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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 month

Note

OMG no way are you going to write an AU of Daemon's visions at Harrenhal??? I know its AAAAAGES away from where you are in the current story but desperate hos wanna kno ;)

Ask, and ye shall receive!

until i bleed myself dry

Note: This is technically using the characters/characterisation I have established in my terms of endearment series, but really you only need to know that the Reader is Rhaenyra's younger sister and that, instead of marrying Laena, he spent a decade ho-ing it up in Pentos before coming home and getting dazzled by his niece before deciding to wife dat gurl.

WARNING: Please note this is dark, dark stuff. Discretion is advised. Please use your judgement wisely before engaging.

Triggers: graphic depictions of violence, violence against children, character d*ath, MAJOR hallucinations, sexual scenes including visibly underaged character/s.

There is something fucking wrong with this place.

Daemon feels like a skittish child as he withdraws to his chambers, covers drawn up to his neck like the fabric will keep away the very worst of midnight evils. He does not know if the steady drip, drip, drip he hears is in his head or if the stone ceiling is cracked enough to let through the rain. Knowing Harrenhal, he would hardly be surprised by the latter. Still, the noise only serves to speed the racing of his thoughts, turning them fearful as he has not felt since the weakness of his youth.

In this moment, he curses his own doings. If he had stayed his hand—if he had held his tongue—the boy would not be dead, and mayhaps you would not be so wroth with him. He would not be alone in this shithole of a keep a world away, chilled to the bone and miserable as he thinks of you warm and safe in your bed with the children. Without him.

When he finally falls asleep, he dreams.

He knows it is a dream, for he can hear your humming. Soft, sweet, the kind of tune you sing to Daeryx after one of his tantrums. His head lifts from the pillow and he finds himself back in your shared rooms on Dragonstone, eyes finding you in the chair by the hearth. Your hair, unbound, shines like molten amber in the firelight, swaying softly as you tend to business that is concealed from his gaze. Enthralled, he rises, making his way to you.

Drip, drip, drip.

He pauses. That sound… it doesn’t belong here. He calls your name. You ignore him. He moves closer, tentative.

“Come look,” you murmur suddenly, startling him. “Come, kepus.”

His feet move unbidden, out of his control.

Bile pools at the back of his throat, gut curdling at the sight of the boy—the boy—cradled in your lap. You and he are wet with blood, and it drip, drip, drips to the floor, echoing eerily. His eyes are open, face petrified, and Daemon realises that the dark at his neck is not in fact a shadow but a gaping wound, made jagged by the weapon used.

You look up at him, skin shining with sweat and expression exultant. “Look at him, kepus. Look at what you made.”

Memory flashes—he brings his son back down to rest beside his daughter on your lap, two moonshine miracles side by side. “Look at them, kepus,” you whisper, spellbound. “Look at what we made”—and his lungs constrict. You make to lift the child up, but the movement jostles his head off its perch, and it rolls to the ground to stop by his feet. He cannot move. He is frozen, horrified.

You smile, tucking the headless corpse under your chin. Gore pulses against your throat as your chin settles to the yawning maw of the child’s open neck. You rock in your seat, a faint squelch each time your shifting weight disturbs the sodden cushion beneath you.

“I love him,” you whisper, lips pressing to where flesh meets innards. Your mouth comes away red. “I love him so much.”

Daemon awakens with a yell. He swallows once, twice, and then—

He leans over the side of the bed, retching violently. When it is over, he curls up on his side, shaking, staring at his hands. They are wet with blood.

It does not take long for terror to settle in his bones like a longtime companion. It follows him each day, in every waking moment, manifesting in strange visions that he knows—he knows—must be untrue, cannot possibly be real, and yet… And yet. There is a sort of verity in them.

Dark Sister feels like a leaden weight at his hip as he stalks the keep, a reminder of his earlier encounter with Rhaenyra. Only she was not the Rhaenyra he knows, and instead a strange sort of blend of child-queen, the face of the girl peering out accusingly from under her father’s too-large crown, exclaiming all manner of hurt as she stepped from the Iron Throne upon which she perched.

“You put me on that throne. And you love me, and you hate me for it. You created me, Daemon. Yet you are now set on destroying me. All because your brother loved me more than he did you.”

And, without warning, he had taken his blade up in arms and struck off her head, a puppet on strings pulled by another. As her body fell, it morphed into the boy again. Jaehaerys. The child he had murdered. He heard your humming even while Simon Strong’s voice filtered through his unconscious mind, alerting him of the raven that just arrived.

The healer woman’s concoctions have helped little. He still wakes to strange noises, still finds himself stalking after his monstrous one-eyed nephew down the halls, only to find that it is himself he is pursuing. He hears the words you yelled at him in that last great quarrel— “get away, leave before you turn on us and murder us like you murdered that boy”—interspersed with the sound of your screams, and perhaps they are the screams you let out when birthing his children, or perhaps they are screams of a different kind, a version of himself making good on the implication of your words, steel in hand and pursuing his love, his life, his blood—

These figments blur with reality to the point that he becomes unsure of what is before him and what exists only in his head to haunt him. He comes to dread the resting hours, only to find their horrors bleeding into daylight. Whatever strange power has come to roost in his mind serves only to bring him torment.

Perhaps this is why he is not immediately suspicious when he comes face-to-face with you once more.

You stand by the window, the dim light filtering weakly over your bare form. Your back is to him, curls spilling to brush the tops of your buttocks. Their gentle sway—the barest kiss to your skin—is tantalising, and his mouth dries even as he watches your neck crane, sly smile tossed back over your shoulder at him.

“Daemon,” you beckon. Like a cuntstruck fool, he is helpless to resist the call.

His hands settle to the familiar divots of your waist, up and up and up to cup the fullness of your tits. You lean into him, a quiet huff of pleasure escaping as his fingers squeeze and his lips fall unbidden to the slope of your jaw. He inhales deeply, stirred even now by the simplicity of your scent, a throbbing line straight to his groin. You turn in his hold, nose nuzzling against his chin.

“You were right,” you say, eyes shining. “You were always right.”

He is under some enchantment, surely, for he is incapable of coherent speech. All he can do is feel the satisfaction heat his veins, allow it to tug at the corner of his mouth. I knew it, he thinks. I knew her will would bend eventually.

You speak still, even as he backs you toward the bed. “Papa was weak. Rhaenyra is weak. Only you are the true blood of the dragon.”

You shift backward onto the mattress, legs parting invitingly. The split of you opens, revealing flushed folds and the teasing glimmer of want, shining slick for his hungered gaze.

“Fearless”—your hand trails down your belly, fingers tracing around your pearl—“brave”—you venture lower, pressing teasingly at your cunt, your lip caught between your teeth—“strong.”

Daemon drops to his knees before you, tongue licking through the spill and catching on your finger. He bullies it out of the way, arms locking around your thighs as he gluts himself on the sweet tang of you, senses clouding and narrowing to a singular point of existence. You grip his hair, the arches of your feet digging against his back.

“It is not my place to question you,” you breathe, twisting and writhing with his ministrations. He watches your face, enraptured by the toss of your head and the shape of your lips as they form moan after moan. Your release is quick, a final sobbing yelp followed by a flood of slick warmth. When your eyes reopen, they are blazing with reverence. Reverence for him. Your knees flex up, your lower half folded almost to your chest. Your cunt contracts, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. “I live to serve you, my king.”

His head feels heavy as he rises just barely to crawl over you. He frowns. When he lifts his hand to extricate yours from his hair, he finds not flesh, but cool metal. A crown.

“My king,” you coo below him.

Your surroundings are changed. It is not the meagre offerings of Harrenhal that frame you now, but the sumptuous trimmings of the king’s chambers in the Red Keep, only brighter, more lavish than they ever have been. Jewels sparkle at your throat, in your hair, at your wrists. The sheets are molten gold against your silver-pale, and you wind your hips up at him provocatively, catching his cockhead against your opening.

“You belong on the throne, husband,” you say, fist closing around his shaft and pumping once, twice. You lead him back to the core of you, nudging him just inside. “Uncle. My love. And I belong at your side—at your feet—under your body.”

“My queen,” he gasps, driving forward with a grunt, and oh, he has missed you, missed this, missed the clutch of your walls like a mother’s embrace and the sound of your breathy cries as he plunges deep. Plunges home.

“My king,” you call out, rising into him with unrestrained abandon, precious gems clinking frantically with each fevered hitch of his hips against yours. “My lord. My master. I was made for you.”

“Yes…”

“Chain me to this bed, my king.” Your spine arches toward him, hands grabbing for his own and leading them above your head. He takes this for the encouragement it is, pinning your wrists to the pillow and rutting harder. You shout, elbows flexing to no avail. “Give to me my purpose. Give me your heirs.”

He is helpless to stop the noises escaping his mouth, feral and uninhibited, fucking with near painful intent. You take it all, curving yourself deeper, holding yourself more open so that he may lay claim to his conquest. As only a king can.

“And when I have birthed one,” you say, though now it is more a prolonged keening sound, “give me another. Never stop. Oh! Make me—make me take it—”

He does not know if he is imagining it or if it is happening before his eyes, but he can see it: ruling the Seven Kingdoms, sitting the Iron Throne the way his brother never could, striding down the halls of the keep as the commons bow and scrape to their sovereign, bursting into his chambers after small council to find his queen, to find you where you always are, naked in his bed and belly round and leaking milky white between your thighs, for it is his kingly law that the only part you play here is this, waiting for him to find you and fuck you and fill you and keep you, his little niecewifequeenpet—

He snarls, pulsing and burning. You squeal as he pushes past onslaught and straight to violence, bodies colliding so forcefully that his bones ache and his brain feels like jelly wobbling in his skull. What leaves his mouth can only be bestial in nature now. “I’ll make you—”

“Yes, make me take it until I cannot. Until my cunt is ruined by you.” He feels his end rushing up with every word you wail, his joints locking and grinding and gut roiling with the anticipation of it. “Until my womb is destroyed. Until I bleed myself dry, my king. Only for you.”

“Wha—”

The horror of it escapes him, for it is too late: the release crashes on him like a tidal wave, shoving him below its surface and imprisoning him in its current. He makes a noise like a wounded boar, chasing through the high despite the alarm in his mind, so at odds with the soaring rhythm in his loins.

You laugh, tilting welcomingly to receive him. “Make me bleed, my king. Make me bleed like my mother.”

It is enough to chill the heat in his blood to ice, destroying any semblance of enjoyment. But he cannot stop the unsteady eking out of what remains of his peak. He tries, but he cannot stop.

“No,” he says, a contradiction to the enthusiasm of his flesh prison. “No, no, I cannot. No—”

“What do you mean?” you ask, a strange quality to it. A duality. It crystallises into something comprehensible with every word that comes from your lips. All at once, it is not your voice he hears, but something much higher, younger, blending and overlapping with the cadence he recognises. “You already have.”

He looks down as he makes his final groaning thrusts, only to feel his stomach drop through the floor. Your thighs are soaked in blood, his cock sluicing a path through it all the while. All that flesh covered in red, and he glances up, only to see that you are gone, you are replaced by someone so small, so frightfully small, and he realises you are not replaced, it is you, but it is a you he has not seen for well over ten years, eyes wide and frightened and gleaming like game stuck through by an arrow and taking its final breath.

Daemon rears back, but it is too late. You begin to cry. A dark patch spreads out from underneath your broken body, from where he had torn your fragile opening apart. What have I done? he thinks.

“It hurts, kepus,” you say. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, fixed to stillness by revulsion. “I’m sorry. I never meant to—”

“But you did,” you insist, childish pout despite your obvious agony.

Your hands reach out, and he leans away, too horrified to touch you—and he doesn’t know if it is you or he that he is more afraid of in this moment—but you are not searching through the air for him, no. Instead, a bundled weight is settled in them, and you bring it into the crook of your arms, gripping it as though it is the most precious of objects. You smooth the fabric from the top of it to reveal a tiny head of silver hair. The babe gurgles and roots at your flat chest, absurd and awful.

“This is what you wanted,” you say, eyes filled with betrayal. “Am I going to die now, kepus?”

Your Grace…

He shakes his head, but he is no fool. You are too little to withstand the sheer volume of blood you have lost if the bedding is anything to go by. He feels it stain his legs. He feels it drying on his cock.

“Your Grace?”

“I will, though. I’m too young. You’ve killed me.” The babe begins to suckle, and you cry harder. Your body isn’t built for this task, not yet, not like this. He wants to protest, to tell you that this is not his work, cannot be, for he has and would never do something so foul, so wholly inhuman, that the you he has gotten with child has only ever been a woman grown, but it is like you know his thoughts for you scoff and say, “You’re lying to yourself. I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He stares down at you, immobile, unable to even think. The metallic scent of your life leaving you fills the air, floods his nostrils with stinging heat.

“… Your Grace?”

Daemon jolts, blinking. Ser Simon Strong looks back at him. “Is the duck not to your liking, Your Grace?”

All at once, you are gone. The king’s chambers are gone. He is not even within his dank chambers at Harrenhal. Instead, he sits at the table in what passes for the dining hall here, a plate full of food steaming before him. The smell makes him ill.

“There’s also goose, if you’d prefer…”

He swallows, trying to ground himself in the present. Voices waft all around him, but he finds it difficult to pay attention.

“I’m not hungry,” he says shortly. It sounds stronger than he feels.

A pause, and then—

Simon clears his throat, turning to his companions. “I was saying, given the rather dire news…”

Daemon tries to concentrate. He does. He knows the others are speaking of matters of utmost importance. Of Rook’s Rest, of his nephew, of the war. But his mind can only turn over his encounter—his vision? His nightmare? Or is it merely truth finally unveiled to unworthy eyes?—with you, the last of your words haunting him near to madness.

“I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He has grown restless here, revolving between the frustration of securing an army from those who see naught in him but the very worst and the torment of these terrible visions that seek him out at their pleasure, heedless of his duty or desire. Tedium or terror—when he is entrenched in one, he wishes for the other, and there is always a sick sort of irony in the granting of said wishes. In truth, he is able enough to tolerate the resistance of these riverlanders, insulting as it is. The phantasms that pursue him have almost become too much to bear.

What is worse? The accusations from the mouth of a juvenile Rhaenyra, full of admonishments for the way he’d so thoroughly undermined her claim before she ever got the right to exercise it? The condemnations from Viserys, a retracing of steps trod so long ago, brought to life once more and forcing Daemon to relive the very worst of his brother? The boy’s laughter darting through the stone halls, an ominous prelude to the sickening sound of steel sawing through skin and the rolling of his head, landing always at the feet of the one responsible for his fate?

They are all bad enough as they are, but for the simple fact that they do not surprise him. Monster, they call him, and he wears the name well. In most all aspects, he is a monster. But never has he thought himself monstrous to you.

He has come to despise the sight of you here, sometimes docile and worshipful, sometimes angered and raving. Sometimes you appear as a siren come to lure him to iniquity, and like a fool he always falls into the trap. Other times, you are battered, caged, a shell of yourself. No matter how it begins, the end is always the same: bloodied, beaten, fading from the world, and it is always his hands he finds the cause of it in. A new reminder every time of all the ways he has thought of taking you, owning you, keeping you. Always, he thinks to save you—to protect you. Always, he destroys you.

Just as he thinks himself finally driven to the edge of all reason, the Rivers woman beckons him to the godswood.

“When you came here,” she says, “you were a closed fist. You wished to bend the world to your will. But you’ve discovered, I think, that… this world will not be governed. There are omens here for those who seek them.”

She pauses. The air seems to whisper, to creak in the dark. Daemon suppresses the urge to shiver. Her eyes move to him, an odd little quirk to her mouth. Amusement, he thinks. Or pity.

“You do not scoff?” she asks.

How can he, after all he has seen here? He has been brought to the very edge of sanity by these omens. What irony, it is, after the great complaints he has made of superstition in past weeks (and months, and years).

“I’m no longer inclined to,” is his short reply.

She laughs. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

She stops before the heart tree and turns to him, expression solemn.

“Do you wish, then, to learn what is given to you?” The answer must lie in his face, for he cannot do anything but stare, silent, tense. “All your life, you have sought to command your own fate”—she takes his hand—“but today, you are ready.”

Gentle pressure at his wrist, and something in him knows to move past her, to take those final few steps so that he is close enough to make out the details of the face carved into the wood. His arm raises by itself, acting on its own power, or perhaps some higher power, his fingers brushing bark and the hot pulse of… blood? But he has no time to truly question it for—

He is flying—

No—

He is a raven, staring at the face of a pale-haired man with a wine-dark stain on his face and he flies into the forest, towards an army, only there is something wrong with the soldiers, they are blue and their eyes glow ice-cold and their breath is frosted with death and their bodies carry the look of corpses stood upright once more—

And then the dragons are dead, all of them, the ground wet not with water but with blood and he walks through it, falls straight into the ground and he is drowning, steel plate armour dragging him down into the depths and he looks up at the sky—

A red comet bursts through the air, hot like fire, and he sees eggs embroiled in flame, a girl sat in ash cradling the bodies of three newly-hatched dragons, a whisper of a memory on the air, “we are the only ones able to bring the fire to life… It is the secret”—

And he is before the Iron Throne, suddenly silent.

Rhaenyra stands before the seat. Viserys’s crown is in his hands. She moves toward him, down the stairs of the throne. He hears her speak.

“From my blood…”

But she does not finish. A roaring conflagration engulfs her and she screams, twisting and warping before him, burning, only not, because you step from the flames, unburnt, voice mingling with that of your sister’s, a haunting echo.

“… come the Prince Who Was Promised…”

You are before him, taking the crown from his grasp and retracing the steps your sister took, and then you are stepping over a charred body, Rhaenyra, oh gods, and ascending the steps. You sit. You lift the crown. You place it on your head.

“… and his shall be the song of ice and fire.”

He is on his knees now, right on that final step at your feet. He feels the warmth of you as you bend forward, your palm caressing his jaw. You look otherworldly in the shadow, backlit silver and gold and wearing a king’s accoutrements far better than any of your predecessors.

“You know what must happen now, Uncle,” you say gently, kindly. “You know what you must do.”

He bows his head to kiss your ring—the seal of the king—no, the queen—and then wind is whistling in his ears, chilling him to the bone and spraying his hair about wildly, so much so that he can barely hear the words yelled at him by the boy sitting astride Vhagar.

“You have lived too long, nuncle.”

—and he wrenches away, panting, body collapsing before the heart tree like a puppet with its strings cut. The world comes back to him in fragments: the scent of dirt and woodlands, the sharp sting of cold, the ache in his muscles that has since settled like sludge at the bottom of a river, ever-present and persisting. Finally, finally, he withdraws with hands washed clean, free of his many sins.

At last, he has come to the crux of it. At last, he understands.

He sits at the base of the tree, stunned and overcome, as faint words slither on the breeze, a final knell from the liminal space of prophecy. Your name. A cheer.

“Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”

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eastsunbum · 3 months

Text

INVISIBLE STRING

pairing: stranger!matt x reader

summary : in which you and Matt had met as kids on a vacation, but lived too far away from each other. But some string pulled you together later on in life .

pt.2

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⤑ summer 2007

The Sturniolos had just recently rented a beach house in old orchard beach, connected to another beach house through one big yard. Three small blonde boys ran around in the grassy area, giggles filling the air.

You walked out, your older brother by your side. The summer breeze flowed through your hair as you went to go play outside.

You looked over to see three boys whispering, their eyes and heads looking in your direction. One boy shyly came up to you and your brother.

“Hi, I’m Matt. Wanna pway tag?” A little boy softly spoke.

“Mhm.” You quickly nodded your head, a small smile making it onto your face.

“What’s your name?” Another boy asked, now behind Matt.

“Y/N.”

“Cool well I’m Nick, dat Chwis.”

For hours you ran around with the four boys, your brother even joining in for a few rounds. New games were being created every minute, one you were playing red light green light the next you were playing what’s the time Mr.Fox.

“Here guys take a photo together so you’ll remember each other forever.” Your mom smiled and pulled out her camera.

She snapped a quick photo, you all quickly running away after she took it.

It started to get dark so yours and their parents agreed on one more game, hide and seek. You were currently hiding behind the girl next to your house.

Small footsteps flooded you ears and you stayed as still as ever hoping it wasn’t Nick, who’s seeking at the moment. Matt had come into your viewing, offering you a small wave.

“Can I hwide here?”

With a nod of you head he sat down but not before you threw up a symbol telling him to shush.

“You pwetty y/n.”

“Tank you.”

He looked both ways before quickly places his lips on yours before instantly pulling away.

“Matt, Chris, Nick bed time!”

“Bye Y/N, hope I see you again.”

With that he was gone in an instant, you hadn’t known what love had felt like, only being four years old. But already you knew he was your first love.

⤑ summer 2022

You had layed on your bed scrolling through old photos on your mom’s camera until you came across a photo of you and three random boys.

You tried to retract your memory, it all flooding back to you. A light gasp escaped your lips before transferring the photo onto your phone.

Hitting play on your tik tok, you went from your side to onto your stomach.

“Ok so quick background summer of 2007 I had went to oob with my family and we had this house with a shared backyard ok. I met these three little boys and literally one of them was my first kiss.”

I had now changed the background to a green screen of the photo I had just acquired.

“I have no memory of what their names were but tik tok do you thing, find my bffs and my first kiss.”

You smiled into the camera before ending it and posting it.

A few hours later you went to go check onto your video and had seen it completely blew up.

“Holy shit.” you muttered before clicking on the comments.

…view comments

user - OMG!! that’s the sturniolo triplets!

user - imagine your first kiss being one of the triplets!!

user - @sturniolotriplets @matthewsturniolo @christophersturniolo @nicolassturniolo

matthewsturniolo - hey! it’s my first kiss!

^ user - ahhhh it was matt

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guysss don’t flame me ik the endings bad, but this is my first imagine so i’ll get better as i keep writing

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo series #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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ryomens-vixen · 3 months

Text

420 w/ 90s Toji

CW: Toji himself is enough warning, rough sex, car sex, gun play, ass eating, profanity, reader is black coded and so is toji.

Author's note: If you have problem with me making toji speak in AAVE please don't hesitate to eat my fat ass about it, please and thank you.

Word count: YIPPIE Y'all finally get a word count! 2.6k ✨

Summary: If you ever wanted to get high the Toji here's your chance.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

How did you end up here? Going to pound town in the back of a Toji's big daddy truck, high as hell in a smoke filled truck- oh that's right you know how. It really started when you were out with the boys chillin- the boys meaning Satoru, Suguru, and Kento. You were watching them shooting hoops, Then the hood's hottest DILF and Whore pulled up with his kid- Megumi, he's such a cutie when he isn't mean muggin everyone and when he comes to his dad? Oh boy he doesn't play he's such a daddy's boy that Toji can't even pick up women without the lil boy tagging along. Megumi calls most of the shots anyways- if you're pretty to him that Toji will definitely fuck with you, if not? Ain't no use in talking to him, you're cooked.

Today T-Raw was up to no good as usual not only did he come to shoot some hoops, but he also came to pick up a couple of ladies to “take out” later on- Here is goes taking off that slutty tank top of his, not like he can ever keep his clothes on anyways, that fuckin slut- you couldn't stand him. You couldn't stand him because all he does is fuck around and drive all these bitches crazy about him- clearly his dick can't be that good to be chasing him around like that, or so you thought.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!”

Fuck how did you get here… oh yeah that's right, it really started when they was playing B-ball. Megumi kept looking at you and since he's practically his father's wing man you were hoping the lil boy didn't think you were pretty, then he spoke to you- talking about the dogs at their house to showing you his gold chain Toji bought him. But then it happened megumi ran off to go tell his dad about you.. Just your luck right? Riiiiight..

The whole game stopped because megumi had so much to say about you, hell he even told the guys you're his new mama because of how beautiful you are and it had T-Raw checking you out even Satoru gassed him up to go holla at you.

“Her? Oh that's y/n, you tryna fuck on her? Shit she hard to talk to, but on ma the pussy good as fuck she was just fuckin on me and Suguru last week.” Satoru had promised he'd never tell a soul that y'all fucked, but you have known that not even Satoru himself could hold a glass on water.

And just like that Toji was convinced enough to come see bout you.

“Wass good ma”

“..... “

“Hello? Mamas, So you sit finna talk to me? C'mon ion bite, baby.”

“Don't sit up here tellin them lies we all know yo ass bite.”

He chuckled, “Got a lil attitude problem. I like dat mamas. how bout you come smoke with me later on tonight.”

“I'm not one of these other bitches Toji so go find somebody to play with cause it ain't me.”

“Sound like you ain't had no dick Inna minute-”

“Maybe I don't want no dick from you!?”

Yeah, that's how it all went down. You were giving him too much lip that it was turning him on, that's why he didn't let up on you. He wanted to put you in your bratty ass place once and for all because clearly Satoru and Suguru didn't do it right. Naw you obviously needed some dick from big daddy himself, T-Raw.

Now here you are sitting in his truck getting hot boxed to hell, while Satoru and Suguru babysit megumi for that night, and man did you get the feeling neither of y'all would be able to make it home after this smoke session.

“You Eva put a blunt in yo pussy? I'll light for you- We gotta get fat ma blazed too yah feel me?”

What the fuck did he just say? “Toji shut the fuck up!” You have to admit that was pretty funny and wild to say at a time like this, but he isn't so bad right? Wrong.

You couldn't tell if it was the Kush getting to you or what, but with every minute that passed by he started to look more and more attractive. “Keep it together bitch” is what you thought to yourself, you didn't want to fuck around and find out why all his bitches were so crazy over him.

“So when you gone put that pussy on me, mamas?”

What the hell did he just say?

“I know she wet as fuck f'me, come climb on daddy's lap fo a minute.” this whole time his hand had been gripping your thigh close enough to your coochie. Yeah she was wet- soaking wet actually, but you weren't willing to admit that.. At least not verbally, because your body betrays you.

Before you knew it you had succumbed to his slick mouth, but it's not like you didn't fight about it. Oh but he loves a good ole brat- he loves the way they break once they've had a taste of his ten inch punisher and you were gonna break for him too.

“Bet you won't suck dis dick”

“Yeah I BET I won't, the fuck?”

“So all dat freak shit you do wit gang and nem just fo show, huh? Knew you wasn't bout nothin”

“Excuse me?!” How the fuck did he even know about that?! I bet Satoru told him, yeah totally never fuckin him again.

“You heard me, Ma. Chu ain't bout dat life fo'real.”

“Says who? I do what the fuck I want, when I want and who I want.”

“I betchu won't come fuck me then.”

“Bet!”

It all started with you giving him the best toe curling head he ever had, the way you kissed on the tip, licked him up from Gooch to tip, the way you suffocated on his dick, yeah you took all ten inches and he loved every bit of it “Fuck, y- you a nasty bitch” is what he groaned, he felt so good he took a chunk of your hair into his fist and held you still so he could fuck that throat of yours. You were his bitch now, you definitely weren't going nowhere sucking his dick this good.

You thought it'd stop at that no- you found yourself eating this man's ass like a full course meal, like you were hungry and it wasn't even your idea, it was his and you can thank his old bitch for that. Man was he a freak having his legs in the fuckin air, lighting another blunt while he watches you eat his ass. This was way out of your league, eating ass? Not even Satoru and Suguru made you do this, but at least you learned a thing or two from fuckin around with Mei Mei and Shoko one time. Honestly you were scared to even put your tongue down there, thinking he was dirty, but he was surprisingly clean.

“Dirty ass bitch get in the back, c'mon” he was ready, and you were nervous. We're you gonna be like all these other bitches that fucked him and started acting crazy, or were you gonna treat like you treat Satoru and Suguru? It was hard to tell because you never heard any complaints about Toji unless it's about him not answering his phone or talking to other bitches, the works.

“Bet yo dick ain't even that big-”

“Shut cho ass up and bend ova bitch I'll show yo ass how big it is.”

That was your mistake- bending over. Toji pushed your skirt up over your waist and wasted no time ripping those sexy panties off. Your pussy was dripping for him, spreading your asscheeks apart Toji took his cock in hand and rubbed it all along your wet folds, teasing you while you waited anxiously for him to fuck you- so anxious that you started popping off at the mouth again.

“Can't find the hole ol’ man?”

“Can't wait to shut cho lil ass up-”

“Pus-”

Then it happened he shut you up with the quickness, ramming all ten inches into that tight wet pussy of yours. It felt like your body took a screenshot from feeling his cock hit your cervix like that all you could do was tremble and tear up. You felt so full, hell you felt like his dick was somehow in your chest it was so fuckin big that you could hardly adjust to it.

Reaching back to place your hand on his abdomen was your biggest mistake ever “Move yo fuckin hand” is all he said before take ahold of your arm, bending it it behind your back and using his weight to push his cock deeper into you as if it wasn't deep enough.

The only thing that gave you enough relief was when he pulled out, you could finally breathe that was until he rammed his cock back inside… over and over and over again. He was so rough it felt like your mind was going blank all you could think about was how good your feeling right now, how deep his cock is, how your moans were practically stuck in your throat, toji had your eyes rolling back he even put his blunt out on your asshole so he could focus on fuckin you, god he was a nasty, nasty man, no wonder everyone was crazy for him.

The truck was rocking, you finally let out a strained moaned, Toji was fuckin you so ruthlessly leaving hand prints on your asscheeks, pushing down on your lower back to make you arch some more for him, grabbing fists full of your hair as he leaned his weight into every thrust. Your mind was going crazy, but you weren't the only one- Toji was too. Not only was he high as all hell, he was starting to get drunk off your pussy. He was loving how tight you were around him, squeezing and sucking him back into you- in his mind you were doing this on purpose, throwing that pussy- HIS pussy back on him like that yeah to him you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Man fuck! Fuck you let then two fools hit before me?! Fuckin slut” God he put his weight into it again.

“Lil bratty ass bitch got nothin to say now, say sumthin else, come bitch say some more slick shit for daddy so I keep on tearin this pussy up!”

You were past cloud nine at this point everything felt good, his dick, his words, his thrusts, everything. You almost lost your mind when he reached out in front of you and grabbed his gun. That's when you realized how crazy this man is- he pulled out a damn gun!? For what!? Now you see why everyone is so crazy about him.

“T- Toji Wa-”

“Shut the fuck up” he pulled out panting and started rubbing the barrel of it against your wet folds. “How you gone feel if I put this glock 30 in this pussy? Hm? Talk to me mamas, I'm not fuckin done witchu”

“Toji i-”

“It's T-Raw, bitch.” You trembled the second he pushed the barrel inside your pussy. You couldn't tell if you were scared or excited, but you knew one thing he sure as hell was excited just from pumping your pussy with his glock.

“You's a nasty dirty ass, bitch, throwin back on MY gun, bet it ain't as good as this mufuckin pipe.” He had a cocky tone to his voice while he was gripping the hell out of his cock and fisting it vigorously. “Fuck it-” he tossed his gun to the side causing you the whimper from the sudden emptiness, but that was soon replaced with him slamming his cock back in, then reaching around you to grab ahold of the sides of your mouth as he drilled you, drool on his fingers and arm rest, drool on his cock that's how he liked it.

You could feel a knot in the pit of your pussy, you were so close, tears welled up in your eyes, you were going to burst at this rate, if he kept up brutal pace he'll be cleaning up coochie juice for weeks with the way you around to cum. You reached in between your legs to rub circles onto your clit to help get you to that big orgasm you've always wanted..

“T- T-Raw! F- Fuck! Daddy I'm gonna cum!”

Toji was so lost in your pussy it was almost like he was in another world, You were just too good for him. It was driving him crazy. He almost didn't register what you said at first, you? About to cum? Yeah no he couldn't have that yet, not until HE is done.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!” Suddenly, He puts you into one of the meanest chokeholds you had ever been in, pulling your body onto his lap so that you're sitting on his fat cock with your legs propped up on the back on the front seats. Fuck he really wasn't done with you for real.

“Can't NOBODY fuck you like I do, you ain't gone be thinkin of nobody's dick, but mine after I'm done, you hear me bitch?! Take that shit, take it, take it, take it, Ah Fuck-!”

You couldn't breathe, your eyes were touching the back of your head, he was beating your pussy in and you couldn't do anything about it. His dick was good… too good in fact, he was slutting you out better than Satoru, Suguru, hell even Choso- but none of them know about that one. You could almost guarantee your brain chemistry has been altered just from the way he's trying to put his dick up your coochie, through your stomach and behind the left rib. All you could do now was take his dick like the good little bitch that you are.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

“Yes! G- Give it to me T-Raw! Give it to me Daddy!”

His thrust became sloppy and his grip around your neck tightened, he was definitely about to cum inside your sweet pussy, yet that's really you wanted now was for him to fill your pussy up with his baby batter. He let on one loud “Fuck” into your ear and rammed his dick inside you one more time, all you could feel so was his cock pumping his load inside you.

Once he was finished he let go of your throat, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. But the thing is you didn't get to cum yet and toji knew that and all he could do was smirk at your pouty lil face for not making you cum too.

“What? Yah mad bitch? Brats like yo ass don't deserve to cum.” He took his left over blunt and lit it.

“But since you was a good fuck I'll let you cum this once, but I ain't helpin, so bounce on dis dick all you want.”

“B.. But T-Raw”

“What the fuck did I just say? Huh? Get to fuckin bouncing, I'm waiting slut.”

You know it, you were going to be crazy just like all his other bitches after tonight… ain't no way you're going back to the boys, ever.

Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you

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bekolxeram · 3 months

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Continuing on the theme of things I've missed while S7 was airing, we have to talk about the (failed) first date. I admit it gave me too much second hand embarrassment that I usually skipped it on a rewatch. Once I managed to brave through that I realized I did miss something important, so here is another scene breakdown. Again, it's just my own interpretation.

The title of 7x05 is You Don't Know Me, that seems to be the theme of the episode: the Wilsons figuring out Mara's trauma, Eddie finding out Marisol's former nun training, Buck trying to navigate the whole dating a man thing, but they all end up making an effort to make the relationship work.

The date scene starts at the end of the actual date. We don't see much of the getting to know each other stuff, but judging by their faces, it's gone pretty well. At this point they don't know about each other's movie preference yet, so Tommy picks a place where they can decide on arrival, with Buck's input. That also signifies the nature of this date, they're literally "keeping their options open" and just seeing where it goes, without any major expectation.

Buck still seems visibly nervous, but Tommy reassures him that they're just two guys having dinner, it's a very ordinary thing that nobody cares.

Buck pretends he's at ease, Tommy points out he seems a little tensed, but he understands Buck's worry. Tommy speaks about the masculine nature of their job and tells Buck that people are more accepting than he thinks, which sounds awfully like it's from experience.

I think Buck sees it too, so he asks Tommy, who seems perfectly confident in his sexuality and masculinity, if he's been always out on a job. Tommy tells Buck about the 118 under G*rrard, this explains to the audience why Tommy seemed to be straight and a part of the boys club back in S2.

So Tommy was at least aware of or questioning his sexuality at the 118. Mr. "my girlfriend is totally coming next week" and "single is much easier than scaring women" was full blown lying about his sexual orientation. Chances are he does understand Buck's nervous fumbling, as he's probably done worse in the past.

Here comes the seemingly recurring theme of Buck making things all about himself, whether you agree with this or not, he does have a tendency to get stuck in his own head. Tommy assures him yet again that he's not accusing Buck of anything, he's just sharing his own experience to empathize.

Tommy looks a bit surprise when Buck tells him it's his first date with a dude. It's probably new information to Tommy.

And then Buck tries showing Tommy that he holds no prejudice towards queerness because he's an ally, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also one of them. Tommy tries to follow as much as he can.

Tommy senses that Buck is spiraling, trying to pull out random stuff just to bring the date back on track, so he flirts with him just to lighten up the mood and for the third time of the night, reassure him of his interest in him and the rest of the night.

Then Eddie and Marisol walk in, and Buck panics. I know Buck tells Maddie later that he "makes it seem like they were just hanging out", but if you go back to this scene, Tommy is the one who covers for Buck and takes the initiative to agree with Eddie and tell him they're just doing normal bro hangout stuff.

7 seaons in, we all know Buck doesn't have the best luck with first dates. The more he likes someone, the more likely it is for him to mess it up. So of course he has to self-sabotage here and drag Tommy into the closet with him, even though Tommy's already covered for him and Eddie is ready to move on. Tommy doesn't like mad here, he looks disappointed.

For what it's worth, Buck's hot chick comment actually makes things worse. Look at how confused Eddie's reaction is.

This snarky joke from Tommy has caused some controversy among part of the fandom. Some believe that Tommy could've outed Buck with it, but I beg to differ. Eddie knows Buck very well, Buck has always dated women. On the other hand, Eddie has never heard of Tommy dating a woman, he might have attributed it to the recency of their friendship, but that's why he immediately makes the connection in his head that Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him later in the episode. Even if Eddie had superhuman intuition and understood the double entendre of this closet comment, Tommy would be outing himself, not Buck.

Here is another controversial moment: Tommy doesn't explain anything to Buck until the Uber is here, and he just leaves him there. First, Buck is a grown man, he can get himself home, there is no concern for his safety. Second, Tommy has every right to leave the date if he doesn't vibe with it. When Tommy tells Buck he's adorable, I don't think he's referring to Buck's overall demeanor. I think he means that Buck's nervous fumbling into queerness doesn't scare him, he actually finds it quite endearing. But after reassuring him 3 times, even going as far as telling Eddie, someone they can trust, that they're just hanging out, Buck still feels the need to make the hot chick comment and push them both into the closet, Tommy realizes that things would not go any better if they continue the date. Buck has not fully processed the fact that he's bisexual and he's dating a man. I'm sure Tommy really likes Buck as well, he want to make it work, so to him, the best course of action at the moment is to take a step back and let Buck figure things out himself first.

To Buck this may sound like Tommy is letting him down easy, but I think Tommy is consciously not shutting anything down here. He absolutely will see Buck around, he's still Eddie's friend. Tommy knows they will have to talk about it in the future, but for now, it's best to put a pause on things just to give Buck some space to process. What Tommy doesn't know is that Buck has been dumped so many times that he thinks this is it.

Therefore, not only does Tommy never intend to out Buck during the date, he is willing to keep things ambiguous for Buck's comfort. Ultimately, it isn't enough for Buck, so Tommy takes a step back for Buck to figure things out on his own.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinley #911 abc #scene breakdown

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grlpartdoll · 20 days

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Part Two of this :] finally CEO price and boss Simon :] not proofread we die like men. Aarrrrmmm 18+ minors blocked on sight Nd there is filthy smut in here so if dat makes u uncomfy stay out!!

Your first instinct is to immediately go seek out your best friend, Soap — with whom you'd worked a good amount of years until you were transfered to the technical unit, and then to the role of assistant.

He lets you ramble as he works (Johny has a bad habit of always working on his lunch hour. You've tried to take it outta him, but he just won't budge, the stubborn bastard) and eventually pipes up when you mention the reason of your ire.

Simon. Mister Riley, as you call him.

"Simon's got you all work'd up? Really? The big ole brute?"

"You try working under him! He- he's like a giant six foot four body of grumpiness and inability to show a grain of appreciation!"

He looks at you, staring for what feels like forever until you let out a whole, long sigh.

"And unfortunately for me, he's also got.."

"That mug of his?" Soap whistles. "Woulda done it, if he wasn' so painfully straight."

You wrinkle your nose at that, shaking away the thoughts of the two of them being together.

You toss your fork back in your plastic plate, very much understanding that hell awaits you when you go back. Which, as you glance at the clock, realize that the time is ever approaching.

"Well. It will have been nice meeting you, Johny-boy."

He pats your head as he gets up, finally taking his eyes off of his screen and going to the nearby trash to dump all of your and his leftovers.

"It'll be fine. Just bat those pretty lashes at him and he'll let you off."

You kiss your teeth, cocking your head as you think maybe. Maybe, it could work for once. Though you're not sure there's anything soft of mellow underneath the constant armor he wears, your sure that... Well.. there is something.

You have to try. For the sake of your job and your livelihood.

When you step out of the elevator into the last level of the building — the technical unit's office space, as well as mister Price's office and now Simon's, you notice one thing. It's awfully quiet.

Usually, the technical team is quite chatty. Being made up of mostly young adults fresh out of high school, they always seemed to have something to laugh and giggle about. Which is why the silence now unsettles you.

You also notice, side-stepping the rows of empty desks, that the door to yours and Simon's office is closed, and the glass fogged up — thanks to the technology that allowed him by the click of a remote to make it so.

Usually, his office only goes on full lockdown when he's in serious board meetings, or when he's in a foul mood, and you're ready to bet it's the latter this time.

You chew on your lower lip anxiously as you knock on the glass pane. A voice tells you to come in, and you freeze a little when you recognize mister Price's voice.

You slip in, either way, forcing your frozen limbs to move and take you inside.

The door closes loudly behind you, glass panel knocking agaisnt each other. You clutch the papers you carried all the way up from the reception against your chest, wide eyes going itchy when you don't blink for too long.

"Here she is," Price smiles wide at you. He's sitting on the couch opposite of Simon's desk, a leg propped against the coffee table, and a cigar dangling from his lips.

Your former boss had always been fond of you — had always been so kind to you.— which is why you seek his eyes out first.

"Hi, mister Price." You manage through a right throat. You turn to Simon, who's already staring holes into you, examining you from head to toe, but taking special interest to your face for a moment too long. "I wasn't aware you had a meeting today."

"It was impromptu," John says for Simon, standing from his position. He walks to you, and lays his hands on your shoulders. Something he seems to do a lot — youve noticed when he's around other employees also.

He squeezes yours, maybe a bit too roughly, but nothing that shakes you to the core. If anything, it's a comforting touch.

"How many times have I told you to call me John, kid?"

"As many times as I've asked you to call me by my name, mister Price."

He laughs, loud and boisterous. He turns to Simon, who's still just... Staring. Price points a thumb at me, smiling with fully a fully reconstructed set of teeth, white and gleaming. Though they aren't uncanny like most sets of fake teeth, you can tell when he smiles like this that his canines are too unnatural to be his.

"Always liked her, this one."

"As you've mentioned." Simon practically grumbles.

Price tsks at him, shaking him off with a wave of his hand.

"Come sit with me." He tells you. And because you don't know what to do right now, you listen.

Once youre settled, and Price has taken another puff of his cigar, he clears his throat and gives you a more serious look.

"So. Simon here is telling me you're having... Problems."

"I—"

Did he have to bring the CEO into this? Really? You crumble a little, shoulders caving into yourself.

"I apologize for my words, mister Riley, I was.." you drift off, staring at your hands on your lap. It doesn't feel real at all, that you're here getting reprimanded by the CEO himself.

"This is not about you," the older man says after another puff, and it jostles you a little that mister Price pats you on the knee, keeping his touch respectful. You look at Simon to see if he notices, and his eyes don't let anything betray him. The only thing that gives you pause is the way his hands tighten around the edges of his chair.

"Pardon?"

"It's Simon here, who's been overworking my best girl."

"I—"

You don't know what to say. You stare at the both of them.

Price's left side of his lips tilt upwards at what he finds in your face.

"I told him, when I handed you over, to be good to you."

"Sir, Its really fine —" you say, if only because you don't want to lose your job.

Smoke from his cigar blows towards you, and you cough a little behind your hand, face flaring with heat.

"Quiet, dollie."

You frown a little at that, though an unsettling feeling does grow within you, lower in your stomach.

"Come here, Boy."

Simon moves from his chair, and it's sheer surprise that makes your spine straighten. You'd never heard anyone dare speak to him that way — like a.. dog.

Ghost stands before you, and it's really ridiculous how while you sit, you come face to face with his crotch, and how much you want to lick the buldge.

That thought alone makes you shiver, and you wriggle in your seat.

"Kneel for her, Simon."

A noise rumbles in your boss' chest, but he does, and when he looks up at you, you're starstrucked. He's so handsome, old and rugged, yes, but he is so beautiful. With bright eyes, sharp features and a long face, yet fitting face for all of his features.

And when he looks into your eyes, with those thin fluttery blond lashes, you find yourself not being able to deny whatever he is he's about to do.

A hand snatches your attention from Simon, calloused fingers softly putting strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Simon's gonna show you how sorry he is about being such a pain in that perfect fucking arse of yours, okay, dollie?"

"N-no, I- I don't think that's appropriate, it's really—" a squeak cuts you off as Simon wraps his big, beefy hands around the back of your thighs and pulls you into your back.

You settle heavily, hair like a hallo around you. You can only stare up at Price as he smokes, watching Simon hungrily watching what lays between your pretty legs.

"Such a pretty little thing," Price coos, still a hand on your head.

You don't know why, but tears prickle at your eyes, and your heart is beating out of your chest. You want this — and yet, somehow, youre afraid.

"Go on, Simon." Price orders, and as he does so, he manspreads on the couch further, making it so your head is basically laying against his thigh. Strong and thick, though a bit softer now that he's retired.

Simon grunts a little. "M'sorry, little dove.."

His fingers splays themselves open on top of your mount, a sort of reverant touch you're not all that used to. He toys with your underwear.

"Couldn't let y'go home. Couln't have y'going on dates with tha' manchild..."

"Mister riley—"

"Simon," he growls. "When m'head is between your thighs, it's Simon to ya', pretty."

"It's fine, you don't have to.." your voice is thin, and you don't mean it.

Price ticks his tongue as though he can hear the lies on your tongue. He rubs his hand through your scalp, soothing you. "Show the pretty doll just how much she deserves."

Simon lowers himself, and his lips trail up your underwear, where a wet patch is steadily growing.

"M'sorry, dovie." He says again, sounding everything but sorry. His fingers gently slide your briefs off, and his face flushes at the sight of you, his eyes going a bit more shiny.

You've never seen him that way — always the severe faced boss everyone wants to avoid. But like this.. it looks like he's infatuated and has nothing else on his mind but eating you alive.

His teeth surprisingly sink into your thigh, and you jerk, a noise like a mewl making it out of your mouth. Price shushes you gently.

When Simon pulls back, there's a mark, but you're not bleeding. It somehow makes your heart sore a little to see his mark.

"Don't tease th'poor thing," Price scolds, and you're watering eyes can barely see as he shakes his head at the younger man.

Simon growls, and shrugs. He digs in right away, lapping at you, holding your thighs so tightly you know it'll bruise.

His teeth rake only slightly against your bundle of nerves, and it has you jerking and crying out. Price quickly soothes you though, his now free hand that previously held a cigar rubbing your tummy, but also pressing it down so you stay still for mister Riley.

Simon is good, though. He eats you out like a man starved, and fucks your little hole with his tongue until you're gushing and crying and writhing against his mouth.

Even then he doesn't relent, and Price holds you, keeping you in place.

"C-cant—" you cry out, but Simon growls, and he, somehow, just goes harder, adding his fingers to the mix.

And then he's stroking that spot deep in you, his fingers unrelenting and rough in you, coaxing more orgasms from you.

At some point, you realize that you're seeing stars — literal stars. You can't feel your toes, and your legs on Simon's shoulders.

Simon only lets go because Price feels as you bite his thigh through his pants and pries him off.

Simon's face is slick all over the lower part of it, and he still looks hungry, fingers scissoring you open to look inside you. "Can't wait to fuck you open.." he sighs darkly, and you have to keen impression that he's not talking to you directly.

"Do you know how Sorry Simon is now, dollie? He'll be nice, won't he?"

Simon's eyes darken, and his lips curl. "Sure. G'nna be real nice to ha'."

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x afab!reader #john price x you #john price x reader #price x reader

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bloodypeachblog · 1 year

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The Tumblr Yandere Quintet (Peter, Sunny Day Jack, John Doe, Damon, and Alan Orion) - my personal headcanons SFW + NSFW

(TW: blood, knives, death, cannibalism, anything associated with yanderes will most likely be here, so you've been warned)

A/N: btw they coexist in the same universe here. Like, let's say they all live together in a house with Y/N. Why? Because I can. Also this is all F!Reader, so yeah.

~♡~Peter~♡~

• He is shy boi when it comes to you. He acts confident, but underneath he is lowkey panicking.

• But towards others, he is brat. Just, burns and roasts up the wazoo. It's like the person flips the switch and activates his bitch mode.

• he loves playing video games, anything that seem interesting to him. He loves Dead by Daylight and his favorite role is the killer.

• True Crime Aficionado. He listens to podcasts, watches documentaries and movies and YouTube videos, he knows serial killers' stories like the back of his hand.

• he can cook and bake pretty well. He's not Gordon Ramsay levels of good, but he very rarely makes a bad dish. He likes to make food for you and watch your reactions to it.

• as a boyfriend, he is such a hopeless romantic. Roses, poems, serenades (he's not confident in his singing voice, so he plays songs that say whatever he's feeling and sends you the youtube link to listen to them, or just blaring them on the radio outside your window), the whole shebang. Of course, he's not obnoxious about it. Just enough to make you swoon.

• You guys know that old famous photo of a soldier kissing his girlfriend after WW2? Yeah, Peter loves doing that to you.

• pet names for you: Darling, Honey, Baby, Princess, Angel. Basic stuff.

♡NSFW♡

• he likes to nibble on your ear. He loves your reactions to it.

• guy is a straight-up pervert. He'd grope you when you're alone and make dirty jokes. You'd blush tomato red each time.

• angel on the streets, devil in the sheets. More like incubus in the sheets. He will find ways to make you moan his name.

• WHAT DAT TONGUE DO THO? OH LAWD Seriously, when he eats you out, you swear you can feel the very tip of his tongue brush against your cervix.

• favorite positions are missionary, mating press, and doggy style. But he likes oral too, both sides. He loves feeling your warm mouth taking in his cock, he struggles not to cum right then and there. He loves your taste, he can't get enough of it.

•some nights he can be gentle, other nights he'll fuck you into the dirt.

• his cock is about 5.6 inches, good thickness. Not the dick of the gods, but still something to brag about. Very pretty, too.

• Knifeplay? On you, depends on if you're into it or not. On him, FUCK YEAH. He fantasizes about you using a knife to write your name on his chest. Getting cut gives him the biggest hard-on, he'd be already dripping pre-cum. And if you lick the cuts? Oh, this man will cum immediately.

• Anal? Hell yeah. If you're okay with it, of course.

~~~~~

~♡~Damon~♡~

• He's more chill and laid back. Also he's emo. Because I said so.

• He likes listening to music. He likes any genre, but he tends to leans towards emo bands, stuff from Lapfox Trax, and metal. But you play a country song, he will destroy the radio or debate on murdering the artist.

• He wears his puffy coat almost 24/7. I say almost because he can't wear it in the shower. He loves to share it with you, the whole two person in one coat thing couples do.

• he's a cuddle bug, but won't admit it. If you tease him about it, he'll deny it and blush.

• he acts like a kuudere to others, if not annoyed. But when with you, he's so sweet. He'd give you his umbrella if it's raining and you didn't have one.

• Dude can cook, if you can call preparing instant ramen in the microwave 'cooking'.

• This guy loves meat and chewing on bones, so I bet he is also a secret cannibal, but only eats his victims. Gotta get rid of the bodies somehow! He has Peter help with preparing and cooking the meat, but Damon never says where he got it. Peter knows, though, but he don't really care.

• pet names for you: Babe, Sweetie, Lovely

♡NSFW♡

• Favorite positions are you on top, and the position where you're on your stomach and he has your arm behind your back.

• He is SO loving and gentle most of the time. He just wants to make sure you're getting enough. You will cum many times before he even finishes.

• but once in a while, expect to be sore in the morning, some bruises here and there from how much he grips you.

• master of seduction right here. He will whisper in your ear the sweetest yet dirtiest stuff, maybe some erotica limerick/sonnet he found online. His voice is so smooth it makes your core tingle just by hearing it.

• his dick is pretty average, but it's not a bad thing. It gets the job done just fine and you're not complaining.

• he does have a bondage fetish. He loves to tie you to the bed and on special occasions, like your birthday, he'll tie himself up and let you do whatever you want.

• Anal? Nah. Unless you beg for it.

• dude loves meat, so... he has a dolcett fetish. (Don't know what it is? ...eh google it, I'm not your mom. But don't say I didn't warn you.) He never acts on it really [he may eat people, but he doesn't get off to it because he feels like he'd be cheating on you], but his phone and laptop has a folder with hundreds of pics/videos of dolcett porn. Sort of a guily pleasure fetish, emphasis on the pleasure.

~~~~~

~♡~Alan~♡~

• He is such a good boi. Sweetest boi in the world. Pure sugar cookie.

• he is the outdoorsy guy, hunting, fishing, camping, all that stuff. Dude lives in the woods.

• he's the one who brings home fish or game for dinner. Preps it himself in the garage. Expect to find some deer or birds hanging from the ceiling.

• he's a pro at bonfires. Knows all the different ways to burn wood.

• Cooking? He prefers to grill or cook over a fire. He sometimes indulges in Damon's choice of meats, but no one ever tells him what it is. So don't tell him. It'd break the guy...

• he is such a sweetheart. Asking if you're feeling ok, if you need any help with anything, just so considerate. Heavy follower of PDA.

• unashamed cuddler. When you two go camping, he has you in the same sleeping bag as him.

• HUGE astrology and astronomy nerd. He will talk your ear off about the star constellations and tell you your horoscope of the day and if you are compatible with him or anyone else in the group.

• pet names: Doe-Eyes, darling, honey, dear, love

♡NSFW♡

• he's more on the gentler side of things. Perfect candidate for your first time. He will comfort you if it hurts and praise you so much.

• favorite positions are where he can look at you splayed out and writhing in pleasure. Mostly missionary.

• man is a pussy eater. On bad days, he gives you puppy dog eyes and asks to eat you out. With those eyes, you can't help but say yes.

• he likes to nibble and bite. Favorite place to bite is your thighs. He can leave marks, but never breaks skin. If he does, he'll stop and patch you up.

• his cock is the smallest in the group, but not in general. It's pretty average, nothing to complain about. He's a grower, not a shower. You secretly find his cock (both erect and flaccid) adorable, but you never say that to his face.

• does he do anal? Only if you ask him to, but even then, he's hesitant. He will make sure you're prepped well.

~~~~~

~♡~Jack~♡~

• the ray of sunshine in the group. Always trying to cheer people up.

• he loves to give hugs any time, any day, any where

• he is such an 80s retro nerd. He has a collection of games and movies from that era. Favorite movies are The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Favorite arcade game is Dragon's Lair or Pac-Man.

• definitely the fashionista of the group. He loves to create outfits for you to wear, making sure the colors compliment each other. He does this for the other guys too, but some are not sure how to feel about it.

• dude is the kind of guy who would wear a nun's halloween outfit as his costume for reals and awaken some people while wearing it. He makes any outfit sexy.

• Cooking? He prefers to bake. Champion at breakfasts. Favorite thing to make is blueberry pancakes.

• Himbo. Just. Pure grade-A himbo.

♡NSFW♡

• bruh, this man will be cheery and bubbly during the day, total daddy at night. Holy shit.

• he will show you that you are his and only his. He's only sharing you with the other guys just to make you happy.

• man's got a body like Adonis. He's got a chest where he got man tiddies.

• his cock? HOLY FUCK. He's the biggest out of the group and he has to force his way inside you sometimes (this is canon, I swear, I've seen that clip). It is downright BEAUTIFUL. You swear, he is some sort of god.

• his favorite positions are 1) where you're both on your sides, him behind you, lifting your leg so he can plow you while kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings and dirty shit in your ear. And 2) that position where you're on your belly and he is behind you, raising your ass to him and he has your arm pinned behind your back.

• he is definitely heavy on the praise. He sees you as a goddess. Expect him to make you cum multiple times before he even gets inside you, just to make sure you're putty in his hands and ready for him.

• does he do anal? Fuck yeah he does. But he's very careful about it and only does it when you say it's ok.

~~~~~

~♡John♡~

• and then there's John.

• he's just a crack baby.

• sorry, John Doe stans. I just couldn't get that much on this guy.

• he's essentially the pet dog of the group. But it's fine, he's into that.

• he's pretty much a feral animal.

• is fueled by energy drinks and Doritos.

• he LOVES when Damon feeds him the special meat he's collected. He gobbles that shit up.

• dude snuggles you like a puppy. He can be cute and sweet when he wants to, don't get me wrong here. Puppies are always sweet and cute.

• hates baths. Y/N has to chain him to the tub in order to bathe him.

• usually stays in his room. He plays Call of Duty with Peter and loves to watch zombie movies. Favorite movie is Cannibal Holocaust and City of the Living Dead. Ruggero Deodato, Lucio Fulci, and George A Romero are his idols.

• Cooking? No idea how. Anything already prepared is perfect for him.

♡NSFW♡

• you into werewolf quality sex? John's your guy.

• expect tons of nail marks and bites all over you once you're done.

• man will make you bleed.

• some nights, the guys will hear you yell "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!!" from your bedroom.

• he will almost eat you alive, he's that feral.

• Does he do anal? Duh.

• favorite position is you up against the wall.

~~~~~

Yandere Quintet Dynamics

Peter & John Doe: Gaming buddies

Jack & Alan: Big bro (Jack), little bro (Alan)

Peter and Damon: Constant dick-measuring (metaphorically, of course) at first, but now partners in crime (oh they'll double-team ya). They like discussing true crime stuff, enough to where they have a podcast.

Damon & John Doe: Man (Damon) using dog (John Doe) to hide evidence.

Jack & Peter: total nerd buddies. Trivia night is horrible with them.

Jack & John Doe: kid being terrified of dogs (Jack), rabid dog (John Doe)

Alan & Peter: another big bro (Peter), little bro (Alan) dynamic.

Alan & John Doe: hunter (Alan) and his hunting dog (John Doe)

Jack & Damon: guy (Damon) is annoyed by the other guy (Jack), but secretly enjoys his company.

Damon & Alan: same deal as Damon and Jack, but Damon will kill anyone trying to hurt or be mean to Alan.

~~~~~

Aaaaand that's all she wrote! Hope you enjoyed this feast!

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nyanbin · 1 month

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ღ infrunami — p.wb

03. awesome cool bros of apt 7a

꒰ EPISODE LENGTH ꒱ 2.2k words (oops...me when dat exposition pill hit)

꒰ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱ texts at the end of the chapter! also i took it upon myself to change the blog names on my taglist based on who i saw replied/asked!! so if you changed your blog name lmk if you want a diff blog to be tagged or if you would like me to remove the one i put :D

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𖦹 APR. 28 (YEAR 1, SPRING) — 6:42 PM

FROM YOUR SPOT BY THE WINDOW, you eye your potential roommates at their table across the café, observing the three of them as they chat and bicker. One of them, a taller boy who looked to be the youngest of the three, was in the middle of swatting another boy’s hand away as he tries to steal a piece from the pastry on his plate.

Was this really going to be your future?

Begrudgingly, you have to admit to yourself: Eunseok was right, after all. This was an almost ideal situation. A nice building you were already familiar with, relatively low rent, and your friends living right down the hall. It’s just… three male roommates? You must be crazy to be even considering it.

But you’re not really in a position to pick and choose at the moment, because every other place you’ve looked at until now has been… subpar, to say the least. And you didn’t know how much longer you could withstand your current living situation: third-wheeling your roommate and her boyfriend for almost two-thirds of your day, every day, was not exactly a fun time.

This was the best you were gonna get. How bad could it be, really?

Steeling yourself, you downed the rest of your drink and got up from your chair to make your way over to them, your hands clutching the strap of your bookbag.

A single thought rings through your mind the whole way there: God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

None of them seem to notice when you approach their table, so you lightly clear your throat to get their attention. The first one you make eye contact with is the one you assume to be Wonbin, the doe-eyed boy who you had singled out to Eunseok earlier as “the one with the cute face.” With him in front of you now, you grimace inwardly. You would’ve never in your life confessed this thought to Eunseok if you had known you would meet him, let alone possibly end up living with him. When Wonbin notices you, he raises his eyebrows, blinking up at you. It’s a subtle gesture, but it has you nervously flitting your eyes to the other two boys’ faces, who are now also looking at you with similarly slightly surprised expressions.

You try a smile and a small wave, eyes scrunching in what you hoped looked like friendliness. “Hi… so—”

“Hey! You’re Eunseok’s friend, right?” One of the other boys speaks up before you can get another word out. “He must’ve told you we were here, too. I’m Sungchan, by the way; nice to meet you!” He has a toothy smile plastered on his face.

Flustered by his eagerness, the script that you had written in your head in preparation for this interaction dissipates into thin air. You blink at Sungchan for a few moments before coming up with a response. “Oh, um, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

The other two boys introduce themselves to you as well. The one to the left was the one you had correctly assumed to be Wonbin. His introduction is curt, just his name spoken with a single corner of his mouth upturned. In the middle of the three was Anton, who seemed slightly more bashful, but still personable with the way he smiled up at you. Remembering his name from your conversation with Eunseok redirects your mind to the matter at hand, and now you’re trying to find a way to break the news to the three boys.

“I don’t know why Eunseok never introduced us!” Sungchan continues as you deliberate your options. ”I’m glad you did it yourself, I was worried he might never do it. And I don’t know what he’d do if we had approached you ourselves.” He ends his thought with a short, nervous laugh.

Wonbin, who you have been avoiding eye contact with the whole time, seems to realize you’re still standing over them, nervously fiddling with the strap of your bag. “You can sit, you know,” he murmurs, gesturing to the only empty chair left at the table.

You hesitate, but then nod sheepishly before taking a seat. Wonbin looks at you as you do so, as he sips on the straw of his drink, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. On the other hand, Sungchan and Anton seem eager to get to know you, seemingly having forgotten their current commitment.

Looking at their enthusiastic expressions, you figure you should tell them now or you might never get to, so you speak up before they can say anything. “Hold on, just—give me a sec,” you take out your phone and show it to them, the screen opened up to your text messages with the unknown number you now know to be Anton. “You guys are here for the apartment, right?”

They all lean in, peering at your phone screen. You watch their eyes flicker down as they read the messages, biting your lip as you await their reaction.

“Huh? So you… you’re the one who texted?” Anton asks first. “Oh my god, I forgot we were even here for that. I figured they just weren’t gonna show up after waiting for so long.”

“We told you, Anton! You should’ve at least figured out their name first!” Sungchan says, chastising Anton with a light slap to his shoulder. “Now, look what’s happened. Hey, at least this got us to finally meet, huh?” he continues, turning to you, laughter lacing his words. Wonbin seems to find it amusing, too; he has a slight grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yeah…” You inhale through your nose, exhaling as you say your next few words with uncertainty. “Well, I’m still interested, actually.”

The three of them stare at you, dumbfounded. “You still… want to move in? With us?” Sungchan asks slowly. His mouth is slightly agape, but the corners of his mouth are upturned in bemusement.

“I know, I know. I almost just gave up and left without talking to you guys when Eunseok said it was you three,” you say, hurriedly trying to explain yourself. “But, listen, I’ve been looking for a new place for ages and this is literally the best one I’ve found, and I don’t know when—or if—I’m gonna be able to find one as good as it. And I hate to have to plead my case, but I promise I’m a really good roommate, like the best! If it helps, Eunseok would be living, like, 50 feet away from us and I’m friends with the other guys, too! I just really, really, need this…”

The three of them blink at you as you add a final, desperate, “Please?” They then turn to each other, and you sense they might have wordlessly agreed to something. Sungchan holds a hand up apologetically as they all stand, saying, “Sorry, give us a minute. Bro huddle.”

“That’s not a thing. We don’t do that,” Anton says, shaking his head, a frown on his face. He’s still waving his hands in denial as he’s pulled into the huddle. “Don’t listen to him.”

With their backs turned to you, Sungchan decides in a hushed voice. “So… she seems cool. I vote yes.”

“Dude, we’ve barely just met her,” Wonbin retorts.

“Well, yeah, says the one hardly even talking to her.” Wonbin opens his mouth in protest, but Sungchan continues without letting him defend himself. “Besides, if she’s friends with the other guys, I’m sure she actually is cool.”

“I don’t know, man. It’s just—she’s a girl, you know?” Wonbin says. When the other two boys squint their eyes at him, he waves his hands, hurriedly saying, “I didn’t mean it like that! I just feel like living with a girl would be completely different. I mean, have any of you guys lived with a girl?”

They all pause to ponder his point, since, after all, he was right: none of the three boys had sisters. Then, Sungchan’s eyes light up and he snaps, remembering something. “Hey, didn’t you live with your ex before, Wonbin?”

“What?” Wonbin raises his eyebrows at him. “Do you mean the trip I went on with her family? All we did was sleep in the same house for like… three days.”

“That’s basically living with a girl!” But Wonbin, obviously, is still not convinced.

“Well, I think she seems nice, too,” Anton interjects. “And I feel like she’d be a better roommate than the both of you combined.” He shrugs as the two older boys shoot him a glare. “I’m just saying; I don’t see how this could be a bad thing. If anything, she’s the one who practically poured out her heart and soul to us. We have no reason to turn her down!”

“Dramatic much?” Wonbin teases, and Anton scrunches his nose at him with a pout.

“In any case, that’s a 2-to-1 vote, Wonbin,” Sungchan declares. “You lose.”

Wonbin sighs, defeated. In truth, he wasn’t exactly sure why he was against you living with them. Like Anton and Sungchan, he found your demeanor to be actually quite charming, and he could easily see himself being friends with you. Yet, there was something about you that made him feel… nervous? Skeptical? Whatever it was, it was evident in the fact that he had spoken very little since you had approached them. But he chalked it up to him just being unfamiliar with you, a friend of a friend who had just offered to be their new roommate, and that whatever he was feeling would fade away soon.

Still seated at the table, you watch them murmuring to each other, nervously drumming your fingers against the tabletop. They break off the “bro huddle”, returning to their seats with serious expressions as if they just came from a very important executive business meeting.

There’s a beat of silence as you await their decision, and then Anton says, “Alright, you’re in.”

“Really?!” you exclaim, thrilled despite your apprehensiveness just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, just to make sure, though,” he says, eyebrows raised and lips pursed, “you’re certain about this, right?”

It dawns on you they’re probably looking out for you, since, even though this apartment checks a lot of things off your list, a girl living with three guys was still not the most ideal living situation. But this considerate gesture makes you even more appreciative of your future roommates, so you eagerly assured him, “Yeah! I’m one hundred percent sure!” (Definitely an overestimate, in retrospect.)

“Okay, cool, let’s talk details then!” Anton exclaims, clasping his hands together and setting them on the table. He goes into a spiel about what to expect once you move in, talking about things like the rent, the fussy old landlord, and how the garbage disposal has been broken for weeks now but they’re all too lazy to call a plumber so they resort to shoving a broom handle down there whenever it gets backed up. (A little concerning to you, but, hey, if it works!)

“Oh, and one last thing: you’ll have a room to yourself, obviously, but you’re gonna have to share a bathroom with Wonbin. Is that fine with you?”

You glance at Wonbin, who gives you the faintest of smiles. Ironically, he was the one you felt the least at ease with at this point, given his lack of engagement compared to the other two, but you had zero inclination to complain about such a small thing now. Besides, you were sure that this arrangement would somehow force the two of you to bond, in one way or another. “Yeah, I’m cool with that. My apartment right now only has one bathroom so I’m pretty much used to it.”

“We can show you around the apartment some time this week, if you want! When do you think you can move in?”

“Well, I’m busy with classes at the moment so I don’t think I’ll have enough time until, maybe, around the end of the week?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Anton proclaims, smiling with his eyes. Sungchan excitedly offers you an outstretched hand, ready to seal the deal, and you take it with a smile. You glance at Wonbin expectantly, but he still doesn’t say much, just offering a soft, quiet “congrats”, before leaning back into his chair. He seems content with being mostly an observer as you, Anton, and Sungchan get further acquainted with each other, only chiming in every now and then to make an offhand comment or give a brief response to one of your questions.

Sungchan, at one point, half-jokingly asks, “Okay, real talk though, who do you think’s the most attractive out of the three of us?”, causing Anton to jokingly grab the front of his t-shirt as if to fight him in your defense. To your surprise, Wonbin joins in, playfully wrapping an arm around Sungchan's shoulders in a half-headlock and ruffling his hair with a fist. Sungchan cries out in complaint, eliciting a fit of giggles out of you, your shoulders shaking as you watch the three boys grapple at each other.

It’s not something you would’ve expected from yourself half an hour prior, laughing and getting along with three boys who you had not only just met, but who were also going to be your new roommates within the week. But, hey, you figured that things change, right?

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꒰ AUTHOR’S NOTE ꒱ this took forever me to write for no reason sawryyy 😭 it also turned out WAYY longer than i was expecting but what can i say i am a yapper at heart (p.s. spot the new girl reference? :3)

꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ open! leave an ask or comment to be added :) (strikethrough = can’t be tagged)

@parkwonbinie @icyona @yoursyuno @onlyhyunjin @naviiy @eepiestgirl @jvngw0nlvr @i03jae @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @annswwa @secretiny @pxnklover @yipyipmorals @mumeimei @planethyuka @soheendo @film-sea @suzayaaa @molensworld @revehosh @winuvs @wonychu @shoberi @nujeskz @swagpersonthings @byeonwooseokabs @5telephones @gyehyeonist @snowyseungs @pinklemonade34 @bunni @fae-renjun @enhacolor

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noeou · 2 years

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DATING ADVICE 4 DUMMIES.

asking your crush for dating advice, only to use it on them.

includes: ace trappola, jamil viper, and floyd leech. ( x gn!reader )

next parts: currently unavailable.

contains: pure fluff headcanons and drabbles. more old formats because this is an old prompt, may come back to this format tho.

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’s far from experienced when it comes to this so he’ll also suggest going to trey or cater, even vil! but his heart couldn’t take helping you win another’s.

if you insist, he doesn’t want you to get embarrassed when you attempt to ask the person out so he gives you very basic stuff instead of bad advice.

though he wants to give you bad advice, as mean as it sounds.

he gets a lot quieter and fidgety, finding every excuse to leave in the least obvious way possible (spoiler: he failed.)

“hey, can i ask you a question?” you asked, feet falling into step with his as you made your way to your next class.

“yeah yeah, shoot!” ace slung an arm around your shoulder as you walked, so you’d not get swept away from the oncoming crowd of students.

“ah, well.. you see, there’s this boy—”

“‘s he giving you trouble?” ace raised a brow curiously, subconsciously tightening his grip around you.

“no no, nothing like that.” you hid your smile, letting out a sigh. “i need your advice… asking him out. like on a date.”

ace’s arm became dead weight around you, immediately pulling away from you.

he hesitated, filling the silence by clearing his throat, covering his frown with his now free hand. "oh. i think i understand."

an innocent joy laced into your features; if this weren't the context, there wouldn't be a bittersweetness in his heart at the sight of it.

"so you can help me?" you asked.

"no." he crossed his arms, watching your enthusiasm disappear. "why on earth would you come to me for that? trey and cater are ten times better at this kind of stuff."

you sighed, "it doesn't matter, you must have something!"

“yeah, i guess. ask them to meet you at sam’s or something. then take them where you please, when they say yes.”

“you think they’ll say yes?” your grin returned at the thought of it.

“mhm, imma head off.” ace nodded as to say goodbye, wanting to put a distance between you both as soon as possible.

“wait wait—” you grabbed his wrist, panickedly, “i won’t get the chance to request an audience at sam’s if you run off..”

“you want moral support?”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, “no, think more… outside the box, as they say.”

a mess when he puts the dots together. during last block before dismissal, what you were implying clicked. the thought of it made focusing near impossible.

best believe he was the first one out of class and was early to meet you at sam’s.

still, any person that approached the shop gave him a sense of nervousness that he may have misread the situation.

“oh my.. i invited you here and you got here before me. were you waiting long?” you placed your bag on the table ace was seated out, desperately searching for the courage you had this morning.

“just ask me.” had deuce not slipped up about ace’s reciprocated feelings, you would’ve misinterpreted his glare for anger.

sheepishly you chuckled, “wh— uh, well… if you know what im gonna ask, why don’t you just answer?”

not that he’d admit, he wanted to hear it from you but this’ll do for now. confirming his suspicions, his cold gaze melted to a warmer one. one you preferred more than the former.

JAMIL VIPER

much like ace, he thinks worst case scenario. i mean, what are you supposed to think when your best friend asks for ‘boy advice.’ but once you clarify, he still couldn’t be more confused.

while he wanted to recommend focusing on school, he wasn’t completely sure if he wanted it for your success or his selfish hope.

withholding his thoughts, he recalled what he remembered the romance movies his sister would watch at home, as if they were realistic.

it wasn’t his intention to give you the worst advice possible, he just didn’t know what else to tell you.

maybe asking jamil for dating advice while he was on an unstable ladder, helping you polish one of the many dusty lightbulbs in ramshackle wasn’t the smartest idea.

he almost fell and hurt himself because of the mini heart attack you caused him.

“ow.” he sighed, grabbing his ankle.

in a rush you went to grab him an ice pack, apologizing profusely, “where does it hurt?”

jamil studied your expression as you put pressure on his ankle with the ice pack, still going on with apologizes.

it was times like this that made him think that your feelings were for him, but it could be a misunderstanding on his part.

“who is he?”

you looked up at him, confused.

“it will affect my answer.” he sighed.

“oh.. i, uh. you can’t know.” you pulled back, awkwardly.

the silence held an unfamiliar undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

jamil struggled to his feet, looking anywhere but you, “i’ll head off now, i’ll take the necessary herbs to prevent swelling. thank you for your time.”

the rest happens over text, late into the night. yes, he was still thinking about it then.

when you used the advice on him, he thought you meant to text someone else (something kalim does often.)

he’s very relieved, in the end. don’t let him forget how nervous he was when you originally asked, though.

the brightness of your lock screen lit up your dark room with a ‘ping!’ you didn’t know how to react to the message you reviewed this late into the night.

jamil: just ask him.

after a few deleted messages, you managed to ask him why he was still up before placing your phone back down.

jamil: can’t sleep.

____: wanna call??

jamil: i cant

[ you reacted with a ‘?’ ]

____: is smth wrong why are u being so dry wtf ??

____: don’t leave me on read.

____: i need to call u to tell u smth

____: oh come on

____: fine i like u

[ you blocked this number ]

not even ten minutes later, you could hear the clicking of pebbles against your window.

you peeked out and were greeted by the vice house warden. quickly your grabbed a paper, scribbling something on it and taping it on there.

were you petty for taping ‘Read at 11:28PM’ on your window? yes. would you get scolded for it tomorrow? yes. but it’s worth it.

FLOYD LEECH

funny enough, he was just asking jade for advice on making you take a hint. you don’t understand how badly jade wanted to snitch, but your conversation was already so awkward, it hurt enough.

definitely tried to put on the ‘heartthrob’ act, only making it cheesier than necessary. he didn’t really give you any advice, more of like reasons you should date him instead.

he hadn’t a doubt it was him you wanted to ask out, but he wanted to seal the deal (if that makes sense.)

“hey, shrimpy!” floyd waved enthusiastically at the sight of you.

a smirk made its way on jade face as he greeted you, “y/n. can i get you anything?”

“no, i’m alright. thank you, jade.” you turned towards the other, “i wanted you— i need to speak with you.”

ignoring the ‘he’s already yours’ from jade, floyd whisked you off to talk in a more private setting.

“what’s up?” he asked, using your shoulder as an armrest.

you looked up at him nervously, “i was wondering, say.. well, actually let me ask; have you ever had a crush before?”

“yeah, you.” he replied nonchalantly.

your face became warm at the thought of the different implications the statement held, choosing the safest one. “me? well, yes i have as well. or i do, present tense.”

“what are you talking about, shrimpy? i didn’t ask anything.” he returned.

“nevermind. i just wanted to ask will you—”

“yes.” he teased once more.

“no.” you nervous gaze turned into one of irritation. “will you give me advice for asking someone on a date, romantically.”

for the first time, the eel was genuinely surprised. “it’s not me?”

while you weren’t a liar, you couldn’t admit to it yet. you’re plan did backfire, but you’d be sure to have the last laugh.

when you went to thank jade for his words of wisdom, you didn’t notice his twin behind you. the amount of teasing you received made you regret going through with it.

bragged to azul and jade nonstop about it later, honestly, as he should.

“what is that i hear, shrimpy?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice.

jade let out a chuckle, prompting you to toss your napkin at him.

“hey, floyd! long time no see.” you waved awkwardly.

floyd slid into the booth seat across from you, “did you seriously ask my brother for advice on asking me out?”

“like you didn’t do the same.” jade glared, “kicking me won’t shut me up.”

“anyways, have i told you how adorable you are, shrimpy?”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst fluff #ace trappola #ace x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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miley1442111 · 6 months

Text

back to chicago part 2- c.berzatto

a/n: part 2!!! i imagined a fem reader and it's mentioned quite a few times but as usual, imagine what you like. SET AFTER SEASON 2

summary: a double date with your boyfriend at the Bear can only go well, right?

pairings: carmenberzatto x femreader (complicated relationship), platonicthe bear x reader, romantic oc x reader

warnings: general angst, mentions of mikeys death, breaking up, bad family relationships, etc.

PART 1

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You

Dinner was delicious. The conversation was good and you had almost pushed the drama of earlier out of your head. You’d stayed till close to continue the talking and only now you were packing up.

“Bug!” Richie called after you as you put on your coat. “You guys wanna have a look at the kitchen?”

John and Emilia nodded and you obliged them as Adrian sighed, squeezing your hand with his own.

“Sounds good Rich,” You agreed and Adrian helped you remove your coat, then put a hand around your waist, holding you close.

“Why do I have a feeling this will end in tears?” Adrian whispered and you shrugged.

“Nothing we can do about it now.”

You got the tour of the kitchen and truly, it was impressive. It was beautiful and clean, and you got to see everyone else. Marcus, Tina, Ebraheim, Neil, and Sweeps. You met Sydney, she seemed nice but reserved.

“This is your boy?” Tina smirked and you nodded. “He’s pretty.”

Adrian chuckled and smiled at her, “Thank you.”

Then it came to Carmy. He smiled at you as your friends introduced themselves, then wrapped you up in a ‘bear’ hug. It shocked you, yet you reciprocated all the same.

“We have some catching up to do,” he said once you pulled away. “You guys are welcome back here anytime.”

You stared at Carmen, his arm around your waist, making this choice for you. Richie led John and Emilia through the rest of the kitchen, out of earshot from your conversation.

“I should really go back with Adrian, I’m tired-” You started but Carmen cut you off.

“It’ll only be a little while, you should stay,” He smirked as Adrian’s jaw ticked.

“Yeah, you should,” Adrian said, ‘challenging’ Carmen. You rolled your eyes.

“Carmen, if you only plan on comparing dicks with my boyfriend right now, count me the fuck out. You said it yourself, we never dated. Now, if you’d genuinely like to catch up with me I’d be happy to get coffee tomorrow, but right now- I’m fucking tired. Goodnight Carmen.”

Carmen looked down, clearly embarrassed. “Coffee tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll come by at 10. Goodnight,” You left his hold on your waist and grabbed Adrian’s hand, stalking out of the restaurant.

“Well he’s a delight,” Adrian sighed, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“I don’t want you to go see him tomorrow,” Adrian admitted, pulling you aside. You chuckled, thinking he was joking. He was never one to be possessive in any way or ask you not to wear or do things. His glaze hardened and your laughter died down.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes I’m serious! He’s a dick! You don’t owe him anything!” He whined.

“He’s practically family,” You said matter-of-factly and dropped his hand.

“Oh and look at how great the rest of your family is!” He snarked, then his face dropped as you felt the stab of deep hurt he’d just caused. “Baby, I-I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Fuck you. We’re done.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carmen

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not when I knew I was seeing you the next day. I had gotten to the Bear nice and early to do all my lunchtime prep so if our coffee dat- thing went overtime I wouldn’t be chewed out by Richie.

“Cousin!” Richie shouted.

“What?!” I shouted back, sweat coating my palms as I wrote down recipes and anticipated your arrival.

“Bugs here! Come on!”

It was 10:02. You were technically 2 minutes late. I got up and out of my office, grabbed my coat and sped to the front of the restaurant, almost tripping myself in the process. And there you stood. Angelic as ever. I had made an effort with my appearance that day, thank god. A cream sweater I’d bought in New York, dark jeans I knew you’d appreciate since you knew about jeans, and I’d washed my hair this morning and put in some products Sugar had gotten me for Christmas, though I’d already sweated it out by 10:02.

“Hey,” I smiled.

“Hey,” You sighed, clearly more sombre than I was hoping.

This was going to be difficult. “You alright?” I asked as we walked outside.

“Great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Wonderful even.”

“What happened?” He asked, trying to hold back from the question that wanted to fall out of his mouth so badly.

“It doesn’t matter,” you laughed, but it was humourless.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with that guy then?” I had asked and you had glared at me. I sent my cheeky smile to the floor and held up my hands in surrender. “Just askin’.”

“Yeah, don’t,” We both laughed that time. It felt good. It felt normal. Everything felt right for the first time in years.

“Seriously, what is his deal?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

“You mean my boyfriend?” you smirked, not telling him you’d broken up. It was quite the rash decision, something you weren’t used to.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“Well, he’s an accountant, we met at a jazz club a few years ago,” you explained.

“Anything else?”

“He’s nice?” you smiled. “He’s reliable.”

“Oh, so you don’t like him,” Carmen smirked and you scoffed.

“Fuck off,” you jested. “It’s complicated.”

“How? The dude is obsessed with you,” he shrugged. “What makes that complicated?”

“The fact that I broke up with him last night,” You admitted, rolling your eyes when Carmen looked at you with a wide-eyed expression. “Do not flatter yourself Carmen. He was being shitty.”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Carmen half-lied. “I just… I’m surprised.”

“I’ll probably go back later and apologise, and we’ll kiss and make up as usual.”

“This happens regularly?”

“No,” you admitted. “But he does do shitty things sometimes, then apologises.”

“Shitty like what?”

“Stuff like…” you didn’t want to tell him. “Look it doesn’t matter, all that matters is us right now,” You smiled at him. “Tell me about the Bear.”

“That shithole?” he joked and it finally made you laugh.

“Yes, that shithole.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After two hours of catching up with Carmy, you started walking him back to the Bear.

“When are you heading back to New York?” he asked.

“Soon, I guess? I do have clients to get back to but… I don’t know. I love Chicago.”

“You should stick around,” Carmy smiled. “You brighten up the place.”

“I don’t know if my back will survive staying at hotels for too much longer,” you chuckled.

“Stay at mine,” he offered immediately.

“You’re sure?” You asked, shocked at his level of generosity.

“Of course. I missed you. I’ve always missed you.”

You stared at him for a moment, standing outside of the Bear. You weren’t used to this level of emotion from him. “I missed you too, Bear.”

He pulled you into a quick hug and you kissed his cheek, then walked on, much more to think about than before.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff

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pablitogavii · 1 year

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Prank wars Pt. 2

Summary: Yet another prank you pulled on Gavi..;)

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: smutty smut ;))

"Girls you are crazy! He's gonna get so mad at me!" you whine as your friends suggested yet another prank for you to pull on your boyfriend.

Since last time (which you definitely enjoyed a lot!) you were getting used to being the prankster in the relationship. It was fun testing Pablo's limits sometimes..

"Yeah but he might fuck you like a beast again!" Sienna smirked and Aurora closed her ears being disgusted that we were talking about her little brother like that.

"How are we supposed to make it happen anyways??" you said and they shared the whole plan with you smirking when you finally agreed.

The plan was to talk about "faking orgasms" just as Pablo comes home so that he can hear it...and see what he might do about it.

It was 9pm, right around the time Pablo finished with his trainings and when you heard front door opening up you started your planned chit chat.

Pablo unloaded his bag tossing sweaty jersey into a laundry basket ready to hug his girls after an exhausting dat of training. He slowly walked towards the living room wanting to surprise you but instead he heard your friends talking about an interesting topic.

"Have you ever faked an orgasm with Pablo?" one of them said and Pablo smirked knowing the answer to that question anyways. He quickly became a pro in making his girl cum hard and he takes quite a pride in that.

"Yeah...I do it often" your answer almost made him choke on his own saliva as his presence became known to the group of girls.

"Amor! Welcome home, cariño" you were quick to rush to hug him and kiss his lips which he did not try to kiss back saying he was going to shower and sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about what you said...you fake orgasm with him often? How did he not know that!?"

"Do you think he heard it?" you come back and they all nod including Aurora who smirked and said that her brother was definitely going to be pissed about this one.

"Alright, let's go ladies...our girl is gonna be busy tonight!" Sienna jokes and you laughed shaking your head and walking them to the door.

"Amor! They left. Come to the living room" you called cleaning up behind your little hang out and he walked from the bedroom in only his grey sweatpants and shirtless with wet hair...he was fresh out of shower and he looked delicious.

He sat on the couch turning on TV and watching some old football game completely lost in thought. He had never felt worse than right now, feeling like a complete disappointment.

You came back from the kitchen sitting besides him while tossing your legs over his lap and running your hands through his wet curls. His eyes were glued on the TV and form the way his jaw was clenching, you could tell he was pissed off.

You slowly moved closer starting to kiss from his sharp jaw to his neck and he closed his eyes feeling himself getting hard when you found his weak spot but couldn't get in the moon with the new knowledge he learned pulling away from your instead.

"What's wrong??" you play dumb a little guilty to prank your boy but you knew he will soon give a reaction.

"Nothing.." he just said continuing to watch the game you both knew he didn't give two shits about.

"Then come here...I missed you papito" your voice hot higher just the way he liked it and it was harder to hide the clear hard on in his sweatpants.

"I missed you too princesa.." he said but his hands were still not making an attempt to touch you and you were starting to grow frustrated. You moved to straddle his lap rubbing your wet panties against his hard on and he winced placing his large veiny hands on your ass out of instinct and you smirked kissing his lips again.

"Then show me.." you whisper into the kiss and just when he was starting to relax those words start echoing in his head and he pulled back removing his hands from your body.

"So you can fake an orgasm with me again!?" he said through gritted teeth and you smiled moving your head to the side which was only angering him more. Was this funny to you!?

"Amor.." you tried but he cut you off angrily

"Don't 'amor' me Y/N! Why didn't you tell me!? Better yet, why did you tell your friends who are going to tell all my friends how shitty I am at fucking my girl!?" he was freaking out and you thought it was enough

"Pablo." you tried but once again he wouldn't let you talk

"I'm shit! I can't even make my own girlfriend cum! And when people start talking everyone in the world is gonna know my girl fakes orgasms with me!" he was freaking out so you did all you could to shut him up and kissed his lips roughly which took him by surprise.

"It's a prank idiot! Do you think I can really act that well!? Like you got me screaming on top my lungs most of the nights anyways.." you say with blushed cheeks and demeanor changed as his hands grip your ass tightly making you wince.

"You think that's funny do you princesa!? HUh!" he screamed slapping your ass roughly and you moaned excited to see dominant Pablo surfacing once again.

When you didn't reply he spanked you again while carrying you to your shared bedroom and tossing you onto the soft king sized bed.

"I asked you a fucking question!? You think it's funny to mess with me like that!? I think I need to fuck all those creative ideas out of you for good.." he said and you smiled nodding your head while he tore your panties entering you in one swift motion while making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"P..Pablo..uhh fuck.please" you were a moaning mess underneath him as he hit all the right spots with just enough force to make pleasure overtake all your senses.

He was brining you right to the edge before slipping out of you and leaving you shocked and unsatisfied...you begged him to cum but he was determined to teach you a lesson this time getting tired of these little pranks of yours.

He laid besides you and you crawled on top of him knowing you needed permission to slip him back into your heat so you did all you could which is beg while rubbing your desperate fold against his hard member.

"Please..I'll be good..I promise..I won't prank you ever again Pablito" you said with tearful eyes hoping he will show you mercy and he thought to himself for a moment while you kissed from his face to his neck seductively.

"Never again?" he said and you looked into his eyes kissing his lips a few times while nodding and repeating your promises again and again until he finally raised your hips and slipped back inside of you returning all the needed pleasure.

"Ahh fuck never again.." you moan as your orgasm washes over you making you clench around him like a vice making him fill you up while holding your chest down agains this own.

"Yeah..you definitely don't fake anything princesa..." he smirked proudly seeing that your thighs are still shaking as he laid you down and helped clean you up before kissing your lips lovingly.

"You are so cute when you are angry Pablito.." you say and he turns to look at you still catching his breath from the intense high with a big smile on his face.

"Don't forget what you promised or I am never letting you cum again princesa" he warned and you smirked moving closer to him and whispering into his ear while touch him member that slowly started to harden again.

"You fuck me so good and all my friends know about it.." you say and he smirked nodding his head before grabbing your wrists and pinning them about your head before hovering back on top of you.

"You're my little prankster" he smirked and your smiling face before kissing down your neck losing himself in pleasure of being with you.

#pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavi #gavigif #fc barca #fc barça #fc barcelona #pedri gif #pedriandgavi #pedri gonzalez #pedri #julian araujo #ferran torres

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treesbian · 1 year

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i think it's really funny to pay close attention to the fact that vld is set In The Future bc it makes a lot of the characters complete fucking weirdos based on our interpretations of them. oh lance likes memes? OUR memes? from over 50+ goddamn years ago? what a freak! what's wrong with him! it's especially funny when you pair this with "keith doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about" because of course keith doesn't. not only has he spent the majority of his life unsocialized he also isn't going to understand references from 50+ fucking years ago. it's even funnier when lance acts like keith is the weird one for this. as if he isn't an (teenage) old man in old man clothes making old man jokes. yes lance keith will absolutely understand why "here comes dat boi" makes both you and your grandma lose it. it's a lizard or something on a unicycle? what's the joke here..................

#voltron #talk tag

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onboardsorasora · 7 months

Note

De aged Daniel is just like his older self wanting to eat things that he shouldn’t

I think it was the p1 podcast where Daniel said he falls asleep to true crime podcasts or something like that, so de aged Daniel needs max to tell him a story until he falls asleep. And Max either tells him a story of Daniel’s Red Bull years or Monza 2021

this one was fun to write

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5

Max watched fondly as Little Daniel climbed onto the bed in the guest room, his new red Ferrari pjs were vibrant even in the low light. Charles had come through with all sorts of branded merch and Daniel was in heaven while Max was in hell. It was alright though, Max knew he had loads of time to make a Red Bull fan out of him yet.

Little Daniel threw himself onto the bed, starfishing atop the blankets before giggling and scurrying away from Max’s tickling fingers.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Max asked, Little Daniel bore his teeth at him, a miniature version of a face Daniel made all the time. Max couldn’t hold back his own grin.

“All clean! See!” Little Daniel confirmed.

“Do you want a plushie?” Max looked over to the pile of plushies that his nephews favored that he unearthed from storage. Little Daniel looked at the offerings and pouted, his eyes turned sad.

“Where Maxy? Want Maxy.” Daniel bit his finger and looked up at Max beneath his lashes.

“I’m right here.” Max pointed to himself and Little Daniel’s face grew upset.

“Want Maxy.” he folded his arms to his chest and Max rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I’ll get Maxy.” He left the room to grab the cushion he’d tried to hide while Little Daniel was brushing his teeth. The cushion that marketing had given him as a gag gift and he’d kept hidden away until Little Daniel saw it and fell in love.

He looked at the silver sequins and brushed them all in an upwards direction to see his own face staring back at him. He couldn’t lie, he felt a little happy that Daniel had wanted his likeness to make him feel safe while he slept. Daniel in every version was his favourite person, he hoped the inverse was true.

He walked back into the guest room brandishing the cushion, melting at how Little Daniel’s face quite literally cracked open with joy and Max felt that warmth in his chest that people always talk about. Something something his heart outside of his body.

Little Daniel hugged the pillow close, uncaring about the sequins then looked up at Max with his wide adorable honey eyes.

“Can you read me a story?” Daniel nibbled the corner of the cushion. “Pweese. Mummy always does.”

“Of course, what kind of story?” Max sat on the edge of the bed, Little Daniel scootched over then looked pointedly at the adult sized space beside him. Max shook his head fondly at how demanding Daniel was for affection in every form, and leaned against the head of the bed.

“A racing story!” Little Daniel cuddled up to Max’s side under his arm.

“Of course.” Max tickled Little Daniel’s side and the boy giggled loudly. “Ahmm.” Max looked to the ceiling for a moment.

“Ok, I’ll tell you the story about how a honey badger won a race.”

“What's dat?” Little Daniel looked up at him with curious eyes. Max ran a hand through his hair.

“It's a lovely animal that isn’t scared of anything. It's cute and cuddly but then it's fast and protective.”

“Like you?” Max felt that cute aggression again, warring with the puddle he wanted to melt into.

“Like you!” Max announced, enjoying Little Daniel’s shock.

“What aminal is Maxy?” Little Daniel fingered a few of the sequins.

“I’m a lion.”

“Lions go rawr!” Little Daniel offered sagely.

“Lewis is a panther, I think.” Max said.

“What sounds do they make?”

“I think they go rawr too.”

“What aminal is Shaarrllll?”

Max thought for a second. “I dunno, maybe a mouse.” He tickled Little Daniel and he shrieked a laugh.

They eventually settled and Max started telling Little Daniel the story about how the Honey Badger won the race. He kept his voice soft and even and ran his hand steadily through the little boy’s hair.

“And then the panther and the lion crashed just as the honey badger drove past them to cross the finish line.” Max looked down to see Little Daniel’s face slack with sleep, tucked into Max’s waist. With a fond smile, he tucked Little Daniel into the sheets, making sure the pillows he placed to line the edge of the bed were still secure. He left the bedroom, pulling the door almost closed leaving just enough space to let in the light from the hallway.

#maxiel #de aged daniel #max/daniel #little daniel and maxy #my fic #answered #anonymous

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a-roguish-gambit · 2 months

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Turn of the century au thoughts: dog days of summer

So it's been hot as heck here for a good week and that gave me some thoughts.

During 1912, air conditioning and refrigeration were still a very new thing and expensive as hell. There's no way the brotherhood of mutants could afford that, especially when mystique disappears for a while. So the boys are suffering horribly, sweating like pigs.

When Pietro comes up, pissed as hell because he saw the x men having lemonade with ice and ice cream of all things. There's no way on a day like this they could have that with a normal ice box. They must have some refrigerator unit.

Bitter and jealous, the brotherhood decide they are going to break in and steal it. Xavier can probably afford another. It's practically an act of charity!

So that night they sneak over, planning to be in and out quickly....but unfortunately not so. Cause no matter where they look, they can't find any sign of a refrigerator.

Finally they are cornered in the kitchen as they try to come up with what to do next by wolverine who has been tailing them since they got there, gambit who noticed them sneaking around the garden, and scott who woke up planing to drink whats left of the milk before they get their delivery in the morning.

There's a solid minute of silence before the brotherhood resort to a food fight to try and make their escape but end up waking up jean and Bobby in the process, to which jean stops them in their tracks.

Gambit: what da hell ya doin here???

Wolverine: mystique probably set them up to steal our records on mutants....

Toad: what? No we actually don't know where she is. We want your refrigerator

Gambit: what.

Lance: don't play dumb we know you have one!

Scott:...those are thousands of dollars and barely hold anything! Why would we have one??? Look there's a regular ice box right there. *Pulls the milk out to prove his point* why would we have an ice cabinet if we had a fridge???

Blob: but....you guys had ice cream....an ice box can't keep that on a day like yesterday.....

Pietro: yeah! It's not physically possible...unless you guys have air conditioning? How did you afford that for this whole place it's huge!!!!

Scott:....bobby.

Bobby: on it *opens the ice cabinet and refreezes the tub of ice inside*

Brotherhood:......ohhhhhhhhhhh

Gambit: seriously y'all knew Bobby and Ororo live here and ya think we needed air conditionin or a fridge box?

Toad:...i mean when ya put it that way...

Lance:....can we borrow Bobby tomorrow

Scott: NO!

Jean: What is wrong with you?!

Wolverine: Absolutely not!

Bobby: I charge a dollar an hour for my services.

The x men:.....

Gambit: non bobby ya worth more Dan dat. Tree dollas an hour or nothin

Scott: GAMBIT-

Pietro: Deal. just put our house on ice please.

#gambit #quicksilver #toad #iceman #bobby drake #jean grey #wolverine #cyclops #avalanche #x men evolution #mod talks #turn of the century au #the blob #scott summers #remy lebeau

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pjisskullourful · 2 months

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𝗗𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴

📳 Thomas × reader

NSFW 🔥 smuttastic nastiness, the word dildo makes 9 appearances

° Thomas Raggi/female reader insert

wordcount::: 6,507

° this is the longest your boyfriend has been away on tour. theres missing him, but theres also missing how you feel when hes around [june 2024]

° commissioned by dat boi jace(@punk-gremlin) 💋 always freak being matched [commissions are back!! there is 1 in cue, secure your spot here]

° [ITA:] principessa: princess - eccellente: excellent - cucciolo: puppy

You had been waiting to hear from Thomas all day, and into the night. You had willed the hours to go by quicker so you could get to the point of the night where he was back at the hotel.

You needed your boyfriend to brighten up at least one part of your day. Because it felt like literally everyone was having a better day than you.

Of course Thomas the fucking rockstar was having a day so much more exciting than yours. That was typical, it wasn’t a surprise to envy the things he was doing.

But even your friends (who you would, non-derogatorily, refer to as regular people) were giving you reasons to be jealous. Looking on social media had left you feeling lower than usual. Your friends were having postcard-perfect summer days.

Taking the Polaroid to the beach was a great idea, Angie had captioned the carousel of photos she had uploaded. They showed her and her boyfriend, bathed in the sun’s glow as they relaxed by the ocean. There were photos of them kissing and him showing off a sandcastle.

Elsewhere, Matt had been bragging about how his day had begun - the warmer weather allowing him to incorporate a swim into his ridiculously-early workout. Bria and her new girlfriend had worn cute sundresses to go get gelato. Other friends were posting about a double date at a seafood restaurant.

Everybody was making the most of the season, except for you. With your day free from work, you had been too tired to make plans. So you just stayed at home, moping about your boyfriend’s absence.

You wished that you had a day worthy of sharing. Instead you were feeling how much your jealousy could feed the insecure side of yourself, leading its voice to grow louder.

As you had thought about Thomas’ better day, you had populated it with the people he was likely to see. You thought about the other famous names that accompanied Måneskin in these festival line-ups. He had so much access to people with extraordinarily glamorous and fun lifestyles.

And where famous musicians went, gorgeous women rarely weren’t far behind. Whether they were part of an entourage or an enthusiastic interviewer, there was no chance of him not interacting with beautiful women. Women who looked like Victoria - but unlike his bandmate, they didn’t know or care about your existence as his girlfriend.

You knew that Thomas was loyal and dedicated to you - he had proven this repeatedly in the seven months of your relationship. You never doubted this when you were around him.

But the past month of distance had done something to your head. Your logic wasn’t as secure, it took an atypical amount of effort to access it. Negative thoughts were easier to find and get attached to. In the time that you had been a couple, he had never been gone for such a long time. And as much as you tried to avoid complaining about this unchangeable fact - it was definitely having an affect on you.

Things didn’t feel as simple and okay as they did when he was at home. You felt bothered that your relationship didn’t look like what other people had. Was this an insecurity you had ever had before? Either way, it was here and it was insistent.

An entire day of comparing yourself to other people (both known to you and not) had left you feeling decidedly grumpy.

You wanted Thomas as a distraction. But you also wanted the reaffirmation of your connection, you needed to feel it wholly, until you forgot about the physical distance.

The sound of his voice coming through your phone’s speaker was a huge relief. And this was different to getting a voice note or Snapchat from him during the day. This was guaranteed to not be over quickly. He wasn’t grabbing a five-minute break between rockstar duties.

Now that he was back at the hotel for the night, separated from any distractions or responsibilities, you were his priority. This helped to improve your mood (you weren’t back to feeling like your normal self straight away, but it was a good start).

The first order of business for this call was for each of you to say how much you were missing the other. It was practically a ritual at this point. None of these words were new, but their truth needed to be expressed.

Then he wanted to know how your day had been. He would tell you about his concert afterwards. He put touching base with you first. You liked the sense of importance this made you feel (why was it so hard to access this on your own?).

Like someone selecting only the best moments for a post on Instagram, you didn’t tell him about your bad mood. You didn’t talk about how your warped perceptions had cast a negative light on a lot of the day.

Instead you told him about all of the relaxing you had done. You had finally gotten the chance to begin reading a book purchased about two months ago..

Then you talked about some more of the things that you had unpacked. It had been six weeks since the two of you had moved into this apartment and all of the important things had been removed from boxes. But the office still stored about eight boxes, framed and sentimental things of his, books of yours that you weren’t sure there was shelf-space for.

And, as you had discovered today, a little cache of fidget devices. You told him about the multiple toys that you had found - two different coloured fidget cubes, a hand roller, a chew necklace and some magnetic fidget rings. All of these had been relocated to the living room.

Thomas was the first partner who had never complained or made comments about how strange your fidgeting was. Because he was a fidgeter as well.

On your first date you had explained any seemingly random clicking that he heard away as coming from the fidget cube resting in your lap. To your surprise, this hadn’t prompted confusion. He knew exactly what you were talking about, you hadn’t needed to demonstrate the object for him.

Instead he had excitedly taken out his car keys, showing you the toy that he took everywhere with him. Attached via keyring was a metal ring, covered in an uncountable amount of smaller rings, that could be spun endlessly.

That had put you at ease faster than typical on a first date. You had so easily come across a common ground. With your trademark flouting of societal norms, you had (at the dinner table) shared with him a joke about how the ultimate fidget toy was a pussy. He had laughed so hard that his face had turned bright red as he almost choked on the water he was swallowing, you didn’t regret the joke for a second.

When moving in together, you had determined that your individual collections could be merged. The best place was in front of the television, a dedicated tub to house all of the toys.

“You didn’t have to unpack any more boxes, principessa.” He told you, his voice taking on a gentle tone. “I wasn’t expecting you to. And I truly don’t mind if you want to wait ‘til I’m there to help.”

“It’s alright, I just did a little bit. I didn’t get overwhelmed, not at all.” You were pleased to tell him.

“That’s my girl, always making autism her bitch.” He said.

He loved to help you keep track of any and all victories. Especially when it came to you going back to things that had bested you in the past. He never minded slowing things down to help you find a new approach that would help you avoid getting overstimulated or overwhelmed.

“So they’re in the tub with the other fidgets. How many cubes are in there now?” He asked. “It’s gotta be a million.”

“Relax, it’s only nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight cubes.” You joked.

“Oh, what a perfectly reasonable amount.” He said with just a hint of sarcasm. “So, you put on a sexy dress and purple lipstick to unpack?”

You paused, caught off-guard by the change in subject. “Huh, what?”

Then it occurred to you what he was talking about, what was unexpectedly on his mind). He was referring back to the photos you had posted to Instagram earlier today.

What do you mean you don’t match your dress to the exact shade of your lipstick? You had captioned the four photos. You had bought the short, casual dress earlier this week. It wasn’t until you got it home that you had realised the colour of the material was almost identical to a shade of purple lipstick you owned.

Trying the new item on to check how it fit hadn’t been enough - you applied the lipstick as well.

You hadn’t had Thomas around to show off to. And in the mirror, you had seen some things worth showing off. You liked how the shade of purple complimented your skin-tone. You thought the cut of the dress had made your cleavage look great.

That feeling of confidence had been glorious, something that you had wanted to capture. While your mood had been one worth celebrating, you had taken photos of yourself.

This had been a substitute for what you truly wished you could do: bottle up the feeling. If only you could have it more often.

“No, those photos are from yesterday. I just didn’t get around to posting them ‘til this morning.” You explained to Thomas.

“Oh, that makes sense.” He said. “That dress looks really good on you. I told you that, right? Because if I haven’t, I can tell you right now. You’re so damn gorgeous and your body and- mmm, you make me so homesick.”

You smiled, probably your biggest of the day. His words could cut through the noisy bullshit in your mind.

He had left you a cute compliment under the photos. But in the privacy of your inbox, he had been less restrained about his feelings.

Those pics you just posted, he began, finishing his thought with a series of emojis. A follow-up message had quickly come through: Stop being so sexy when you aren’t close enough for me to touch. Some flirting had come after this, each of you sharing some ideas of how you would mark his homecoming.

Maybe it could have gone further. But he had to leave his phone behind while he did soundcheck.

Now you realised that talk was just a prelude to the conversation that you were having right now.

“You can keep telling me about it.” You said. You rolled onto your side, your eyes going to the framed photo of the two of you on the nightstand. He was smiling for the camera while you kissed him on the cheek, your hand rested on the low point of where he had started to button his white shirt. You wondered what he was currently wearing.

“You’re so sexy and I’m just still so obsessed with your body. You truly have no idea because I’m not smart enough to have all of the words to tell you about it.” He said.

“Thomas.” You lightly scolded him. “You’re very smart.”

His response began with a sarcastic laugh. “Not when I’m looking at you. There isn’t much blood going to my brain, if you know what I mean.”

You felt like you wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for a while and your heart was beating faster. “If I say that I don’t know what you mean, will you explain it to me?”

“I’m horny for you, principessa.” He declared and his sudden, impassioned raising of his voice made you giggle. And still he had more to say. “When I tell you that I’m obsessed with your body, it’s because I literally couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. After I saw those photos, they were the only thing I could think about. Even when I was on stage, every time that I shut my eyes the photos were there, reminding me how much I’m missing ‘cause I’m away from home.”

“Really?” You asked as you heard the whispers of your insecurities continuing. “You really thought about me and my photos that much?”

“Fuck yes I did.” He said. “Who else would I think about?”

As his enthusiasm got his voice louder, your lingering negative emotions saw you speaking softer. Your thoughts went to overly-friendly models and other blue-tick-verified hotties. But you kept that to yourself, you didn’t want this quality time with him to become about all the ways you lacked confidence.

“I dunno.” You said.

“I kept going back to this one thought: your legs, and picturing what they would look like wrapped around me.” He said. “And that was a very powerful image to have in my mind, it had some lasting effects on me.”

“Damn, Tommy…” You sighed, looking at the photo as you wished you could be looking into his eyes as he said these things.

“You believe me, don’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, course I do.” You said. Unfortunately you believed two things at once, still knowing that he could do better than you.

“Then how come you sound so…?” He trailed off and you imagined his hand gesturing through the air, completing the question this way.

Even though you couldn’t see him, you knew what he was getting at. “I dunno. Maybe I’m more tired than I realised.”

“Do you wanna go to sleep?” He asked.

“No, I wanna keep talking to you.” You asserted. “Been waiting all day for this.”

“Me too. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you about how amazing you are.” He said. “Do you know how crazy I am about you?”

“I’m crazy about you, too.” You said, hoping that putting your energy into showering him with compliments would give you the distraction that you needed. “It blows my mind that someone as incredible, beautiful, talented, funny as you could be mine, Thomas.”

“I am yours.” He said, how seriously he meant this could be heard in every syllable. “Are you mine?”

“Yes, every part of me.” You mentally added more to this sentence. …for better or worse.

“Good, ‘cause absolutely no one can make me feel like you do.” He said. “When I wanna jerk off, I do it to the stuff you put up on Instagram. I’ve never had this in a relationship before, but I literally can’t watch porn anymore.”

Your mouth opened, even though you didn’t have anything to say presently. His words were hitting you on a deeper level, arousing different reactions inside you.

“It isn’t as effective as you. It can’t work me up even half as much as you can.” He said. “And I would be embarrassed admitting that to anyone else, any other girls that I’ve dated. But I want you to know ‘cause I want- I wish that I could make you feel how much I want you, how much I love you.”

It had crept up on you. You hadn’t noticed yourself getting turned on. But now you could feel that burn. Upon acknowledging it, you didn’t think that you would be able to go back to ignoring this arousal.

“How would you make me feel it?” You asked.

“Oh, principessa…”

He was the first person who had ever used that specific nickname with you. And ever since the first use you had trusted that he meant it. He so sincerely treated you like royalty, like something so precious and so worthy of spoiling.

Sometimes he added the word my to your title. You liked that just as much, taking his desire to possess you as the compliment that it was.

“I talked about your legs in those pics, but do you know what else I’m staring at? Your tits. They fill up that dress so perfectly.” He said and over the faded material of your shirt, you ran your hand across the swell of one of your tits. “I miss how those gorgeous things feel in my hands.”

You guided your hand down this curve, with some more pressure this time. “I miss feeling your hands.”

“Are you touching them for me?” He asked. And it was an almost-physical switch from the earlier mood of this conversation.

But you could keep up with it. You rolled onto your back and pushed your hand under your shirt. “Yes, I am.”

He made a soft moaning noise. “I like that.”

You caressed all over your breasts, feeling how hot the skin already was as your heart got to racing again. You wanted to indulge more in this lust and you lightly dragged your nails across this supple flesh.

With a throaty sigh he said your name. “If I were there, I would have my lips all over those nipples. I bet they’re nice and hard for me.”

You squeezed your thighs together as you put your fingers to one of the firm nipples, it was surrounded by keenly pebbled skin. “You win that bet.”

“That’s good, that’s so, so, so good.” He cooed. “The way that I wanna be sucking on your nipples right now, it’s- well, it’s more of a need. I need to have your nipples in my mouth. Your perfect, pretty, princess nipples.”

“That would make me so wet.” You confessed, already aware of the extra heat currently inside of your underwear.

“Well, that’s what I want.” He said. “Do you wanna do something for me?”

“Of course.” You answered immediately (running on desires, like you currently were, eliminated most of your need to thoroughly think things through).

“Can you get your nipple clamps out? The ones that are shaped like tiny pegs, with the connecting chain.” He said and you had no issue with mentally locating exactly what he was talking about.

“Yeah, I can do that.” You said, sitting up.

You didn’t have to get off of the bed to gain access to the sex toys, you just leaned down to open the bottom drawer of the nightstand. You found the thin silver chain lying amongst the many other objects that populated this compartment. You picked it up, the crocodile-style clamps coming free.

“Make sure they aren’t set too tight before you put them on. I know you like it best when something hurts, but I want you to work up to that, okay?” He said.

You removed your shirt before you checked each clamp’s tiny screw pin. You made his requested change, unscrewing as far as the mechanism would allow.

“Okay.” You said as you laid flat on your back. You opened one of the clamps and lined its PVC-padded tips up to your left nipple. Gradually you relaxed your hold, until the prongs were gripping onto your firm nipple. You bit down on your bottom lip, somewhat muffling the sound you couldn’t help making as this sharp pinching sensation registered clearly at your core.

He heard it anyway. “Is that one, or both of them?”

Your hand trembled as you held the unattached clamp, starting to get it close to your other nipple. “One.”

“Be a good girl and clamp both of those nipples for me.” He said and you became aware of some quiet sounds on his end of the line, suggesting some activity. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to get out something to help me take care of myself. ‘Cause, like I said earlier, your new photos had lasting effects on me.”

Maybe if you weren’t experiencing such grand reactions to your own stimulant, you would have been able to guess which sex toy he was getting for himself. You knew exactly which devices he had packed into his suitcase. But there was absolutely no clarity in your thoughts currently.

You whimpered when your other nipple was treated to the squeeze of the clamp. You swallowed, trying to settle into this elevated state of reactivity.

“They’re both on now.” You said, unable to keep the shakiness out of your voice.

“Great work. You’re doing well for me.” He said.

The smile had returned to your face, with the adrenaline pumping the lust so quickly through your system, taking you over. You could only take in short and fast breaths, you keenly awaited what he decided would be next. You loved giving almost all of your control over to him.

“Imagining how you look right now… it’s got me, like, unbelievably hard.” He said and you could hear how his breathing was starting to get laboured.

You whimpered as enticing and obscene images made themselves prominent in your mind - the potential that had led to such sublime experiences in the past. Your whole body pulsed with need for those same heights.

“I wish I could be there to take care of you. You deserve it, you’ve been working so hard.” You said.

“I wish that I had you right here, too.” He said. “But that’s how I feel twenty-four-seven, anyways.”

The pressure on your nipples had you feeling so focused, you were intensely tuned into your body. And so those loud thoughts lost their prominence. You heard what he said and that was enough for you, a simple but powerful confirmation.

“Thomas, I love you.” You said, giving a voice to the most important thought in your head.

“I love you too.” His response was instant. “I want you to tighten those clamps for me. Just one twist for now, okay?”

Your eyes went down to the fixed pegs as you took in a shaky breath. The excitement made you squeeze your thighs tighter together.

During previous uses, the two of you had determined that it took five complete turns of the screws to get the clamps to their tightest hold. That was when their effects couldn’t possibly be ignored, an extraordinarily amount of blood flying into the area. That was the kind of intensity that made your cunt drip.

You put your fingers to the left screw. “One twist.” You were careful in how you turned the screw, making sure you didn’t go too far.

“Good girl.” He said as you felt your heart pounding faster. “I love how obedient you can be. You’re just so, so, so good for me.”

Once both screws were tightened, you released a breath you hadn’t noticed yourself holding. Your body was dominated by tingles, all of the potential dazzling you.

“Are you touching yourself for me?” You asked.

“Just a little.” He said. “I’ve got the lube and my fleshlight here, but I haven’t started with those yet. I’m just teasing myself over my underwear…” You rubbed your thighs together, imagining the sight. “A little tease because I don’t wanna rush any of this. I wanna take my time and make it last, I’ve gotta really enjoy this moment with my princess.”

You smiled, savouring the way his voice sounded breathier now. It was one of those subtle changes that only you got to have in your ear.

“Do you want me to get a toy, too?” You asked.

“That sounds good. And I get to pick?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

The two of you didn’t keep to a strict dynamic, not staying in firm characters, preferring to play around when it came to stuff like that. Sometimes you liked to indulge your more submissive side, trusting how he would handle you in these situations. Turning your brain off and giving all control over to him could be everything that you needed, liberating you beyond your wildest dreams. He was incredibly sexy in the moments where he was bossy - their rarity making you treasure them all the more.

“Let’s have the same amount of toys. I want you to get a dildo, I don’t care which one you pick.” He said.

You were smiling as you went back to the bottom draw. You could hear his breathing still coming through the phone, keeping you company, almost like he was looking over your shoulder.

You picked up a teal dildo, one that you knew was close to the same length as your boyfriend.

“I got one.” You said, lying down and getting comfortable.

“Eccellente.” He said. “I’m gonna tell you when and how I want you to use it, okay?”

“You’re gonna tease me, aren’t you?” You asked.

“Hey, don’t pout like you don’t enjoy it when there’s a big build-up. Now, give those clamps one more twist, I want my princess to be really feeling it.” He said.

You laid the dildo at your side, returning your fingers to the screws, one at a time. Your gut clenched and a promising warmth enveloped your entire body. You greeted this slight increase with a whimper, giving him a glimpse of what you were feeling. With this being the current focal point, it made the squeezing effect seem all the more significant.

“Fuck.” He hissed, it felt like an extra reward. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

You gave your hips a little wiggle, just wishing that you could do more. “Yeah, all that rock ‘n’ roll isn’t allowed to make you deaf, ‘cause I have so many more noises to make for you.”

“Lucky me.” He said.

“Well fuck, I’ve made a damn good mess of my underwear now.” You said, the damp material against your skin was getting harder to ignore.

“You’re still wearing panties?” He asked.

“Yeah. Oops.”

“Well you have to take them off, right now.” He said, it was an action you were already completing. “I can’t believe you still had them on.”

“It slipped my mind. I’m not used to taking them off myself, usually there’s this horny guy that does it for me.” You teased.

“This horny guy is gonna start lubing up his fleshlight.” He said. “Maybe you could introduce that dildo to your wet pussy.” You picked the toy up, not needing any further incentive. “Not inside yet…”

You steadied yourself. “Gotta do the teasing, I know.”

“It’s gonna feel so good, you know it will.” He said.

You parted your thighs and moved the toy down, sliding its smooth side against your labia majora. Briefly, you missed the feeling of heat from his dick.

But then you angled the toy so that its tip could move between your folds, pressing harder with it until you stopped thinking about what you missed. The more pressure that you applied with the up-down motion, made your thoughts float away. Their significance dwindled as you got invested in this feeling of your cunt finally getting attention.

You panted heavier than before when you guided the silicone tip to your clitoris. The keen nerve-endings responded with such an enticing zing that you couldn’t get yourself to move the dildo away at once. Your chest swelled, making you notice the clamps more. It was a tantalising cocktail that fed right to your core.

“Good girl.” He moaned, only adding to your great sense of need. “You’re such a good girl, get yourself feeling so amazing for me.”

You didn’t say anything back, just letting him hear your shaky inhales and heavy exhales. At the same time you were hearing a new noise from the speaker of your phone. It wasn’t entirely new to you, its wet quality immediately unlocking memories (very pleasing memories to reflect on). His dick was getting slick with lubricant.

As you imagined how the light was catching on his member, you pushed your toy down. Passing it between your labia minora, you let more of the length get lubricated by you.

“I’m gonna use a decent amount of lube, so that you can hear what I’m doing, hear my strokes. ‘Cause I want you to match me.” He said, his voice husky over more noises of the lubricant being applied. “I want us to fuck at the same speed.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, you were nodding your head, your toes starting to curl in anticipation. “Mm-hmm.”

“It doesn’t have to be exact, I’m not gonna be a perfectionist about it. But just try to copy what you hear, and then it will be close… it’s gonna be more like when we’re actually having sex.”

“Mm-hmm, yeah, I wanna do it like that, Tommy.” You said, feeling how hard and fast your heartbeat was coming in.

“That’s my good girl, my perfect princess.” He said. “Start teasing the tip in. Don’t go further than that. Yes, I’m still teasing you.” You gave a whimper in response, beginning to move the dildo as instructed. “Just get the tip in…” You heard his quick inhale. “That’s what I’m doing…”

You maintained your control over the toy as you felt the new pressure of your lips being eased apart. It could have slipped in absolutely effortlessly, but you only took about an inch in.

“You might need to put your phone down now. ‘Cause I want you to tighten those clamps one more.” He said and you took it away from your ear, considering the illuminated screen as another word from him came through. “One.”

You used your thumb to hit the button that would switch it to speaker-phone mode, then you set the device down on the pillow next to your head. “Okay.”

To the sounds of his slicked cock continuing to be worked by his toy, you gave each of the screws another turn. The increased pinch raised the stakes for you, the feeling registering through most of your sensitive body. Especially in your cunt, your walls clenching around nothing, while craving so much.

“Okay.” You said, noticing how you couldn’t stop paying attention to your nipples. Now you could feel your pulse in them, the attentive peaks positively throbbing in every second, the sensation in the forefront of your mind.

“Good girl.” He told you. “But don’t let them get painful. ‘Cause I’m not there to kiss your nipples better if they get hurt.”

“I know.” You said.

“You don’t know it like I do.” He said.

You furrowed your brow. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I think about your nipples and how incredibly far from my mouth they are way more than you’re thinking about it.” He explained.

“Yep, you’re definitely winning that competition.” You said.

“Should we go deeper?” He asked.

You reaffirmed your hold on the toy’s base. “Mm-hmm, I’m ready for it.”

“Okay, take that cock deeper for me.” He said.

You didn’t rush the length between your walls. You knew that you had enough time to ease it in, letting the tip gradually reach deeper, spreading you open in the process. Instantly your cunt clung to it, all of your anticipation ready to spill over.

The wet noises consistently coming from his end of the call allowed you a very clear mental picture of what he was doing. The immersive images kept you smiling, the butterflies in your stomach multiplying.

“I can hear you.” You told him.

His response began with a moan. “Yeah, you like how that sounds?”

“Fuck yeah.” You said, your eyes shut as you started to identify something of a rhythm to his erotic noises. You noticed the slight pauses, which separated one motion from another. You were certain that the fleshlight was being stroked up-and-down his member.

His voice was even more restrained when you heard it next and you imagined his chest puffed out as more composure was sacrificed.

“It feels better than it sounds.”

“I wish I could feel it.” You said, his noises were so familiar and so close to being real for you.

You attempted to recreate the rhythm that you heard through the phone’s speaker. You withdrew the dildo, the tip travelling almost to your entrance. You waited for his quick pause to finish, plunging your toy all the way in when you heard his next wet stroke.

“I wish you were feelin’ it, too. I wish I could be fucking you, fucking that masterpiece of a body.” He said through other strangled noises - all of these hints of his lust were a feast for you.

“Fuck that toy like it is me.” You requested.

When you heard his pauses diminishing because he was picking up the pace of his strokes, you were quick to copy him. You thrusted the toy faster, feeling your inner-walls grow more sensitive in response to this more insistent treatment.

Everything was falling into place for you, this tempo serving the deep need burning inside. You could get addicted to this perfect cycle of your body’s every response granting you another reward.

You knew which moves to make, there wasn’t any thinking currently required of you. You raised your knees as you spread your thighs further apart. At the same time as you were planting the soles of your feet on the mattress, you tilted your pelvis, providing your toy with a whole new angle. You kept copying his tempo, his breathless whispering of your name floating out of the speaker.

“Mm, oh guh-...” You murmured as you started to move your hips to this rhythm.

You lifted your ass from the bed so you could swing yourself up, getting closer to the hand controlling your toy. Your other hand grabbed up some of the bedsheets as you gave more to this effort, which was rewarding you superbly. You felt the impacts of the dildo more, the way that it glided so deep into you felt better-and-better, a perfect escalation taking you to the threshold of how much you could take.

Before the bliss could make you float too far away, he spoke. He said your name with some more firmness in his tone, which made you pay immediate attention even amongst the intoxicating rush that dominated your body.

“How about twisting those clamps once more?” He asked, making your heart leap into your throat with the realisation that he was getting you to the second highest intensity that this device had to offer. “Could you do that for me, principessa?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t get your voice above a whisper.

This forced you to still your hips as your focus relocated. You pushed the dildo more than halfway in, hoping your cunt would hold it in place for you.

There were tremors in your fingers until they reached the tiny screws. You looked down, watching what you did as you felt the sensation get more intense in your right nipple, then the left. You gritted your teeth as the tension set on the edge of crippling you.

“Holy fuh…” You panted as you lethargically got to working the toy dick inside of you again. “That feels really amazing. I-I think you’re getting me close.”

“That’s perfect, that’s so perfect.” He said.

“You always make me feel so good. You’re incredible.”

“No, you’re incredible.” He said and you were back to matching the promising rhythm that you heard from his end of the line. “I’m lucky to be able to give you pleasure.”

You writhed desperately through his pacing. “So, so, so much pleasure.”

“I want you to come first. You don’t have to wait for me, okay? All I want is for you to enjoy it as soon as you feel it.” He said.

Your hips stuttered, your movements beginning to get reckless as you let your greed take over. “Thomas, oh God, oh my fuh-... ah…” You got the tip to collide with your g-spot, feeling an unfathomable surge of pleasure. “Fuck, that’s it. Oh, that’s fuckin’ it.” You pounded the toy into this winning spot at a merciless rhythm. “Yes, yes, it- oh, oh…”

“Good girl.” His words accompanied you as you lost yourself on that crazy edge. “Let me hear you.”

You spasmed as all of that tension snapped inside of you. You noisily gasped for air as your back arched one last time. You rode out the high to the noises of the fleshlight still in motion.

“Fuck, ah.” He whined and it sounded like he was getting quicker.

You choked back a sob as you took the toy out of your cunt. You all but collapsed onto the bed, basking in all of the endorphins. You removed the clamps from your extremely sensitive nipples. Your mouth hung open as you started to float away.

“Ah, ah, uh-huh…” He was murmuring as the wet sounds continued. You smiled as you imagined his body jerking, losing all control and putting on the best show for you. “Yea-ah, yes!”

The noises of that slippery fleshlight being used suddenly halted. Then the only thing that you could hear was his heavy breathing - it was practically harmonising with you.

You took the call off of speaker and returned the phone to your ear. With your eyes shut, the distance could almost be forgotten. As you experienced the wonderful after effects of your orgasm, you knew that he was feeling the same things. And he was feeling them as a direct result of thinking about you too much.

As you paid attention to where you were still feeling the tingles in your body, you made a mental note to be wearing the new purple dress when he got home at the end of this run of festival gigs.

Eventually he recovered enough to speak. “I’m yours. I am so fuckin’ yours, I love you.”

“I love you too, cucciolo. I can’t wait for when I get to say that to your face again.” You said.

He yawned before talking. “And my face will be very grateful to get that.”

“I feel sort of rude for not asking you how your gig was yet. But we just got into that faster than I was expecting.” You said.

“Because of your fuckin’ photos.” He said. “You can ask me about my day now.”

“Don’t you want to sleep?” You asked. You had witnessed more than once how tired and lethargic he could get after using all of his energy for an orgasm.

“No, I’m talkin’ to you. I’ll go to sleep when I run out of things to say to you.” He said and you heard him barely muffle another yawn.

“Thomas…”

“You would have hated the pants they put me in for the show tonight.” He said.

And you let him change the subject. “The silver ones? I was going to tell you how cool they looked.”

“Yeah, they looked cool. But they were made out of this weird material, I don’t know what it was, I didn’t ask. And whenever it rubbed together, like when my thighs touched as I was walking, it would make this awful sound. Like when you get up from a leather couch.” He said and you grit your teeth, cringing as you imagined it. “It would drive you nuts, I know it would.”

“Okay, so here we have another example of why you should always be naked when in my presence.” You said.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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