "Knowing I was giving you this experience and seeing how much you were enjoying it, it was so damn erotic and I couldn't help but go off the edge with you. Imagine that, being the woman that made Spider-Man come in his pants by just being." "Well, I'm glad I could do that for you," you jape. Your head feels less foggy, the afterglow abating to something cozy and secure, nicely contained in Pavitr's hold. "I'm glad I could do this for you," he counters with a tap of a finger to your nose. "This was all for you, anyway, you owe me nothing. I knew you could do it, and I'm so proud of you. You just needed a patient hand. Or tongue," he winks. "You're insufferable," you groan, burying your head against his bare chest. Pavitr chortles and kisses the top of your head. "I'm talented. And I have many, many orgasms to make up for," he rebukes. His voice feels like silk, it's dripping with ego and it makes your mouth go dry. "Hopefully they're all like this one was. I keep hearing that it's supposed to be...erm...explosive, but this one was just...nice," you comment. Pavitr considers this a moment, and then you know you fucked up when you see his lips quirk into a wicked grin, a devilish gleam in his eye as one hand tightens its grip around your bare hip. "I see...say, I don't think I ever returned the favor for that upside down kiss you gave me when we met," he muses aloud. "No, I don't believe you did," you confirm, wondering where he's going with this. "Oh..." he rises to a kneel on the bed, the covers falling away to expose your calves. "Then I guess now might be a good time to do just that," he proposes.

"What do you mean by tha—ohgod!" you yip, as Pavitr uses his enhanced strength to pull you down the bed by your ankles, and then hoist your thighs all the way up to his ears, his hands settling on your hips. You're nearly suspended entirely upside-down and he's immediately ravaging your sensitive cunt with this mouth, lewd smacks rebound around the room as the blade of his tongue digs deep between your lower lips. "Jesus fuck, Pav, why are you so good at everything?" you whine, your heels thumping against his back, an expression of the pleasure rapidly coursing through your body. Pavitr doesn't reply to this, only hums an acknowledgement into your pussy. At this angle, the extra pressure from his face on your clit does a lot of work, and being manhandled by your superhero boyfriend like a ragdoll...yes please. His fingers curl into the flesh of your thighs, his lips lathe aggressively at your inner lips and clit, you can only watch as he pulls his head up just enough to tug at them with a firm suck that makes something deep in your core light up like Christmas, and then releases them with a salacious pop before going right back in to swallow, to consume, to lap you up until there's nothing left to. Pavitr's playing for keeps this time, he's not looking for a gentle release, he wants to give you the orgasm you've only heard about in stories, one that knocks you on your ass that you'll still feel the next morning. He's nothing if not a show-off, and that trait of his is on full display.

"Pavitr Prabhak—ah!" you moan, your legs flailing behind him. "You smug jackass! It's not faaaaaaair!"

Your kicking and screaming (literally) does nothing. Pavitr doesn't let up, his lips and tongue devour and his face smashes into your pussy in relentless pursuit of your climax. You squirm, but his mouth chases, and with you upside down in what you would have never expected the Spider-Man kiss to entail, you're helpless to stop it, vulnerable and ripe for the taking. But you're safe. Cared for. Loved. You can feel it in how his grip on you is gentle enough to leave no marks, the way his thumbs stroke over the skin there. The way he bends forward just enough to keep your head and shoulders on the pillow so you won't hit them on anything, or get dizzy. This scene is filthy, pornographic even with his athleticism, but as your second peak of the night comes hurtling at you, neither of you have ever felt more in love than you do right now. You have trusted him with your body in all ways like you rarely have before, and he's more than shown you he's worthy.

You come with a shout, you clench hard on empty space until you can't, it feels like a sneeze, an insane blossom of pure ecstasy from your center that blooms in a riot of red, pink, yellow, orange behind your eyelids. You feel your cunt gushing, squirting even, followed by an immense relief. Your heart pounds in your ears, your ribcage struggles to expand and contract with your breathing, it feels like you're flying, soaring in the wind. There's a fizzling, tickling feeling creeping along your arms and legs and worming its way into your brain, your pussy feels aflame, overtaxed despite the calming strokes Pavitr is now using to soak up your juices. Your abs feel sore, and you feel physically and emotionally drained, the overstimulation hits all at once, and—are you crying?

"Awww little love, it's okay. Come here, darling, I've gotcha, shhhh," Pavitr's voice breaks through the swell of emotions frothing in your chest, he sets your legs down and bundles you close beneath the blankets. "You've been through a lot of new things today, sonu. You're overwhelmed, it's completely normal and your mind just needs a minute to sort itself out," he explains, you turn your head to see all traces of mischief gone from it, only soft features remain. The flat of a hand drags up and down your spine, warm lips dot squishy kisses along your cheek and temple. "I—I thought I was broken," you blubber. "I've been trying for years." "Not broken at all, no ma'am, I even double checked," he quips with a wink. It makes you snort and you can't stop yourself from swatting his chest. "You simply hadn't been shown how sex is supposed to be: none of it works if you're not feeling safe or secure first," he says more seriously. The blunt edges of his nails slowly drag along your back, scratching carefully, it's deeply satisfying and it makes you feel calm.

"So you're saying I couldn't for so long because...I wasn't feeling safe?" you ask, past memories starting to click into place.

"Mmm, precisely so," Pavitr hums. An unhurried kiss is fluttered against your lips, the flavor a bit different than the ones before, you wonder if it's you that you're tasting. "Sex is art, dove. It doesn't just come down to technique, if your mind is worried or not feeling cared for, you're not going to be able to be vulnerable with yourself enough to feel good, or your partner, for that matter. Your partner needs to be invested in your experience, and not as a means to an end for them," he explains, his nose nuzzling yours now. "That means taking the time to make you comfortable, listening to you and instead of rushing you through, and for fuck's sake, they need to give proper aftercare, Jesus," he finishes his rant with a grumble. The protective hold around you tightens, cuing you to snuggle closer into your boyfriend.

"Aftercare...is that why I got upset when an ex went to play video games when we were done?" you ask, everything suddenly making so much more sense.

Pavitr shudders and pulls you even closer, if that were possible, you burrow into his chest. Your legs tangle together under the blanket as he kisses the space between your eyebrows.

"Oh my God, why are men like this," he mumbles under his breath. "Yes, aftercare is making sure your partner is feeling okay and safe after you're done. Sex is intense, physically and emotionally, and if they weren't making the effort to take care of you like this after, it's no wonder you didn't have any fond memories of it. I hate that those were your first experiences, but that will never happen again, I can promise you that."

"Oh...so right now, this...this is aftercare?" you ask shyly. You think it sounds silly at your big age to be asking this, but since you're both putting everything on the table, you might as well learn for the future.

Pavitr senses the discomfort and tips your chin up to meet his eyes. They're still sparkling, but carry a stern edge to them.

"Hey, there are no dumb questions with me," he firmly reassures, his eyes softening further. "Yes, this is one way aftercare can look. It can also mean things like...like rubbing their back, or watching a movie they like together. Maybe even taking a bath with them or giving them a massage, just little things to reassure them and help them come down gently from an intense moment. It's the best part, in my book," he purrs.

You're inclined to agree. You're all tuckered out, your limbs have definitely turned to jelly with no chance of reconstitution, you feel buzzy on the inside in the best way, and it's warm and toasty here under the blankets, tangled up together, his bare skin on your cheek. You're basking in each other's afterglow and he's lavishing as much affection on you as he's got to offer, there's nothing closer, nothing better than this. Well, except maybe one thing...

"Can we...can we take a bath too?" you suggest, uncertainly.

Pavitr scrunches up his round nose as his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"You act like I'd say no to that. Of course we can, dove!" he exclaims. "You're the one who had her first two orgasms in a row, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't let you pick?" he's already hefting himself off the bed to carry you there himself.

"Together with me?" you kiss at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, all you can reach from his hold, your feet dangle limply in the bridal carry. Pavitr looks down on you with a besotted expression.

"I like the sound of that," he cooes in your ear as you cross the room. "And I wanna wash your hair with my shampoo again, I loved smelling it on you the next morning."

"But Pav, your shampoo is expensive!" you protest.

"You just had a screaming orgasm, like, ten minutes ago, let me spoil you at least a little," he counters. He nudges the door open where it's ajar with a hip check, being sure not to jostle you.

"That's already spoiling me!" you argue.

Pavitr laughs, deeply kisses your mouth like he did your center, and closes the bathroom door behind him with his heel.

[midnight-talescape]

Prey (Koro Sensei x Reader)

Kinktober day 13: Tentacles

I am not proud of my search history right now

Warning: Tentacle, overstimulation, non-con, some yandere, a tad bit ooc, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

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You held your breath as you waited in the shadow.

Your ear picking up the sound of the yellow octopus coming into the forest.

You’re not sure why does he come here every night for the last few weeks, but he seem to be at ease here, and you’re not going to give up any chance of killing him.

Knowing full well of the damage he can cause, and your chance of death you waited in silence.

Soon you saw him walking (slithering?) into the forest clearing, once his back was turn you dashed out quiet and lethal, your knife in hand ready to kill the octopus for your master.

Just as it look like you was about to succeed, you realized something was off and quickly tried to back away, but it was too late.

In a blink of an eye, your weapon was knocked away and you were hold up by his many tentacles.

You attempted to get out and once you realize it was to no use, you gave up.

“I have lost, so I accept my death,”

Hearing this Koro Sensei bonk you on the head,

“What are you do-“

“I’m telling you to relax a bit, you seem awfully stress,”

“Do not treat me as a child, I am a adult and a assassin sent to kill you,”

Something gleam in Koro Sensei eyes,

“Oh really? Well then I know just the thing to relax you. After all adult need some special care (Yes, yes we do)”

“What are you talking ab-“

You were stopped short when you felt his tentacles slipping into your clothing, slithering across your body.

“Ha…Wha-what are you fu… ugh… fucking doing,”

“Giving you special care of course, normally I will do this quickly but you seem to need more time,” with that he seem to smile wider, and despite not knowing what he meant you had a bad feeling about this,

“Let me g-“

Koro Sensei slipped a tentacle into your mouth,

“Now, now be quiet, so you can enjoy the process,”

With that he slipped his tentacle down your throat, your eye water as your throat tighten around his tentacle trying to push it out, but to no avail.

Slowly you felt his tentacles wrapped around your breast squeezing and twisting them, as other tentacles pull down your pant.

You shuddered as you felt the tentacles touching you through your underwear, you body unfamiliar with the feeling.

“Oh my, seems like someone’s enjoying this,”

With that he control his tentacle to enter your fold, hitting the very inside of your body.

You arched you back, the pain and pleasure blurring your mind. The tentacle inside your mouth started moving, the saliva you can’t swallow dripping down your chin.

Seeing you were ready Koro Sensei with a laugh insert another tentacle into your fold, thrusting in and out at the same time.

Suddenly with a tremble you reach your first orgasm as one of them break into your womb, fucking it in and out.

Once it was in, the tentacle in your womb curled up creating a bulge in your stomach as though you were pregnant.

Tears well up in your eye as your body was  forced to take in the abuse.

Just as you thought you will die here all of the tentacles left your body including the one in you mouth, panting you looked at the sky your mind blank,

The tentacles holding your body, raised you higher and opened your legs, before you can do anything 2 bigger tentacles thrust into your fold.

You let out a scream of pain, your body which have never gone through this, now forced to take in 2 tentacles the size of your arm. You were quickly forced to orgasm continuously from the pain and pleasure as your body adjust to the length pumping in and out of you.

When you reach your orgasm again the 2 tentacle fucking you before went for your ass. Your mouth gape open as the tentacles start to thrust inside you not giving you a chance to adjust.

After who knows how long Koro Sensei came closer to you,

“L-let me die… ah! W-what…haa.. are you doing, uugh… to me…”

“Im trying to get you to enjoy something, after all your so call master doesn’t seems to treat you well,”

“F-fuck you… gahh… my master… ha… is not for you to t-talk about…”

Koro Sensei seems to think about this,

“Well your master didn’t even give you the weapon to kill me, he wants you to die here it seems like,”

“L-liar… ah!!!”

You wail as a particularly hard thrust brought you over again,

“I can take you to see it you know,” with that he stuff you into his clothing as he get ready to go to your master’s base, the entire time thrusting his tentacles inside you,

When you reach there he shoved a tentacle in your mouth to stifle your moaning as you guys listen to how your master planned this to have you kill.

Once you guys left, the tears that you have been holding back stream down your face, as you let out moan and get fuck in the middle of a forest.

Seeing this once he get you to orgasm one last time, he pulled all of his tentacles out of you and hold you to his chest,

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you…”

You sniffled and fell asleep in his arm, too tired from the fucking and emotional distress…

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Koro Sensei can see you again, slowly stalking him.

There were many assassins sent to kill him but you were different.

Well for one you don’t have the right weapon. Two, you were… better.

Not just your skill, but your code to not hurt innocent people.

You might not have noticed it, but he did. Every time you left as to not hurt his student, when you could have easily took them hostage.

Koro Sensei felt something inside him, the tentacles is whispering to him again, asking what does he want.

And this time he has another answer…

…he want you

[gsstories]

Sooooo…

I have read @willowthearts’ Kunoichi fic and so far I LOVE it! It’s a bit more believable and not as OOC with the canon characters as other RC9GN I have seen. I especially love the flashbacks to First Ninja and the First Kuno cause, come on, they are awesome!

And so I thought ‘Man, it would be fun if Joan was in the story.’ although I was stumped considering there already be a Kunoichi, a very badass one at that! Then I thought ‘Why not play into more of the witch part? Joan was a witch after all before everything went to shit.

And so I have made…

The Häxa! A version of Joan who went with a more magical theme, one who is mostly the same as the Kunoichi version of herself but relying more on magic than her weapons, which she still uses. As you can see, the hat she wears has a veil that comes down and hides her face, making sure nobody is able to figure out who she is. She still has her knife shoes, war fan and her sickle with her. Her legacy is still the same as before, however, instead of a mask being passed down to different girls, it’s the hat that is passed down.

This is obviously not canon but I imagine the way Häxa would meet First Ninja and First Kuno (Miori) would be when they come across a non-Sorcerer monster who is a tad bit too strong for them to beat. Then, the silhouette of a tall, strong and rather intimidating woman would appear, striking down the beast with ease since that is her whole job. From then on, they would become allies, a bit of reluctance on Häxa’s part. Most of her interactions with the others would be strictly limited to missions until a while passes and she starts to open up. I tried to give her a '6'8 feet tall priestess with golden eye, don't touch it' kinda vibe if you know what I mean! (Basically, 'fuck around and find out!')

That’s all I have for now! I’ll come up with more stuff about Häxa soon!

[agentbobr]

I don't really know who you write for, and I'm sorry if you don't want to answer, but I have a rottmnt ask!

How do you think the four boys would react to having a S/o that loves to knit, and makes them a stuffed animal? Maybe of just a normal teddy bear but with their color in mind?

oooh ive never written for tmnt before! this will either go great or tragically- so sorry if they're a tad bit ooc :')

🧸❥ Raph would appreciate it so much!!

🧸❥He knew you knit but didn't think you'd make him something! Especially not one that matched his whole...ya know, colors and theme!

🧸❥Expect him to name it something really corny and sweet

🧸❥Annnd snuggle with it every night, it's gonna be loved! that's for sure :))

🧸❥But it might get quite a bit roughed up on his spikes so expect to see him looking very guilty quietly asking if you could fix it every few months-

🧸❥ Leo would look at it, look back up at you before immediately tackling you with love<3

🧸❥ I mean you even added his stripes!! That's some detail work and he is impressed!

🧸❥ As a thank you, he will be taking you out to the finest pizza establishment around! cough Run of the Mill pizza cough

🧸❥ This bears gonna get so loved!, he buys the finest baby clothes and dresses it up like royalty!

🧸❥ He'll jokely call it your guy's baby

🧸❥ Donnie won't show it, but he's very happy with it!

🧸❥ And I'm sorry but he will be putting it in a display case. No if ands or buts.

🧸❥ He also appreciates that unlike most knitted items, it doesn't give him sensory overload!

🧸❥ Occasionally will let Shelldon play with it, but only under observation. He doesn't want it to get damaged at all

🧸❥ I like to think that in the future, after the Kraang invasion, He would still have it! Slightly damaged but only a bit. And it's still in a fucking display case omfg-

🧸❥ Mikey loves it so much!!

🧸❥ He's immediately going to hug it and squeeze it and brag about it to his brothers

🧸❥ Expect him so make it clothes that look just like his outfits, so they can match!

🧸❥ I mean look at it! It's got his markings! That's so cool!

🧸❥ He'll also learn how to knit but only because he wants to make you a bear as well!

really hope these weren't too ooc hehe <33

[honakito]

HOPEFULLY IM UR FIRST REQUEST😈😈

can i request an akito x fem! reader who's a producer??

from, catarina <33

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀were going to hollywood , baby !

ACTION? CUT! - prod. honakito

posted as : request

chars : s. akito

type : x fem ! reader

scenario : akito with a film producer girlfriend ( headcanons )

notes : HELL YEAH FIRST REQUEST when i saw this i jumped up from joy and squealed like a seal what the fuck !!!!! LETS HAVE A HARDCORE MAKEOUT SESSION ,,,, anyway . eerrr enjoy i dont know if im the proudest of this

notes 2 : i didnt know if u meant producer as in music producer or film producer  so i did only film producer based on your blogs aesthetic, but i could also do music producer reader if i can squeeze out some time from my personal life like it is a toothpaste tube screeching from agony whenever those roller thingies are used on it for getting out the smallest bit of paste

date : 17 / 01 / 24 - 18 / 01 / 24

he probably didnt know about your career choice till you started getting close. 

it was near the start of your relationship. akito invited you out to watch vivid bad squad practice when it happened. so when you mentioned something related to it when they were taking a break, he was like ‘ ??? what  ‘ . 

so, of course, you told him you were a film producer. and boy was he surprised. because somehow he managed to be the only one that didnt know.

well, he was pleasantly shocked, atleast.

now, logically , he admires you a tad bit! he knows a little about acting and directing, after all, he was literally the protagonist in a movie. the film indistry doesnt amaze him much, but he absolutely knows the amount of hard work it goes in one movie and—

i think he admires you more than a bit. 

hes probably more amazed of the fact that you can stay composed, under all of the stress that comes in the process.

if youre in the same class, he will most definitely ask you about how things are going on set. hes more than glad to hear you ramble about what you’re currently working on.

he is interested in everything youre producing. every plot seems watch-worthy if it is you whos explaining it.

but if not, it doesnt really change - he’d still do the same things but in breaks. 

during the best picture wrap, he accidentally went on a yappin session about you to nene when directing the film - hence why you two probably got closer. then an teased him about it.

and if you finally release a movie — lo and behold — he will try his absolute BEST to watch it on the release day and give his personal opinions to you.

down to analysis and criticism, he will give it. except the criticism is barely there. nothing sucks to him if its made by you. biased loser in love

summed up, hes a movie nerd when it comes to your passions results .

this is a little ooc im killing myself soon

dividers arent mine ; credits to the rightful owners on TUMBLR

[mydemondetoxmanual]

Me and mom just finished season 5 of spn. I cried like a baby because fuck me I forget how beautiful Swan Song is.

Mom loveddd the finale was great but says the show should have ended with Dean settling down, Sam in the cage Bobby hunting and cas in heaven (I 100% agree even though I’m glad we have 10 more seasons).

She believes chuck is more than a prophet given his last scene.

She doesn’t believe that Dean would ever actually settle down and give up hunting; that Sam would be the more likely one to do that not Dean. She feels it’s a tad ooc but understands he’s doing it because Sam asked.

The very iconic line of: “Not for nothing CAs, but the last person who looked at me like that got laid 😉” had her do a double take because hello Dean why did you say that to a man you are in a platonic relationship with and suggestively winked????? The Destiel is getting harder for her to ignore and she’s really starting to see why people think they were a thing/everything.

She almost started crying when both cas and Bobby died.

She was shocked to see Sam out of the cage at the end; she turned to me and asked who pulled him out and all I said was we have to find out in season 6 and she groaned. Like yes now understand the spn pain.

All in all she enjoyed season 5 immensely. I’m unsure how she’ll react to season 6. In find of season 6 but I know for a lot of people it just didn’t sit well so we’ll see.

I’ll post more of her thoughts when we get in a couple of episodes of the seasons probably tomorrow.

[decaydanceredacted]

don’t get me wrong i love the way hornies think of william but as as hugeee TAI TV lover/obsessed autistic(tm) i think non ooc bilvy deserves some love too

like he’s a kinda quiet artist who tries so hard to be so kind and understanding and make his fans happy even if they can be a bit weird sometimes. i think all the people hypersexualizing him made him a bit uncomfy and confused but he was just trying his best to be understanding(see dick mold dildo post.) contrary to popular belief i don’t think he was even that shy,, he was just quiet. i mean fast times makes him sound like a bit of a slut but also tad bit stalkerish in hs and siskys description of meeting him is literally that some girl in pe mentioned how hot he was. he was not really a bullied loser outcast or super duper insecure ever imo. because of see above i also don’t think he was really a like nervy stuttering mess that just loves to get fucked until he couldn’t remember his own name, and i don’t think he was THAT whiny and pathetic- but i still think he was kinda loud which is a fun contrast to how quiet he usually seemed. all that being said i think he was a top but def not a like big hard mean dom, maybe sometimes he soft dommed just adoring his partner and doing all the work to make them feel good while calling them sweet little things(see the wine post i sent in) i think he was bi but had sex with women a good amount of the time. i think he liked having them in his lap while they were wiggling around on his cock and sucking hickeys into their neck and softly playing with their tits and moving a hand down to their clit while whispering ‘taking it so well sweetheart, my good little girl, you feeling good baby?’ i think he kissed all super sweet and gently holding their face with one hand and playing with their hair with the other. i think he was a lover. i think as he got older maybe he liked it when partners called him daddy just in the way that he could take care of them and protect them. i think he could get a bit protective and possessive sometimes. i think he’s still always just had like straight up vanilla missionary sex a good half of the time where they’re not taking themselves too seriously. also just. hands. his fingers are so long and elegant i think he would spend so long just feeling girls up and smoothing over their curves. i need to feel two of his fingers steadily pumping in and out of me while he kisses at my thighs and clit. i need him to write a poem or little song or something afterward about how pretty i am, in general and during sex. like talking about how lovely i am in bed without getting super vulgar. i need him to call me his boy. i think he’s just so artistic and philosophical/emotional about everything he does and that extends to the way he thinks about sex,, like it’s never super aggressive and impersonal to him even when it might be kinda rough/a one night stand. i think he’d be super cuddly and get you water afterwards and maybe give you a massage with his deft pretty fingers slowly and intentionally working over your muscles to relax you until you fell asleep in his arms. i think he likes wearing nice outfits and feeling good about himself. i need this man biblically.

anyway j thought i’d send some love to more realistic william sex/partnership because i love him he’s my favorite he’s my girlfriend and i love him so much. obvi it’s probably not actually realistic cause yanno,, i don’t know him or his sex life b j my idea of it based off how he actually seemed to act. <3

also idk why b i feel like the fact that i’m an autistic transmasc with heavy ass daddy issues(bats eyelashes endearingly) is important context to all this

-spiral anon

.

[fireylesbianhell]

This World Won't Ever Forget Us

javid AU chapter two electric boogaloo. we get some perspective switch-up. this probably isn't similar to my usual means of writing, and it's not beta'd at all. I'm still working on getting a grasp of these characters, I apologize if they're ooc.

this one took me to hell and back. anyways, ill bitch more in the tags, you may now eat your lukewarm microwave meal of a chapter

as always, inspired by "Bite The Bullet" on ao3

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

David Jacobs was a smart guy, this was an undisputed fact. Ask his Mother, Father, Sister, or Brother.

Ask his few drifting 'friends', that, are honestly more like 'odd Acquaintances' or 'pitiful classmates'. Ask any of his proud teachers who liked having a nice boy and star pupil or the begrudging teachers that let who they saw as a smartass and some 'waking mouth' go by with flying colors in their class. 

So, if you were to say, ask David Jacobs why he was in a car, going 45 down a highway, hoping, prayin’ that the law wasn’t on their ass, he would simply stare in your face like you were a madman. 

Yet, he was the madman in question.

Hearing the car rev again before slowing down, he turned to his fellow escapee. 

He looked about his age, give or take possibly a year or two, but he could tell that he didn’t seem the type to have a ‘Just Graduated’ mentality after having just watched him let loose in the rickety old car down the highway after beating up someone for him in an alleyway.  

“So…” He started slowly, holding onto his cap that still threatened to fall off his head despite the acceleration of the car being slowed. 

“If you’re about to ask if we have any form of a plan, sugar, you’re shit out of luck.” He said exasperatedly. Dave shut his mouth quickly after that. That was, indeed his question- but there was a bit more to it. 

“Actually- er, I wanted to know your name.” He said, probably sounding just as exasperated himself as a look of guilty shock briefly traveled on the driver’s face. 

“...Jack, um, Kelly. Jack Kelly.” He said, slowly, as if clashing with himself out whether to entrust the information to David. 

“David Jacobs, but you already knew most of that.” He said, to clear the air a bit. The car was fully slowed down now, and he let go of his cap. 

They sat again in a bit of awkward stillness before David decided that, if he were likely gonna be spending a little while with this guy, he would bite the bullet, and get to know him. 

“So, erm..where did you grow up?”

“Rowena, Texas.” He replied flatly. 

“Texas? That’s…nice. Why in the hell did you leave Texas for Oklahoma? This place is the worst, y’know.” 

“Wasn’t no choice. ‘Pa had to pack it up from Texas due to our farm going up in price he couldn't keep up with. Stopped up here for a bit and then I got myself arrested.”

And that, made David’s heart stop a bit. 

Run away with a stranger? Bad. Run away with someone who has a criminal record? To, kindly put it, he was fucked. 

“Um…wow…” he said hesitantly. 

He watched Jack deflate a bit. “It was petty theft. A bicycle- I was 13.” He said, still wearing that shunned expression yet not sounding remorseful one bit. 

This did help Dave’s conscious, if not just a tad. He nodded and said, 

“So, no plan, a record consisting of…bike theft, and a car.” 

“Stolen car, a gun in the back, and only one destination before I was bound to drop off the face Oklahomama…” Jack rambled out, gripping down the steering wheel, before blinking a moment and sighing. 

“Before, you of course,” he said with a near wistful glace if Dave had to truly describe it. Wistful, Scared, And the same blink-and-you-miss-it 'oh, god I'm fucked' look in his eyes. 

And if David took note of his rather pretty slightly multi-colored brown-green eyes, that was just for him to know, thank you very much.

David stared back. He was in a car- a stolen car, his brain helpfully supplied to him- with a criminal and a gun, on the run, running where? 

He kept that thought aside- he was too busy still looking at an extremely stressed-out-looking Jack starting to babble on once more. 

“I tried- to tell ya, I mean. I promise i-i ain’t no crook. Just- trying to get out, like you.” He paused, looking guiltily again before starting up 

“I can drive you back. Back to your house, or, hell even that scum stunk diner if you don’t feel safe or nothin-” 

Jack Kelly couldn't continue, as he was busier suddenly attempting not to crash a car at the moment- 

due to the fact that David Jacobs was currently kissing him. 

Jack wasn’t an expert in anything romantic. 

He had one ‘girlfriend’ on a nearby farm once, when he was nine, and a few here-and-there crushes. It took one crisis in juvenile detention to take a realizing that, he liked boys just as much as he did gals- he didn't express it too much less someone like his Ma, from those few fragmented memories he had of the woman who left him, who spent every open minute on about God hatin’ the ‘Queers’ and may take it in their head to try and hurt him for it. 

Jack knew he had a little thing for the boy who ran away with him in his stolen car, and, to have this boy kissing him like his life depended on it was a real eye-opener, especially while you're supposed to be driving.

Eventually, as if they both remembered humans do need to breathe, and broke apart, Jack's eyes darting to the open road ahead of them and making a sharp turn to the side of the road. 

David’s eyes widened as if it had just hit him what he’d done. 

Dave started to panic, internally- he just kissed him! Just like that! He didn't pull away sure but- maybe he was shocked? Angry? Maybe he was about to yell at Dave for not asking or he probably didn’t even like guys at all oh god-

Dave’s worries were paused by Jack kissing him this time. 

Oh- well, that was a whole lot better than what he initially expected to happen. 

Jack pulled them apart and then, sighed, oh so dramatically, that David couldn’t help but laugh himself. 

“So..." he started, that exasperation back mixed with a meekness David expected seeing in watching his younger Brother trying to ask a girl out to a dance. Dave simply smiled, giving Jack a patient smile 

Jack paused, looking up again. he gained his confidence once more, if only for a second. 

"We don’t know each other still anyways, but Davey Jacobs, will you go wherever the hell with me despite my vast and likely growing criminal record?"

If you asked David Jacobs’ parents, siblings, acquaintances, and teachers. or anyone who ‘knew’ him, they would tell you he was obviously smart enough to say hell no. 

“I Will.”

—————–––—————––

Stepping into the shittest motel he’d ever seen, Dave was really starting to feel the romance. And now the lack of adrenaline that’s been fueling his life-changing choices.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“It’s not perfect, I know- but, once I get another job done, we’re gonna be in the finest homes wherever we wanna be.” He grinned- that grin could bring David’s mind from its encyclopedic likes to nothing in an instant, yet somehow make him want to write the sappiest most romantic stuff he could ever dream of. 

Dave nodded and let him talk to the clerk, requesting the one-bedroom and getting by with an odd look, and thankfully nothing else. The man didn’t seem an uptight kind, god knows what happens here at his motel, and by the looks of the place, David was sure that two guys who may be queer were the least of his concerns. 

He and Jack made their retreat up, and when they got there Dave Collapsed backward onto the bed while Jack dropped a few things to the little shoddily built wood table beside them. 

Dave looked up seeing the car keys, Jack's handgun, and a few papers on top of an open map. 

“What’s that?” He asked, scooting over to see a few things marked down on the map half-covered by newspaper clippings and addresses, and a few notes in piss-poor handwriting from odd names like "Race" and "Specs" 

“Places I need to be or have scouted out.” He said stoically, before smiling and grabbing his hand suddenly. 

Jack pulled him over and put a pencil in Davey's hand and wrapped his arms around his shoulders with a giddy little smile. 

“Well? Anywhere you want babe. The world is ours the second I get those jobs done and then some. Any Job, Home, Earnin' you can think of.” he smiled, taking a step back and letting Davey have full control now. 

This was new. 

David Jacobs could finally help call the shots. Be dangerous, Be wild, and kill off that clean-cut plastic mold of a person he had to be, the person that drove him to the madness that got him to jump in that car this morning.

Ever since he was a kid there was almost always something he had to take care of. He had to help his father out constantly after the accident and relies on Dave to help him with his job. If Sara was unable to help their mother, Dave could do it with no problem. keep up with the chores, do the schoolwork, and help with his parent's work and his sister's work. 

Then in school, his intellectual ability was immediately turned against him by others. Got a project with David Jacobs? Oh, then you basically don't have to do anything at all! Let brainiac handle it. 

Then, Mom & Dad have Les, and David Jacobs becomes the babysitter, helper, worker, cheat sheet, and everything else in between. Every minute of his life became doing things for and taking care of other people. 

And now, Tall, Dark, Handsome swoops into his life, and Jack Kelly gives him freedom. 

He looked up at Jack with one of the most genuine expressions of happiness he’d ever felt on himself before and looked back down at the map. 

He too wanted to see it all, and by god, He & Jack were gonna. 

But David Jacobs was a smart guy, who knew they had to start small. 

He circled a little theatre right outside Oklahoma City, a nice rich place his family traveled to once. 

He had an ally there.