#ooc: you do not have to reply i just had the urge

[erabundus]

good morning, i love ren wanderer scaramouche kunikuzushi balladeer kabukimono hat guy very much.

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! — 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊. ˒ ⊹

me and my roommate get drunk one night and end up fucking!!!! oh my god, this is so awkward…

୨ৎ syn. it’s your final year of uni—after midterms come to a close, you decide to celebrate by getting absolutely SMASHED with your roommate, itadori yuuji. much to your chagrin, this decision comes with a boatload of consequences. how do you navigate the awkward morning after with your golden retriever of a roommate!? (4.8k)

୨ৎ pairing. itadori yuuji x f!reader

୨ৎ cw. modern au, fem!reader, both yuuji and reader are in their final year of uni and are implied to be 21+, alcohol mentions, drunk sex, dubious consent (read prev warning), pet names used (baby, pretty, angel), oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dealing w/ the repercussions of fucking your roommate the morning after (but it ended up alot more fluffier and romantic than i intended because i love him), minors + ageless blogs dni! 18+ content under the cut!!

୨ৎ love, oak! oh christ almighty. i like itadori yuuji a normal amount. i just really really think he'd make the perfect boyfriend ever. first time writing for him so hoping and praying he isn’t incredibly ooc but regardless,, hope u guys like this i wrote it with my entire clit :3 crossposted to ao3 here!

[ main m.list! ┊coming soon... ]

“Yuu~ji!”

Your lilting voice carries through the shared living space of your apartment. Shuffling in through the entryway, the door clicks shut behind you as you peer around the corner of the entrance hallway.

“You there? Yu?”

You hear a muted groan come from the couch in response.

Toeing off your shoes with a giggle and setting them onto the shoe-rack (the same shoe-rack you constantly have to pester Yuuji about—”Yu, don’t just leave your shoes on the floor! The rack is right there!”—every other day), you peek over the back of the fluffy couch in the living area and find Yuuji sprawled on his stomach over it, face shoved in a pillow.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Like I’m dying,” comes his muffled reply.

You reach a hand down to tousle his already messy bubblegum pink hair. He weakly bats a hand at you.

“Surely you can live a little longer for a night out with your favorite roommate?”

With a grunt, Yuuji flips over, lying on his back. He blinks once, twice. Then he grins; that familiar, radiant grin that makes your heart speed up a little in your chest. You can feel your own smile widen in response.

“I think I can do that,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilts his head at you. “You’re not gonna pass out on me again though, are you?”

Your eyes narrow slightly in challenge. Bringing your face closer to his by leaning over the couch, you reply snarkily, “and you’re not gonna force me to shoulder you the whole way home again, are you?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen at the new proximity, a faint rosiness rising to his cheeks that makes you giddy. His throat bobs before he replies, “No, promise I won’t.”

You think you see his eyes flick down momentarily—towards the swell of your chest, exposed by the low-cut top you had chosen to wear today—causing a smug sense of satisfaction to pool in your tummy. You lean further, the urge to be a tease winning out over your usual sense: over the notion that you shouldn’t be flirting with the guy you live with. It's entirely a bad idea (and yet here you are, doing it anyways).

Yuuji’s lips part slightly; when he meets your gaze again, there’s hunger shining in his big brown eyes, hazy and diluted by conflict. You can see the inner strife going on in his head already: he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his roommate. He shouldn’t be a perv.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him either, but you just can’t help yourself. Something about the way he’s looking at you fills you with a streak of confidence that throws all common sense out of the window.

“Good. Be ready at 7?” Your tone has noticeably lowered, nearly a purr even as you smile innocently down at him.

Yuuji swallows again, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sure—okay. Sounds good!” He babbles nervously.

It’s cute. He’s cute.

“Cool. ‘m gonna get a nap in then.”

He nods his head slowly. The tension hovers in the air between you, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Slowly, ever so slowly, you straighten, watching as his eyes never leave your form. You bite your lip and offer Yuuji a softer smile before you turn on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

You can feel the way his eyes bore holes into your back as you walk away, skirt swishing with every step. You purposefully sway your hips a little more despite yourself and you think you hear him choke slightly, a sound that makes you feel much more smug than it realistically should.

As you close the door to your bedroom, the only thing on your mind isn’t how tired you are from dealing with midterms—it’s how Yuuji looked at you just moments ago, eyes gleaming with raw want, like you were a five star meal served on a silver platter. You clutch your chest as you flop onto your bed.

There’s always been an underlying tension between you and Yuuji. It used to be easier to ignore, something left tucked away in the corners of your mind, leaving you to instead settle for an easy friendship. Something that doesn’t complicate things, especially since you live together. There’s no avoiding any awkward encounters should either of you decide to take that step.

But lately, things have been coming to a boiling point. You’re not sure if it’s the stress of your final year of uni dawning upon you or if its just years of tension finally being pulled taut enough to snap—whatever it is, it has muddled your senses enough to find flirting with Yuuji fun instead of something forbidden. It has you pushing boundaries you never thought you would push with him before.

Oh, well. If there was any time for things to make some bad decisions and get a little complicated with your incredibly handsome roommate, your last year of uni might just be perfect. Screw the consequences.

“Yuu,” you moan, drunkenly stumbling into a wall of muscle.

Thankfully, that wall of muscle happens to be Itadori Yuuji. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, a hiccup bubbling from his lips as he grins down at you.

“Hey there,” Yuuji laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeeeeaaahhh,” you slur. “Are we home yet?”

“Almost there. Hang on a little bit more for me, okay?”

The night air is crisp and cooling against your balmy skin, a welcome relief after spending hours in a bar packed with sweaty bodies and bass thrumming through your veins. It’s breezy, fallen leaves rustling across the ground as the wind scatters them along the sidewalk. A particularly stronger gust has you pressing closer to Yuuji, your little top and skirt doing little to protect you against the autumnal weather.

Yuuji pauses, making sure you’re steady before he shrugs off his jacket.

“Here, put this on,” he says, gently maneuvering your arms into the warm sleeves. His cologne wraps around you in its embrace, warm and musky and tinged just a little bit with alcohol. You smile.

Megumi and Nobara have already made their separate ways home, the former grabbing an uber while Nobara hitched a ride home with Maki. You can’t help the way you giggle and stumble as Yuuji ushers you forward again. “Nobaraaa’s gonna geeet iiiiit,” you snicker, latching onto the hard muscle of Yuuji’s bicep to steady yourself. “Did you see the way Maki w’s lookin’ at her? I wish someone looked at me that way.”

Yuuji is probably about equally as blasted as you are (you went shot for shot, after all), but he manages to carry himself in a more sober manner than you. He lets you latch onto him like a koala as he guides you through the doors of your apartment building.

He’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so—he’s usually a chatterbox when drunk.

“Yuuji? Did’ya even hear me?” you push.

“I heard ya,” Yuuji hums, pulling you into the elevator with him. As the machinery moves up to your floor, it makes your stomach lurch—forcing you to grab onto Yuuji tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.

“Are we there yet?” You grumble into his arm, clutching him tight.

“Almost,” he replies softly. You think you feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, but with the way everything is spinning, you can’t be entirely sure.

Between some time and the next, you’re finally ambling into your apartment, clutching Yuuji’s jacket tight around you. As the door clicks shut, you spin to face him—

—and end up nearly face planting, if not for the way Yuuji surges forward to catch you in his arms. “Woah there,” he mumbles. “Steady. Don’t move too fast, or you’ll fall.”

Despite his words, he has to lean against the now shut door to keep himself upright, you can feel that much. You grasp the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, pressed against the sturdy surface of his chest. You can feel the way his muscles flex and roll as he shifts with the way you’re pressed up against him.

When you look up at him, doe-eyes wide, you’re met with brown eyes glimmering with want. Lust.

“Yuu… ji?” Your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. He inhales in sync, his hands dropping to curl around your waist. He holds you gently, like a porcelain teacup on the verge of breaking.

It's quiet. There's a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at you.

“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his lips softly—but with the silence of the apartment, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it’s earth shattering. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

You’re not in your right mind. This is a bad idea. You know this.

You don’t care.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt, you tug him down to you, lips meeting in a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s electrifying, everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this one moment, warmth exploding in your chest like a dying star.

Fuck. You were kissing Itadori Yuuji—and it’s everything you dreamt it would be.

He pants your name amidst kisses but it’s hard to hear with your heart roaring in your ears, a drum beating an unsteady rhythm that throws you off balance in your very core. You stumble into the shoe-rack trying to hastily drag him over to the couch. Shoes clatter to the floor as you tumble into him, a moan falling from your lips as he paws at you while your hands tangle in his hair.

“I was lookin’ at you like that, you know?” Yuuji groans as the two of you fall back onto the couch. He holds you on top of him, letting you get comfy as you straddle his lap before he continues. “You haven’t noticed?”

His voice is heavy, dragging drunkenly as you stare down at him. In this position, with Yuuji laid back on the couch, you feel like you’re towering over him—giving you some semblance of control, even though you know perfectly well that Yuuji can flip you over and take you just like that. You dip your hands under his shirt, nails gently scratching against the velvet wrapped steel planes of his abs. Pushing the fabric up, you reveal the faint happy trail that begins at his navel, disappearing teasingly under the waistband of his jeans. You bite your lip.

“Hey,”—your name falls from his lips in the form of a plea, desperate and sweet—”Look at me.”

Big hands squeezing your hips force your attention back to him. You finally listen and meet his gaze, finding that his eyes are heavily eclipsed by dilated pupils, leaving a faint ring of hazel in its wake. It’s like a dark sun, or perhaps a black hole threatening to pull you into him, consumed by everything that is Itadori Yuuji.

You think you wouldn’t mind that one bit.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He’s worried, something that makes your heart warm fondly, giving you a moment of clarity amidst the fog of lust that addles your brain. The guys you typically went home with sometimes never found it in themselves to care too much about you. But Yuuji… he’s different. He does care. Yuuji continues, a touch softer, “We’re both drunk… what if we regret it in the morning?”

You slowly reach down to cradle his face in your hands. When you speak, it’s with a bold certainty that Yuuji cannot argue with: “I know I won’t regret it.”

Yuuji nods his head. With that anxiety out of the way, he surges up to kiss you with renewed vigor, tugging his jacket off of you and pulling the hem of your top over your chest to reveal your tits. When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the pretty lace bra you had opted to wear out tonight.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuji says softly. A groan catches in his throat as you roll your hips down against his, delicious friction against his erection that has you mewling for more.

“Yu,” you sigh out as he unhooks your bra with clumsy fingers, pulling your shirt off as well in one go. The garments flutter to the floor, forgotten.

“I mean it—you really are.” His voice has noticeably deepened, taking on a huskier tone that makes your toes curl. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I never can.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, quick and chaste, drawing a path down your jaw, the slope of your neck. He removes a hand from your waist to palm at your sensitive breast, drawing a whimper from you that has his cock twitching in his pants. “I can’t believe you’ve never noticed. Our friends tease me all the time for it, you know?” He sighs, nearly a whine, words slurring together in a lust-drunk haze as he presses a kiss to your collar. “I could never take another girl home with me because I only want you.”

Yuuji’s drunken confession sends you reeling, thighs tightening together around him as you tilt his chin up towards you. Love and adoration glimmers in your eyes as you respond gently, “I only want you, too.”

He smiles at you then, scooping you up in his arms as he rises. “Don’t wanna ruin the couch,” he murmurs, strong hands grasping at the fat of your ass as he carries you with ease. “Your room or mine?”

“Yu—” you gasp, clutching onto him for dear life, “mine, please.”

Even drunk, he moves with you with a practiced ease—as if you’ve done this your entire lives. As he lays you on your bed, he curls over you, lips pressing together messily as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt. There’s a brief moment where he pants, “Can I take them off, pretty? Can I?,” as he nips at your lower lip. You nod your head; immediately he’s sliding them off, leaving you in your lacy undergarments and feeling unfairly naked compared to him. You cross your arms over your chest shyly.

Yuuji smiles sweetly as he kneels, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“Don’t hide from me, baby. I wanna see you..” He trails off as he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. You can only manage to nod your head—words have entirely escaped you at this point. If you spoke, you weren’t sure what, exactly, would come out.

The way he pulls the fabric off of you is almost reverent, his eyes never leaving your body as he sets your panties to the side. His breath is hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Baby,” Yuuji starts, the pet name falling from his lips with ease, like something familiar, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Calloused fingertips press into the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs open, even going as far as hooking a leg over his shoulder as he settles between them. His breath is hot and heavy as he grows closer to your core. It’s embarrassing, and you want to press your legs together, but Yuuji doesn’t allow this. He’s firm in his place, holding your legs wide open, baring you to him.

He starts gentle. A kiss to the apex of your thighs, a gentle finger running along your sensitive, weeping slit. A shiver runs down your spine as he parts you open, eyes raptly on you.

“Don’t stare,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.”

He murmurs a soft apology, taking one more second for himself before he dives right in: tongue lapping at you voraciously, pulling the sweetest of moans from your lips as he eats you out like a man starved. You try to press your thighs together once more but he holds you open, unyielding in his grip as his tongue dips in your slit, then draws upwards, making circles around your clit.

He’s messy in the way he eats you out. He doesn’t hold back, either: he laps at you like he’s a dehydrated man at last finding an oasis, drinking in your juices like it’s the finest of nectars. Slick covers his chin as he raises his head to look at you, half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he eases a finger into you. It slips in with ease, aided by how wet you’ve gotten on just his tongue alone.

Your back arches as he pumps his finger into you. You need more. “Yuuji,” you plead in a broken moan. “Need more—want your cock inside me, I can take it.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he’s nodding his head like an eager puppy, withdrawing his hand and rising to pull his clothes off. You whine, a soft plea of, “hurry, need you now,” that has Yuuji clumsily fumbling at the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even pull them off fully, letting the fabric pool at his ankles as he takes his dick in his hands and presses his hips to yours. His shaft presses against your messy slit, pulsing and needy.

“Fuck,” he curses, a soft whine sounding deep in his throat as his hips cant against yours. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take in the sight: Yuuji, desperate, grasping your legs and nearly folding you in half as his cock rests on your pelvis, your navel. He’s big. The thought of someone his size fucking into you should be scary, but you know Yuuji will take care of you—or perhaps that’s the liquor in your brain telling you that you can take it, that you need him inside of you now.

“You’re gonna feel me so deep, baby,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight. You buck your hips slightly, barely moving thanks to the hold he has on you.

“I can take it,” you repeat, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second. “I need it. Give it to me, Yuuji.” Your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you as finally, finally, he slides the tip against your slit, catching a few times against your clit (”Yuuji, stop teasing me!”) before he finally eases into you, his fat tip breaching your weeping cunt. The stretch burns, but the sensation is not an unwelcome one.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as Yuuji hunches over you, pressing further into your pussy. It feels like it should almost be fucking impossible how deep he reaches inside you like this.

“Baby, baby,” Yuuji whines against the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet. You can feel his chest heave against yours as he struggles to regain his bearings. “You’re so tight—don’t think I can pull out, you feel s’good…”

As he bottoms out, you think you might die like this. His cock fills you so perfectly, pulsing and twitching inside you as he forces himself to still—to give you time to adjust.

You don’t want time, though. You really will fucking die if he doesn’t move soon.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to you to messily slot your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as his hips buck into yours. “Yuuji,” you breathe out against his lips. “Fuck me.”

“Okay, baby.” He nods, pressing his sweat slick forehead to yours as he moves his hips. He starts slower, long strokes that force you to feel all of him, deep and all-consuming and overwhelming your senses with him, strong arms caging you against the bed as he fucks into you again and again and again.

Yuuji’s pace picks up, your moans a sweet melody in his ears that spurs him on, making him lose all ration in his brain—it’s evident, in the way he growls almost animalistically, hips starting to rut into yours with reckless abandon. His balls slap against your ass, accompanied by a lewd squelch with every thrust into your messy cunt.

“Yu, fuck—please,” you sob with every thrust. He angles his hips a little differently until he finds the perfect spot—that sensitive little part of your cunt that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. Once he finds it, he narrows his focus on it, bullying his cock relentlessly into your pussy until you’re sobbing.

Your nails scratch along his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Yuuji groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mouthing and biting at the sensitive flesh as his hips pound into you.

“G’nna cum, don’t stop, ohhhh god,” you gasp out as Yuuji nips at the flesh of your collar. You claw at his back, toes curling in the air when you feel him slide a hand between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit, adding to the orchestra of sensations that are driving you mad with pleasure.

“Cum for me, angel,” Yuuji urges you breathlessly, fucking you with a renewed fervor. His hips are starting to stutter, and his large hands are grasping your thighs in a bruising grip as you convulse around him. His voice alone is enough to tip you over the edge; you’re falling into him, into oblivion, orgasming so hard your vision goes dark for a moment.

A long moan of his name falling from your lips is enough to push him over with you, white hot ropes of his cum coating your pulsing heat. You feel utterly breathless, boneless, as Yuuji slowly eases your legs down. The ache is pleasant.

“Baby,” Yuuji pants softly, breaking the pleasant silence as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. “I’m still… can I..?”

Oh, god. He is still rock hard inside of you. Your pussy is still fluttering with the world-shattering orgasm he had just given you—you’re not sure if you can take more.

But Yuuji looks at you with pleading eyes, your name falling from his lips with such desperation that you’re nodding your head, opening your arms for him. He smiles down at you, and as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his hips slowly start to rut into yours again.

You’re not sure how many rounds you go with Yuuji—the rest of the night is a blur of moans and groans, of him making you cum again and again and again, as many times as you can possibly take.

You wake up with a pounding headache and a foreign weight slung over your chest.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss quietly to yourself, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “How much did I drink last night?”

Blinking open bleary eyes, you squint against the light that filters into the room—your room, which doesn’t make any sense because you never bring home your one night stands. Your hand brushes against the strong arm slung over you, and that’s when you hear an all-too-familiar snore.

“Oh, fuck.” You repeat, dread creeping into your groggy voice.

That was Itadori Yuuji in bed with you. That was your fucking roommate, naked in bed with you. You’re wearing his overly large t-shirt, and there’s an ache between your thighs that explains exactly what had transpired when you returned home with him last night.

You don’t remember too much, typical of nights where you have a little too much to drink. What you can grasp—mere wisps in the back of your mind—are fleeting moments of mind-numbing pleasure, or of sweet-nothings being whispered into your ear. Whatever scraps of memory you do have are enough to make you want to scream into a pillow out of sheer embarrassment.

You feel the arm around you tighten as Yuuji pulls you into his chest and you squeak.

Oh, that’s just fucking mortifying.

“Mmh… huh?” Yuuji mumbles sleepily. He slowly blinks, eyes focusing on you after a few moments. “What are you doing in my bed..?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, grasping at the sheets to keep your lower body covered as you do so. Your mouth opens and closes as you look for the right words to say.

Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. He seems to have come to a realization without you having to say it out loud.

“Oh. This isn’t...” Yuuji frowns. He’s calm in a way that confuses you—why isn’t he freaking out like you are? “We got really hammered last night, huh?”

You slowly nod your head in agreement. “Do you… remember anything?”

Your attention is drawn to his lips when he bites his lower one in thought, then drifts downards when you catch the blooming hickeys on his neck in your peripherals. Oh, god, did you leave those? What were you thinking?

All too slowly, Yuuji’s eyes meet yours. The way he looks at you is almost unbearable. There’s a sinking sensation in your chest: you think he might apologize, or tell you that last night was a mistake. That he won’t let it happen again. Quickly, you blurt, “You don’t have to say it. I get it.”

Yuuji tilts his head, his train of thought forgotten. “Say what?”

“I get that you regret it.” The words start tumbling out of your mouth and there’s little you can do to stop it. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings. I know you’re too kind to just say it outright like that—“

Yuuji opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel onwards, looking down at your lap. You’re too mortified to look at him directly.

“—And I understand if you maybe want to avoid me for awhile? I know things will be awkward, so seriously, take whatever time you need—“

Your onslaught of words is cut off by Yuuji cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to kiss you. It’s gentle, and while it only lasts for a heartbeat, to you it feels like it lasts a lifetime.

Stunned, you lift a hand to your lips, ghosting your fingers over them as you stare at him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded.

“Sorry,” Yuuji starts softly, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “I didn’t know how else to stop you.”

You blink at him, making a noise in the back of your throat. It’s an exhale of breath, of one you didn’t even know you were holding until just now.

“I don’t regret it. And I really hope you don’t, too.” Yuuji sighs gently. When his eyes meet yours, he looks unsure, but he continues, “I meant everything I said last night. You’re beautiful, and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Have been, for awhile now.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage. You think your heart might explode in your chest. It beats an uneven rhythm, pulsing against your ribcage as if it’s bound to break out any moment now.

“I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, yanno? But now that, uh...” He clears his throat. “Last night happened… I might as well come out with it.”

You nod your head as his words sink in. Yuuji visibly gets more distressed with every second that passes in tense silence, so you say, “Okay. I see.”

He swallows—you know what he wants to ask: ‘Do you like me like that, too?’ but he doesn’t voice it out loud. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You carefully deliberate your next words.

“Will you take me on a date, Yuuji?” you ask bluntly.

“What?”

“I said—”

“No, no, I heard what you said.” His eyes widen slightly, stark relief visible in his irises. “Are you sure? I mean—I’d love to. Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, angel. You name it.”

You smile fondly at Yuuji—you think if he had a tail, it would be wagging ferociously right about now. “First, you can get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. Then we’ll talk about date plans, ‘kay?”

Yuuji nods his head fervently. He rises out of bed—and quickly realizes that he’s still naked. “Oh—shit, don’t look,” he stammers, lunging for his boxers that were conveniently laid out on the floor as he blushes. Once he’s got those pulled on, he turns towards you. You’ve politely averted your eyes.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmurs, grabbing your attention by gently grasping your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Anything else I should grab ya?”

You feel your face warm up at the affection as you shake your head. With a smile, Yuuji shuffles out of your room to go fetch your requested items.

As you sit in the quiet of your bedroom, listening to Yuuji rustle through the bathroom, you think that maybe fucking your roommate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[arahdow]

SKILLED FINGERS

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. the way they would unclasp a bra. suggestiveness, nsfw. silver’s the shortest but the freakiest hehe. kinda ooc characters. MDNI

Word count. 1.5 k

A/N. I suddenly had the urge to write about this while talking with a friend abt how there’s men who can unclasp a bra with one hand but there are others who really struggle hehe so yeah!! i had quite the time of my life writing this sjdjs and the playlist filled with sex songs really inspired me, so, here!!

+ I was quite surprised with silver’s!!!! my hands moved on its own ! and the one with shadow, i actually got inspired from a fanart i saw on pinterest 🥵 so yeah, i did my research JDJDJSJ

++ I also wrote this while being REALLY sick so forgive me if there’s something poor written :( not beta read !!

SONIC

He gets really excited, and actually knows how to do it but because he’s impatient he can’t find it in himself to take his time

Both of them came back from a mission on green hill. The truth was that Sonic had actually gone to another place for a week now, this was the first time they saw each other after a week, and spending their first moments fighting wasn’t her cup of tea.

But now they were coming home.

Panting into each other’s mouths, his body guiding her to the edge of their bed. His hands were everywhere at the same time, his heartbeat was quick as he kept kissing her. Without parting, she got on her knees on the bed, Sonic quickly followed her. 

They both were now kissing on their knees, her hands roaming around his back, playing carefully with his quills, then coming up to cup his face, caressing his cheeks. 

The blue hedgehog took the girl from her waist and pulled her close, until she was almost sitting on his lap, both her knees on the sides of his thighs. Taking her top off of her in such a hurried way, she thought he was about to rip the piece of cloth from her body. The man was so excited, impatient. Parting from her lips for a moment, his hand roamed on her back, finding the clasp of her bra quickly. 

Giving her a smirk with hooded eyes, he started moving the clasp around, back and forth, pulling, pushing. Nothing. The girl came back from her dazed state and noticed that Sonic was actually having a hard time taking the undergarment off of her. 

Waiting for a bit, looking at his concentrated eyes, she started to giggle a bit. 

“Need assistance, love?” She asked, her hand going to her own back to end the blue hedgehog’s suffering.

But Sonic had none of that. He slapped her hand away and groaned. “I can do it! I’ve taken it off of you other times, why can’t… I… Now?” He struggled, his voice getting desperate.

She let him keep on trying until she couldn't wait any more. Sliding her own hand towards the clasp, she undid the bra easily. Sonic murmured a low “mhm”, as he continued on kissing her chest, stomach, sliding down. He looked at her with hooded eyes, his face pressed against her thigh as he admired the view.

“Gorgeous.” He winked, brushing his lips on her skin as he started doing hickeys on her thighs. If there was something Sonic quite enjoyed, it was teasing. And it showed.

SHADOW

VERY SKILLED. Doesn’t exactly know why he knows how to do it, but he’s cocky about it, nonetheless.

Shadow had just gotten home from beating the shit out of Sonic. It was a hobby at this point, not even something necessary. He came through the door stretching his arms over his head as he walked into the kitchen. 

His significant other was making dinner, thank chaos because he was actually getting very hungry from the previous activities. Smiling at him, the girl looked up from the stove, as she turned it off.

“My love! How was hunting Sonic?” She asked jokingly, as Shadow got close to her, carrying her to sit on the counter, his gloved hand taking her face using his thumb and index finger to hold her chin.

“I still have lots of energy, mhm.” He replied huskily on her ear, as he kissed her cheek, then her jaw and last her neck. “Are you going to do something about it?” 

After a few more words from him and a couple of kisses down her clavicle, the room got quite hot, and it wasn’t for her cooking. 

“Mhm, Shadow… The food.” The girl tried to complain.

“Shh, I'm having quite the feast here, doll.” He replied simply, his mouth still latched on her skin.

In seconds, Shadow put his hand in front of her. She knew exactly what he wanted. Using her teeth, she chewed the tip of his white glove, taking it off slowly. His breath hitched for a second.

Because that was a rule when being intimate: No clothes between both of them. Including his gloves.

As his hands returned on her body, he touched her naked back. She quickly felt his fingers looking for the clasp of her bra. She was about to offer to take it off herself, when he found it, the thing gave in rather quickly, making her gasp.

Shadow looked at her in the eye, his eyes scanned her flustered expression and smiled cockily. Sliding the straps off her shoulders, slowly, teasingly. She could actually feel his heartbeat as her hands pressed against his chest. The hand that wasn’t sliding the strap was caressing her thigh. His lips pressed as he stared at her chest. 

A glint showed on his red irises. Oh man. 

SILVER

Not very skilled with his fingers BUT he uses psychokinesis ofc

The girl knew she wasn’t playing fair, but she wanted to push as many buttons as she could. Actually buying those pheromones she saw on the internet, and this could go either too good or nothing could happen. She didn’t believe there were any bad consequences for her actions.

Until now.

Well, it wasn’t that bad…

But the way Silver’s face was actually smashed on her neck, licking, biting, kissing and more made her brain turn into a non thinkable goo. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, grabbing, caressing her skin, like he wanted to combine both their bodies. 

Not only that, but he was rutting against her leg, desperate whining noises coming from his throat. The girl was losing it too, but it was obvious his body was actually on fire. His cheeks blushed a pretty red, and he actually managed to drool all over her sternum.

Her hand threaded on his quills, sliding down until she could feel his chest fur. Doing an experimental tug, the man nearly came on the spot. A breathless moan left his lips as he continued panting over her, his hands positioned on either side of her head. 

The girl kissed him hungrily, getting excited by the whole situation. 

“Love…” She tried speaking but Silver grunted, taking his girlfriend with one arm under her back, making her sit in front of him. His pupils were blown and his breathing was accelerated. He had no time to think about that damn clasp, so he snapped one of his fingers, the cyan aura forming on his hand and then, the girl felt the bra fall off her chest.

Using his psychokinesis to do such a thing turned her on, she wondered what else he could do with such power.

KNUCKLES

He just rips it off

It was common knowledge that Knuckles wasn’t the most patient or delicate guy, especially when it came to having intimate moments like this one. Rouge threw a little party for her birthday, everyone was invited and, being the showy bat she was, it was quite a formal party. So the girl decided she was about to go wild with her dress.

The piece she wore was a deep green, sleeveless dress. The neck of the dress was high, the thing hugging her curves. it looked rather simple until you looked at the back of it, a slit running all down the low back. It was gorgeous, and she felt untouchable with such a piece.

Amy actually helped her choose the dress, and she also recommended using a specific type of bra so it wouldn’t be noticeable. The straps turned and twisted, it was something difficult to put on, but she didn’t mind, as long as she looked good in the dress.

And now it was time for the reveal. Knuckles actually wanted to wear something nice, so he dressed up (she helped him choose his outfit. He also asked to help her with hers but she declined saying she had a surprise for him). 

Walking out of the room, the girl walked confidently towards her boyfriend sitting on the sofa, his legs spread and his elbows were positioned on his thighs, making him lean forwards. Too caught up in his mind, he didn’t notice until the girl was beside him. She cleared her throat and that did the trick.

His eyes flew open as he got up from the sofa, walking towards his partner. 

“My… You look gorgeous.” He said, kissing her cheek, that’s when he positioned a hand on her back noticing the slit. He swallowed, nervously. “Say, doll, what if we arrive a few minutes late?”

He asked, his hands starting to roam, sitting on her butt. The girl smiled, patting his chest. “Rouge will kill us if we arrive late.”

Knuckles hissed, finding a button that undid her whole dress. “I think we’d survive.” Were his last words before he carried the girl to bed.

Kissing and palming all over her, the man took a look at her bra and without a second notice, he ripped it off from her. She let out a surprised gasp. 

“Now how am I going to use the dress, Knux!” She exclaimed, feeling him grin, his breath caressing her chest. 

“Use it without that bra, it would look better, doll.”

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

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

wc: 2.1k

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

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

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

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

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

it was the only race he ever lost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

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

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[seivsite]

BRUSHSTROKES OF MAGIC.

includes: lyney x fem!reader. painter!reader, fluff, may be ooc lyney, painter and her magician muse — wc: 591

You had finally secured tickets to Lyney and Lynette’s captivating Magic Show.

After putting in hard work through small art commissions and assisting others, your perseverance paid off. Luckily, you found yourself seated in the second row, enjoying a perfect view of the entire stage. As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the enchanting magicians.

“Welcome to Lyney and Lynette’s Magic Show!” Lyney exclaimed, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture.

The performance unfolded before your eyes, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

The show concluded with a burst of applause, whistles, and amazed cheers filling the room. Lyney and Lynette took their bows, expressing gratitude to the audience before exiting the stage.

While others started to leave the theatre, you remained lost in your thoughts, unable to tear yourself away.

You noticed Lyney’s occasional glances in your direction, but you brushed them off, assuming he was merely engaging with the audience. Your hands moved instinctively, retrieving a small paper and a worn pencil that you carried everywhere. Swiftly, you sketched the scene, capturing the magicians as the focal point.

Unaware of another presence, you snapped out of your trance when a red rose materialised before you.

Your eyes widened at the sight, then lifted to meet the culprit—a mischievous grin adorning his face.

“Well, M’lady, perhaps we should step outside before we find ourselves locked in here,” he suggested, tucking the flower gently into your hair. Extending his hand, he invited you to join him.

You accepted his hand, and he turned to his sister, who stood waiting.

“Took you quite a while,” she remarked, her expression unchanging.

“Apologies, Lynette. It seems M’lady was deeply absorbed in thought,” he responded.

“Please stop addressing me like that,” you murmured, your cheeks tinged with a blush.

“Apologies again! I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing your name. I’m Lyney. This is my sister, Lynette, and you are...?” He walked alongside you as the three of you departed the theatre.

“(Name), pleased to make your acquaintance,” you replied.

From that day forward, your bond with Lyney grew remarkably strong, much to Lynette’s amusement as she shook her head at her brother’s persistent attempts to win you over.

In a meadow bursting with vibrant blooms, Lyney stood amidst the flowers, becoming both your muse and a devoted spectator. As your brush danced gracefully across the canvas, each stroke seemed to weave a rich tapestry of emotions.

“Are you almost finished, M’lady?” Lyney’s voice broke the tranquil air as he noticed your momentary pause.

“Hmm, just a few more minutes,” you replied, urging him to remain where he stood.

When the art piece finally took shape, it radiated colours and beauty that surpassed mere brushwork. Lyney was thoroughly impressed, unable to contain himself as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, prompting a delightful blush from you.

“Thank you for immortalising me in your art, M’lady. I shall treasure it,” Lyney expressed, his tone sincere.

“It’s no big deal,” you replied with a smile. Lyney settled beside the portrayal of yourself, gazing at you with unwavering attention.

“Is something wrong?” you questioned, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanour.

“No, it’s just that something has been occupying my thoughts,” he confessed, his fond gaze fixed on you.

Your head tilted in curiosity, awaiting an explanation.

“Despite my belief in the wonder of my magic tricks, they pale in comparison to your beauty and talent. I’m afraid, M’lady, that you’ve stolen my heart. So, will you do me the honour of accepting this responsibility?”

NOTES. he’s cute i like the idea of painter!reader w lyney whos a magician, also my second genshin work weee. kinda rushed this so whatever plot i have is a bit wonky, maybe.

TAG LIST. @yanqingisim

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[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ SLEEP AID ! - choso / 10.13 / kinktober

CW: fingering, female receiving, oral sex, they're housemates, fem bodied reader, she/her used, choso might be ooc bc i've never written for him lolll Word Count: 1.9k Author's Note: sorry for the late chapter but hi guysss lol i hope you enjoy the eighth post of my kinktober series! ily all sm MWAH <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated

as choso walked up the familiar steps to his apartment, a hint of excitement simmered under his calm exterior. his week-long trip with yuji had been fun, but he’d missed the quiet comfort of home—and his housemate, y/n. returning a day early was a small indulgence, an excuse to surprise her and share a rare moment of normalcy between them.

when he unlocked the door, the silence in the apartment suggested she was out. he left his bag by the entrance, his footsteps quiet as he wandered down the hall. passing by her slightly ajar bedroom door, he was about to keep going when a soft, muffled sound caught his attention.

curious, he paused, listening. through the narrow gap in the door, he could make out y/n lying on her bed, eyes closed, hands drifting over her body with a slow intensity that left little to the imagination. her breathing was heavy, and the way she whispered his name—soft, needy—sent a jolt through him.

choso’s mind whirled as his pulse quickened, and he found himself rooted to the spot, caught between the urge to back away and the magnetic pull of the scene unfolding before him. he swallowed hard, the intimacy of her whispered sighs mingling with an unexpected rush of his own feelings. he hadn’t realized she felt this way, and the realization brought a mix of excitement and confusion surging through him.

torn between retreating to give her privacy and making his presence known, he eventually took a shaky breath, deciding to step back. he made his way to the couch, sinking into it with his mind buzzing, trying to shake the image and sounds from his head. but her soft murmurs lingered, and he felt himself more keenly aware of his own need for her—a need he’d long hidden behind his usual laid-back demeanor.

a few minutes later, he heard her door creak open. y/n stepped out, visibly surprised when her eyes landed on him. “choso?” she breathed, her cheeks feeling hot as she registered his presence.

he glanced up, giving her a reassuring smile, keeping his tone casual. “hey. came back early,” he said, watching her face as she struggled to gauge if he’d heard anything. trying to brush off her surprise, y/n gave a quick laugh and sauntered over, plopping down on the couch beside him. “back already? and here i thought i’d have the place all to myself,” she teased, keeping her tone light.

choso raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “oh, did you have something fun planned?”

she shrugged, crossing her legs and leaning back with a playful grin. “maybe i was just doing a little… relaxation, you know? girl stuff.” she glanced at him with a mischievous look, clearly hoping her casual response would throw him off.

he chuckled, leaning in closer. “relaxation, huh?” he echoed, letting the word linger between them. “sounded like you were really enjoying yourself in there.”

she stiffened for a second but quickly forced a laugh, rolling her eyes. “you must be hearing things. i was probably just… watching a video or something.” she tried to keep her tone breezy, her breath a bit shaky.

“mm, sure,” choso replied, his voice low and anything but convincing. “i mean, if you say so. just seemed like something had your attention. especially with the way you kept saying my name.”

her eyes widened, and she quickly stifled a laugh, nudging his shoulder. “oh, please! don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, her voice playful but betraying a hint of nervousness. “you think you’re the only one i think about?”

he shrugged, leaning back and draping an arm casually over the back of the couch, letting his eyes roam over her with a knowing glint. “well, i wouldn’t want to assume, but… let’s just say i’m flattered if i happened to be on your mind.” he chuckled, his gaze lingering a moment longer, making her blush deepen.

she pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes with mock confidence. “maybe i’ll just have to keep you guessing,” she said, giving him a coy smile. “wouldn’t want you getting a big head now, would we?”

choso laughed, shaking his head. “guess i’ll just have to keep an ear out next time. wouldn’t want to miss out if you’re… ‘relaxing’ again.” he playfully rolled his eyes, enjoying the way her flustered expression peeked through her playful demeanor.

y/n rolled her eyes, but the embarrassment she was feeling was obvious. “whatever, choso. don’t get too comfortable; maybe next time i won’t be so… vocal.”

he grinned, relaxing back into the couch, his gaze steady and warm. “maybe,” he murmured, “but i’m glad to be back anyway.” as they shared a knowing look, the unspoken tension simmered beneath their teasing, both of them acutely aware that the boundaries of their relationship had shifted—just a little closer.

---

a few nights later, choso lay in bed, trying to will himself back to sleep. he had never been one to wake up easily, but tonight something had stirred him—a soft sound from down the hall, faint but unmistakable. as he listened, his heart picked up, recognizing the muffled sighs and whispered moans drifting through the stillness of the apartment.

he pushed the covers back and padded quietly down the hallway, stopping just outside her door. it was cracked open slightly, just enough for him to see her stretched out on her bed, hands moving over her body, eyes shut tight as she murmured his name. he swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken, and before he could talk himself out of it, he rapped lightly on the doorframe.

y/n’s eyes flew open, and she froze, caught in the act. choso leaned against the door, his gaze steady, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

“you’ve been at it for a while now, n/n,” he said, his voice low and calm. “need help?”

her face flushed, but she didn’t look away, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. “choso…” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability in her voice, like she was caught between embarrassment and anticipation.

he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “you don’t have to hide it,” he murmured, his tone gentle, reassuring. “if you want me, i’m here.”

for a moment, there was silence, both of them suspended in the charged space between them. finally, she gave a small, almost shy nod, and choso crossed the room, sinking onto the bed beside her, his touch warm and steady as he reached for her.

he pulled the sheet from her lap, revealing her bare sex. "can i taste you?" he questioned, making y/n push her legs together tighter. "I've never tried that with anyone before..." she said, voice hesitant.

"i'll help you relax." he smiled, knowing that it was all he had to do to convince y/n with anything. "its embarrassing though." a frown was on her lips, but she didn't stop choso's hand that met with her knee, pulling her leg apart from the other. "what are you embarrassed for?"

she was going to reply, but her words were caught in her throat when his gaze trailed down to her sex. "go slow." she muttered. he hummed, pushing the hem of her shirt up just a bit. he leaned down, wrapping an arm around her thigh. he did the same with his opposite arm, spreading her legs to reveal the entirety of her sex.

his tongue laid a stripe against her bud and her body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation, he looked up at her from below, his tongue moving slowly in different patterns as he tried to figure out which one brought her the better reaction. her lips were parted, heavy breaths escaping in a fast pace.

his tongue circled around her bud before his lips latched around them. with a simple suck, y/n's legs threatened to close around his head, but he held her legs in place. he pulled away, the warmth of his breath fanning the sensetive area. he used one of his hands to part her folds before he laid his tongue flat against her once again. the warmth elicited a moan from y/n and choso flickers his tongue against her bud, the repeated sensations making his grip the fabric of her comforter.

he let out a moan against her, the rumbling vibration of the low octave only adding to the pleasure. her lips lifted as she pressed herself closer to him. her free hand roamed all around her and choso noticed this. his locked eyes with her, taking her wrist in his hold before placing her hand on top of his head. "use me." was all he said before returning to her bud, the sucking sensation returning.

her arousal was slowly pooling beneath her and choso only devoured the taste of her, spreading it against her sex. she couldn’t help but want more, making her run her fingers through his hair, pushhing him down closer to her. in her many fantasies of him,she never took choso to be the kind of person to have this kind of skill.

y/n hadn’t done something like this before, but she was sure that choso was doing something, if not, everything correctly. the sounds coming from below her were a mix of his soft moans and her arousal mixed with the wetness of his tongue. her own hands were nothing compared to this and she'd wished that this was something they'd done long ago. it could've saved her weeks of sleepless nights. the mornings when choso would notice the bags under her eyes paired with dark circles.

"couldn’t sleep last night?" he'd question.

she would only shake her head as a response, feeling too much guilt to make up a lie straight infront of him. she would watch the look of pity in his eyes as she would pour an extra cup of coffee to try and keep herself awake for the day.

she was sure that tomorrow morning, that would be the case once again, but with the way that choso’s tongue moved and the way her hips moved against her will, she would be out like a light in no time. y/n muttered words of praise to him when his tongue flickered against his bud while his lips were still wrapped around her.

he let out a deeper moan against her sex and y/n let out a small whine. he gripped the flesh of her thighs, needy for her release just as much as she was. his fingers were inserted, the combination being just enough to bring her to just what she'd been chasing for the past hour or two.

she gritted her teeth, her head falling back as choso looked up at her, taking in the sight. he groaned, the image before his eyes driving his movements to quicken. the longing feeling of pleasure washed over her and her legs trembled in choso's arms. "f-fuck.." she moaned in a barely audible whisper.

her released her abused bud, his tongue swiping the corner of his lips, the taste of y/n's arousal slowly becoming his new addiction.

he wiped his lips, glancing up at her with a soft, almost shy smile. “you taste so good, pretty,” he murmured, eyes full of warmth. “could do this all night, if you let me.”

y/n's eyes were low, but she noticed the tent beneath his pants.

"will you? please?" he asked, leaning back down before she could even finish her dazed nod.

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[zombii-writess]

𝙰 𝚃𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚈𝚘𝚞

Synopsis: You and Ren have been cuddling for the past few hours, on their request, but then you get the urge to put something in your mouth. Good thing Ren’s here to help you to satisfy your needs. 

Tags: blowjob, established relationship, deepthroating, male pleasure, gagging, slight edging, smut, slight ooc Ren? idk

Word Count: 985

Pairings: Ren/Redacted x AFAB Reader

A/N: literally had a dream that I sucked Ren’s dick idk how that even happened also Ren/Redacted brain rot AHHH AND ANOTHER THING MINORS/ AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!

Ren/Redacted belongs to @14dayswithyou

“A-ah! A-Angel…wai-fuck!~”

“Sl-..ngh! Slow down!” 

“Y-you’re so…mmf! Eager!”

The faint pounding of the rain echoed through the empty apartment. The room was dark and cold. The only source of warmth was coming from a bundle of blankets on the large bed and who laid in them was you and Ren, all cuddled up. The pink haired man had his scarred fingers scratch at your scalp, making you practically pur at the feeling. Your arms were wrapped around their waist, face snuggled into their cardigan. The smell of mint and fresh linen invades your senses. Ren beams at the sight of you so relaxed and wrapped up in his arms. 

You toss a leg over Ren’s hips and shift positions before grumbling and shifted into another position. Ren lifts his head from his soft pillow from your constant movements.

“[Name]?” They call out softly. You move your gaze over to meet concerned blue ones. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” You hastily replied, pulling your face away from Ren’s soft cardigan and instead rested your chin on his chest. “Just being weird, y’know?” They chuckle, nuzzling their nose into your head.

“You know you can say whatever's on your mind, Angel.” He softly kisses at your neck and your face heats up.

Sighing, you eventually gave up. “I kind of want something in my mouth, like candy to suck on.” Ren stutters and lifts himself onto his elbows, cheeks bright red. 

“I-is that so?” They were flabbergasted and you snort, hand going to caress Ren’s clothed stomach while you moved your body to settle in between Ren’s legs. 

“Obviously I’m not in a biting mood, more like a,” You drifted on, lowering yourself down his body, rubbing his thighs that shivered at your warm touch. “I want something to occupy my mouth kind of mood.”

The pink haired man lifts his arm to cover the bottom half of his red face, eyes not straying from yours. “[N-Name]!” He gasped, hips jerking into the air. Giggling you decide to stop your touching and rest your chin against his lower belly, he gulps. 

You stick out your tongue. “Just kidding!” 

Your boyfriend whines, rocking his hips into you in desperation. You were about to mock him when you felt a wet sticky substance on your shirt. Looking down, you spot a dark spot on Ren’s sweatpants. “U-unless you want me to…” You added, face growing warm as Ren rapidly nods their head. 

Taking that as a green light, you proceed to slide to the edge of the bed along with tugging on Ren’s pants down before scarred hands quickly grab onto yours. You stop and look at Ren who’s eyes dart around your face before meeting your [Eye color] eyes. 

“Do you, uhm, think you can wear a blindfold?” They nervously asked, intertwining their fingers with yours. “I-I’m sorry for the sudden request, [Name].” 

You shake your head, easing his nerves a bit. “Hey! No worries!” Scanning the room, you try to find something to cover your eyes with. Ren shifts and pulls something from underneath his pillow. It was a black silk sleeping mask. 

“Here, you can use this.” They reach over and place the mask over your eyes and your world is enveloped in darkness. Ren hums, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “You look angelic like this, Angel.” 

You giggle, cheeks burning from your boyfriend’s compliments. Then you hear the ruffling of clothes being taken off and immediately lock in, licking your lips in anticipation. Ren lets out a sigh of relief after releasing their cock from its containment, the musky smell invades your nostrils and you fight the urge to just swallow it whole. 

“D-do you need help or should I-'' Ren begins only to be cut off with a yelp after you reach over to blindly brush against his weeping tip. White pearls dripped down your hand as you used a finger to rub the slit in a circular motion. Ren groans, reaching down to lift his shirt up to not dirty it, not like you noticed it or anything. “[N-Name]!” 

Scooching closer to the bed, you lick a trail from Ren’s cock from the base all the way to the tip. Their legs tensed, shivers of pleasure running down their spine. “Fuuu…uck!” More whimpers escaped his plump red lips from biting back his louder noises. 

The salty taste of their precum makes you lick your lips, your eyes fluttering at the taste. Ren groans, eyes locked onto your head watching closely as you open your mouth and take his head, giving it a harsh suck. They roll their blue eyes to the back of their skull, pearly rows of teeth biting down on his plump pink lips.

This encourages you more, one of your hands reaching over to fondle his balls causing him to let out another moan. Ren’s toes curl once his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag. “A-An-fuck! [Name]! I..I’m gonna-” 

The pink haired man shuts his eyes and arches his back beautifully off the bed as they release into your mouth. With a moan, you swallow what you could and remove your lips from their cock with a small wet pop! Ren’s face was flushed, chest heaving, and his cheeks were covered in tears. You wished you could see what their face looked like right now. 

Swallowing a glob of spit, Ren settles a scarred hand on your head. “W-wow Angel, you were very excited..!”

“I’m not done.”

He blinks, a confused smile forming on their face. “W-what?”

“We’re not stopping, I still want something in my mouth.” You purred, blindly placing your hand back onto his weeping cock and gave it a few pumps. Your boyfriend cries out from the overstimulation.

“W-well then!” He groaned. “You c-ccan…fuck- do whatever you - ah, want!” 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

rushed and unedited, I might come back and actually make it better soon

also SOOOO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! honestly I got lazy and then writers block and other shit happened ;(( but we good

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[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. anyway no warnings for you guys today besides maybe this is boring lol

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a/n: young coryo has me in a death grip rn guys this could be a problem-

next part

Fists clenched at your sides, you storm up to the front of the hall, staring intently at the Dean. You knew your odds were better pleading with Dr. Gaul, but that was a task far from your mind. "Miss Y/L/N, I don't have time for your petty complaints at the moment." He dismisses you before you even reach an appropriate distance to start your discussion.

"I was waiting for this." Festus chuckles, commenting on how none of the chosen mentors had a chance to process anything or even speak before you were stomping down the centre aisle, between all their seats, and up towards the podium where Dean Highbottom now stood.

Coriolanus found his gaze following you, despite his better judgment telling him to focus on the subject- scratch that, problem, at hand: his assignment of the mentorship of Lucy Gray Baird. She was fiery, that's for sure, and upon first impressions, she reminded him of you.

"You think I couldn't handle it, is that it?" You almost shout, discarding all formality in favour of getting answers. 

"You knew the qualifications, Miss Y/L/N." The Dean sighs.

"I got one B over a year ago! God, hold a grudge much? You're miserable!" People are staring now, noticeably, but you don't care. You're used to getting what you want, and the one time you don't, it comes back to bite you in the ass over a year later.

"Then you should have done better. Drop this or I'll demerit you." He states in response, clearly hardly caring. You huff, face red as you storm off again, making a point of slamming the door open so hard it hits the wall with a bang.

Coriolanus never understood fully why the Dean let you parade around with this attitude directed at him, but never so much as lifted a finger to punish you. If he had made a scene like that, he would have been expelled on the spot. "I should go after her." He turns to look at Sejanus as he's getting up, quickly gathering himself to follow after you. He had little interest in staying anyway.

"I'll go." Coriolanus stands, placing his hand on Sejanus' chest to stop him. "You stay. I'll sort her out."

"Coriolanus Snow, off to sedate his girlfriend again." Arachne teases as he walks off, leaving Sejanus to defend his name in his stead. He'd much prefer talking you down to uselessly explaining to the other kids in your class that the two of you were nothing more than friends. It was a wasteful endeavour. You were just the only one who's presence he could stand in a social capacity.

You made it outside, pacing the large front steps of the academy, fighting the urge to rip off your skirt and burn it right there. Along with the rest of the building.

"Y/N." You pause when you hear the door close behind someone, looking up to see your friend.

"Coryo." You reply, continuing with your fruitless crusade at this point.

"What happened to not caring about the prize?" He asks, stepping down so he's level with you on the staircase, getting in your path so you can no longer pace.

"I don't care about the prize." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's not about that."

"I doubt that." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow at you. You had told him at length you didn't care about the prize when you found out you weren't even in the running, because your parents could pay your tuition anyway. He envied your privilege, but he had never envied you.

"No, it's not." You insist. "I got one less than stellar grade one time and now I'm missing out on this opportunity- effectively throwing away any shot I have at Gamemaker."

"That's dramatic." Your friend replies. "I think you're better off than me."

You scoff. "Oh, boo hoo, Coriolanus Snow. I'd take Lucy Gray in a second."

"Just because she can cause a scene doesn't mean she'll last a minute in the games." He replies.

"Duh, it's not about winning. It's about the experience, it's about-"

"Being on TV?" He asks, and despite his serious expression you know it's a joke.

"Even you know I'm not that shallow. I'm not Arachne." You can't help but smile. He does too, for just a second. "And frankly, I'm offended at the insinuation."

"Then enlighten me, Y/N Y/L/N." Coriolanus prompts, and suddenly your demeanor changes in a way he would deem hardly noticeable if he hadn't known you for years.

You sigh, dropping your tense shoulders. "My father will be up in arms when he finds out." You answer, voice in a whisper despite being alone out here. "I'm an embarrassment to my family name."

"That's impossible." He shakes his head quickly. "You're their pride and joy. A gem of the Capitol."

"Ah, but for how long?" You reply, poking his chest. "Until the oldest Y/L/N child doesn't get a mentorship? Until my brother does in three years and I am an irrelevant face in the University halls and he is winning the Plinth prize?" The small smile on your face fades as you look down, thinking over the consequences for the first time.

"Perhaps, but one day that will come back to bite anyone who doubted you when you're the new head Gamemaker. I'll be sure of it." He nods, and your smile returns. 

"Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you." You giggle, raising your hand in a salute. You had heard his cousin say that to him once, two or three years ago by now, and you were not prepared to let it go. You can tell it was something he believed, despite the misshapen buttons on his dress shirt and the weight he'd steadily lost over all the years you'd known him. Who were you to deny him his ambitions? Everyone else was fooled, so you would act as though you were as well. The same way he had habitually ignored the bruises on your arms and under your makeup the day after you brought home that B grade last year.

He just nods in response, jokingly tugging at his vest in pride. 

"I hate to tell you that I will have to decline your generous offer." You say, and he looks confused. "I don't need your charity. I'll make it so you'd be a fool not to hire me, Mister President."

You sit down on the stairs, looking out at the city. He joins you a moment later, dusting off the ground beneath him before letting his clothes touch the surface.

"So, how are you feeling?" You ask, sick now of talking about yourself.

"Honestly, not great." Coriolanus answers. "She'll be first down, and I'll be out. We're about at odds with each other, I have no shot at the prize now."

"I don't know, Coryo." You smile a little, bumping his shoulder with your own as you try to reassure him. "Lucy Gray has a or two fight in her. I can tell."

"She reminds me of you, a little bit." 

"Is that a bad thing?" You chuckle.

"No." He shakes his head. "You never back down from a fight. Even if you should."

You laugh, turning a little to hide the burning in your cheeks. "I suppose I could see the resemblance. I'm no stranger to telling someone to kiss my ass."

"That's true." He nods, smiling but not quite laughing. You're not sure you could remember seeing him laugh, not since Felix fell down the stairs in the lecture hall a few years ago and screamed like a girl. "Maybe you could help me."

"Help you? How?" You ask, brow furrowed as you look over at him. Whatever it is you'll agree. He knows too much about you for you to deny him anyway, and it's not like you really had anything to lose. If you couldn't have the Plinth prize, you'd want it to go to Coriolanus.

"With Lucy Gray. I don't even know where to start, what to think, what to do." He explains.

"Well..." You think about it for a second. "If you want her to listen to you in any capacity, she'll have to trust you. So be nice. And maybe convince her to sing again. People were talking, that's what you want. It's the best you can do."

He nods, sitting up straighter. "Thank you, Y/N. I have to go." Before you can respond, he's gone back into the building behind you. You sigh, calmer now, despite dreading the prospective task of having to go home and face your father.

"Mister Snow, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Gaul asks, readjusting her gloves without looking up at the boy as she throws what he assumes to be some kind of food into a blacked-out tank in front of him.

"I'd like Y/N Y/L/N to be my partner in the mentorship," Coriolanus states, making her pause.

"Why?" She asks simply, resuming her task.

"I believe she would be an asset for Lucy Gray."

"They do have a similar... spark. Don't they?" Dr. Gaul nods a little bit to herself. "But what makes you think that this wouldn't be an unfair advantage?"

"It wouldn't be an advantage. More like an experiment." He answers, effectively piquing the doctor's interest. "We can observe the benefits and faults of two mentors versus one, moving into the next games, and the effect of choosing based on compatibility, rather than random, careless selection."

Dr. Gaul hums, wiping off her leather gloves with a cloth as she thinks it over. "And this would have nothing to do with your relationship and sympathies towards Miss Y/L/N, correct?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Miss Y/L/N certainly doesn't get any sympathy from me." It's not a lie, at least he doesn't perceive it to be. You would be an asset to his cause, to his deliverance of the prize, and likely the most pleasant person to work with, ironically.

"I will think about it." Dr. Gaul states. "But the prize will not be awarded to her in any capacity, you must understand."

Maybe he does feel bad for you. He's entitled to that prize, no doubt, but it's hard to picture a world where you wouldn't be the runner-up; even if that is his reality. "I understand." He nods, before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul draws his attention once more, causing him to stop and look back at her. "Don't let her charm you."

"Y/N!" You look up from your textbook toward the door, knowing your brother will be opening it any second after he calls you. Surely enough, he does. "Coriolanus Snow is here. He wants to speak with you."

"Can you show him up to the library?" You ask, quickly wiping your reddened eyes.

"He's there with dad already." Your brother tells you and you sniff, nodding a little bit. "Thank you. Tell them I'll be right there."

You quickly throw on a sweater, double-checking in the mirror that you don't look like you were just crying before leaving. Besides a little bit of redness around your eyes and blotchiness on your chest covered by the sweater, you should be okay.

"Well, thank you for extending your influence on my daughter's behalf. I owe you a great deal." You hear your dad speaking from down the hall as you get closer. "Though, I wouldn't fault you if you changed your mind. I understand she will be a burden on you."

"No, sir. It would be an honour to work with her." You hear Coryo say as you step into the door frame. 

You knock gently on the open door, alerting them both of your presence. "Y/N." Your father says, nodding toward your friend. "Coriolanus has pulled some strings to try and help you maintain what's left of your reputation."

You sniff and nod, looking over at Coryo as he stands across from your dad in your library, posture perfect like a soldier standing at attention. His professionalism will always impress you, it never falters in the presence of others. "Thank you." You make an effort to smile at him, which he politely and uncomfortably returns. "Could you give us a moment?" You request, returning your attention to your dad.

He nods and shakes Coryo's hand before bumping into you as he exits the room, pausing before leaning down to whisper to you.

Coriolanus watches, your eyes widening for just a moment while your dad speaks to you and then you nod, thanking him quietly before he leaves. You stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a second while you listen to his footsteps descend the stairs, and then hear the door to his study close. As soon as it does, you're quickly walking up to your friend and throwing your arms around his waist, your head leaning into his chest.

He freezes for a second before hugging you back. "Thank you, Coryo." You whisper. "I won't let you down."

"Are you okay?" He asks, resisting the urge to just rest his chin on the top of your head and pull you closer. It's been ages since he's been hugged like this, and though it's meant more as a comfort to you, it's consolatory to him as well.

You nod, snapping out of it and quickly pulling away, taking a respectful step back. "Yeah, yes. Sorry." You clear your throat, quickly readjusting your sweater.

"Don't be." He shakes his head quickly, brows still furrowed as he looks you over. He doesn't know what you came home to, but he has a strong theory as to what the cause of your tear-stained cheeks could be, and it certainly wasn't an empty fridge like his. 

You stare at each other for another moment before you look away. "Uh, so, you spoke to the Dean?"

"No, he despises me." He answers. "Dr. Gaul was more sympathetic to the cause."

"Dr. Gaul and 'sympathetic' have never been used in the same sentence before." You tease.

"Well, she likes us for some reason."

"Thank god." You chuckle, slightly shaking your head.

"But... seriously, are you okay?" He asks again, this time blatantly looking you over. While embarrassing, it does feel nice to see that someone cares, that someone noticed. The remnants of pity behind his eyes makes you almost ill.

"Fine." You nod in confirmation. "Would you like something to eat?" You offer, leveling the playing field.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie

fill out my form linked here to join my taglist!

[tofumiarchives]

┊RED LINER┊˚✧

┊ONE SHOT┊MICHAEL KAISER X GN!READER┊

words: 596

unrequested

additional/warnings: ooc(?), cringe, swearing, lots of bickering, Kaiser

erm I think I like Kaiser

I'll work on my blog soon trust (me when I lie)

Sometimes, you really want to throw Kaiser across the room.

“You’re doing it wrong,” his words made you want to mess up on purpose, just so you could hopefully aggravate and annoy the star striker in front of you. 

“Shut up, Kaiser. Stay still,” you murmur under your breath, focusing on the task at hand. You suggested doing the eyeliner shit he regularly wears, all because you were bored without anything to do. Kaiser's reaction? Be an uncooperative ass, even when you offered so graciously to do something for him.

Red ink smoothly flowed out of the eyeliner as you carefully filled in the line. The blond had his eyes closed, head tilted up by your hand while you sat on the surface of the sink's counter. Kaiser didn't know what possessed him to let you do this, but to be honest, he'd let you do whatever if it serves him— as he thinks. It's not an excuse, because that's just pathetic.

You finished the second wing, leaning back to see if it looked even and good enough. Kaiser didn't miss that chance to tilt his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror. And, of course, he had to point out the flaws. “It’s not even,” he points out, stating the not very obvious.

The way you were holding back the urge to smack him in the head should be awarded. “What do you mean? It is. You should get your eyes checked,” you retorted, watching him scrunch up his face and look at you like you just ruined his face. He seemed to always do that. You could almost say he resembled some grumpy cat with the way his expressions look.

“You get your eyes checked,” Kaiser rolled his eyes. “Mine are perfectly alright. Meanwhile, you seem to not notice the minor details. You're really shitty at this,” he complained. Suddenly, you get the urge to remove the translator device in your ear, just so you could stop having to understand his ranting. Maybe you should. Hopefully it irks him.

You gave him a look. It was something between ‘I-regret-doing-this-for-you’ and ‘stop-complaining-you-bastard’. There was a click when you capped the liner, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom, filling up the small glimpse of silence after he spoke. “You know, maybe I should've messed up your liner on purpose.”

“Wow,” he replied, taking the red eyeliner back from you. “What, are you that mad you're bad at this? And, to be honest, I can pull off even your shitty, uneven attempts at doing eyeliner,” there he goes again, always preening like a damn peacock. Shit always flaunts whenever he can get to do so. What makes it worse is that he's actually attractive. 

That's it. You take off the translator provided by Mikage corps, placing the jet black bud on the marble counter. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, picking up on what you just did. Ah, the peace of being able to ignore him. He was frowning. Cute. You should mess with him some more from now on.

“Arschloch,” Kaiser curses you out, while you're blissfully ignoring what he's saying. This is so fun. You can choose not to understand a single shit he's saying right now! 

You point a finger at your ear, not being able to hide the grin etching into your face. “I can't understand you,” you point out, getting an ounce of satisfaction when he rolled his eyes. 

You’re starting to think you should mess around with him even more.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[lozchi]

KNOCKDOWN

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Prologue: 1.7k words

The kindergarten playground was a battleground of tiny tempers and unfiltered emotions.

“THE GIRAFFE IS MINE! AHHHGHHHHH!”

 And no one exemplified this more than Ryomen Sukuna.

Even as a youngster, Sukuna was a formidable presence. He constantly found himself in trouble, getting into conflicts with peers and receiving harsh rebukes from teachers who were unable to tame his unruly nature.

"I apologize for hitting Tanaka's balls, I will do it again…"He trails off.

"Sukuna!"

"Alright! I won't! Tsk, adults."

In the sandbox one day, Sukuna noticed two boys your age standing near you, whose names he didn't care to remember. Their pushing and teasing was causing you to cower in fear from their cruel words. You hastily use your arm to wipe away your tears and snot, wishing they'd go away.

“I juz wan’ play here! I was here first! Lemme be!” You yell. 

“You're a girl! You can't tell us what to do!” Sukuna's usual urge for fights found a new purpose. 

“I'm not a bad boy if I'm helping someone, heh.” He thinks to himself. 

With a determined glare, Sukuna marched over, fists clenched. "Hey, you dummies!" he yelled, his voice carrying an authority that belied his age. 

The bullies turned, sneers plastered on their faces. "What's it to you, poopy head?" one of them taunted. 

Before the boy could react, Sukuna's fist collided with his nose causing a horrifying sound. The boy fell back, holding his face while blood streamed down. Sukuna dodged the swing from the other bully with quick reflexes. He responded by delivering a quick punch to the bully's abdomen, leaving him breathless. The bully bent over in half, struggling to breathe before falling to the ground.

 “Mommy! Mommy! Help me!” The boys cried in unison.

 "Had enough?" Sukuna spat, standing protectively in front of you as the bullies scrambled away in tears. 

You looked up at your savior with wide, grateful eyes, wiping your tears away.  Boy, was he in so much trouble that day. 

“Ff-thank you, ‘K-Kuna.” You sobbed. 

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just don't cry about it." 

From that moment on, you were drawn to Sukuna like a magnet. At first, he found your constant presence irritating. You would trail behind him, mimicking his every step. If he ran, you ran; if he stopped, you stopped. When he sat on the swings, you’d sit beside him, your small legs dangling in the air. During snack time, you’d offer him your favorite treats, hoping to win his approval. Sukuna often rolled his eyes at your antics. 

"Why are you always following me?" he grumbled one day as you trailed behind him.

"Because you’re my hero," you replied with a bright smile, holding out a piece of candy.

"Want some?"Sukuna's scowl softened just a fraction as he took the candy. 

"Fine, but stop being so annoying."

 He found himself looking forward to the treats you brought and the way you cheered for him after his fights.

You would defend him to the other kids, proclaiming proudly;

 "Sukuna's the strongest! No one can beat him!" 

Even when he found your declarations embarrassing, a part of him enjoyed the attention. Slowly, your  loyalty began to chip away at his tough exterior. Without realizing it, Sukuna began to appreciate having you around. 

The dynamic between you and Sukuna only deepened as you both entered high school. Sukuna’s reputation as a fierce fighter had followed him, and it wasn't long before other delinquent students sought to challenge him, either to prove themselves or settle old scores. You often found yourself waiting near the school gates or in the secluded corners where these fights typically occurred. 

The aftermath was always the same: Sukuna standing victorious, his opponents nursing bruises and pride. You would rush to his side, your bag already prepared with a first aid kit.

"Hold still," you would command softly, dabbing at a cut on his cheek with antiseptic.

"I don't need your help," Sukuna would grumble, though he never pulled away.

"Stop being stubborn," you’d reply, focusing on cleaning his wounds. "If you keep this up, you’re going to have more scars than I can count."

Sometimes, it would be other delinquent students wanting to mess with each other, using Sukuna as their proving ground. But no matter how many tried, Sukuna remained undefeated. His skill and ferocity in battle were unmatched, and you were always there to patch him up afterward.

One evening, after a particularly brutal fight, you were carefully bandaging Sukuna’s knuckles. 

"You really should find a less violent hobby," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, wincing slightly as you tightened the bandage.

"And what would that be? Knitting? Horseback riding? Ooh, what about pottery?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "I just worry about you, that's all."

He looked at you, a rare softness in his eyes. "I know. Thanks.”

Once you turned eighteen, the news hit you like a freight train: Sukuna had to leave for another country. The weight of his departure was heavy, pressing down on your chest as you tried to process it. His last day arrived all too quickly, and you found yourselves standing in the empty school courtyard, the familiar surroundings now filled with a profound sense of finality.

"I can't believe you're leaving," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "I'll miss you so much."

Sukuna's usual bravado was absent, replaced by a quiet resignation. He met your eyes, his own filled with a sadness. 

"I don't really have a choice," he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything," you replied instantly, desperate to hold onto any part of him.

"Stay safe for me, got it?" His voice was firm, but you could hear the underlying plea.

"I will," you promised, your throat tightening as you fought back tears. "You too, Sukuna. Stay safe."

He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. "I mean it. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," you assured him, though you wished you could say more, do more to make him stay.

As he turned to leave, you felt an ache in your heart, a deep, gnawing sense of loss.

 "Sukuna," you called out, your voice breaking slightly. "I'll miss you."

He paused, his back still turned to you. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but all he could manage was a low hum of acknowledgment. "Protect yourself for me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You watched him walk away, each step taking him further from you and deeper into an unknown future. As he disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He wished he had said it back, wished he had found the courage to tell you how much you meant to him. But for now, all he could do was carry the hope that one day, he would have the chance to make things right.

No way of contacting him, Sukuna gradually became a distant memory. The sharp, vivid images of your childhood together blurred as you got busier with your studies. The demands of school, extracurricular activities, and the push towards your future left little room for reminiscing. Each passing day added another layer of distance between you and the boy who had once been your closest friend.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was on a different path. He threw himself into intense training, honing his skills with a singular focus. His natural talent and relentless drive quickly propelled him to the top of the mixed martial arts world. As you buried yourself in textbooks and exams, Sukuna was making headlines, becoming a prodigal MMA fighter known for his unmatched ferocity and technique.

Years slipped by, and the memories of Sukuna became like old photographs, faded and tucked away in the back of your mind. Occasionally, something would trigger a fleeting recollection—a particular song, the scent of antiseptic from your first aid kit, or the distant sound of a playground. But these moments were rare and quickly overshadowed by the pressing concerns of the present.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna’s name began to rise in the sports world. Articles, interviews, and televised matches showcased his prowess, but in your bubble of academic pursuits, his fame went unnoticed. You had yet to discover the remarkable journey Sukuna had undertaken -- the one that had transformed him from the fierce protector of your childhood to a celebrated MMA prodigy.

Despite the cashflow and all the attention that came with his success, Sukuna felt a deep, gnawing emptiness. The trophies, accolades, and the roaring crowds failed to fill the void left by your absence. He would often find himself staring out at the arena from behind the scenes, lost in thought. 

Sukuna imagined what it would be like to see you in the crowd. He could almost hear your voice cheering for him, a familiar sound that had been a constant during his childhood fights. He pictured you there, standing amidst a sea of faces, your eyes bright with pride as you shouted his name. 

"YES! THAT'S SUKUNA! LET'S GO!" he would hear you say in his mind’s eye, your voice as clear and encouraging as it had been all those years ago.

He hoped that one day, you would see how far he had come, that you would recognize the man he had become and the battles he had fought. He longed for the moment when he could finally show you the success he had achieved and hear you say,

"I’m proud of you, Sukuna.”

But for now, those thoughts remained unspoken wishes he carried with him as he fought in the ring. Every success, every achievement was colored with the anticipation that one day you would be present to observe it, to witness his growth, and to take part in celebrating his achievements.

One day, though, the paths of your separate lives would cross again, and the faded memories would be brought back into sharp focus. But for now, you remained unaware,  while Sukuna continued to conquer arenas far away, all the while imagining your cheers in his heart.

Taglist:

just put it under this post or any of the chapters I'll release. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

[soulaires]

aaron warner family headcanons

The Warner Family.

pairings: dad!aaron warner x mom!reader

summary: get to know more about the warner family!

warnings: fluff, domestic, ooc, domestic shenanigans, protective aaron warner …

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

Aaron found out about it when he heard some crying in the bathroom at the middle of the night, noticing your lack of presence beside him, he got worried and walk towards the bathroom.

There, he saw you, in front of a mirror having a breakdown.

He approached you and asked whats wrong.

“love?” he said softly, as he hugged you from behind and caressed your hair, “My love, whats wrong?” he asked you worriedly.

“aaron..” you trailed off as you continue to sob. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead , pulling away as he make you look at him, “what is it, angel? You can tell me.” he urged you.

“I’m pregnant.” you blurt out.

With the lack of reply, you panicked.

“I missed my period recently and I feel kinda shit lately so me juliette and nazeera bought an pregnancy test earlier and I tested all 7 of them and they are all positive, I don’t—”

As you were rambling, he quickly hugged you tightly and lifting you up to the ground as he span you around. You laugh softly at this gesture as he peppered kisses to your face and hair while he whispered sweet nothings.

“Its okay. We will be okay. Don’t worry. We got this, yeah? I love you. Thank you. Thank you, I love you so much, My love.”

at the first stage he got nervous about being a dad and have some self doubt but later got over it as he saw you patying your belly despite it still not visible.

he got more protective over you and never ever let you do things.

you guys told your friends by a guess the word game. They all cried.

He bought a book about being a dad and take notes on pregnancy books to help you out.

Baby proofs the every part of the house immediately.

He went to every appointment with you

He never ever made you feel guilty for your cravings.

Oh you want a food from a store hours away? Just wait.

A hellspawn food combination that you want? He will eat it with you.

Massage? Done.

A food from a different country? He ordered his men to get it ASAP.

Want some sweets especially made by your husband even though you have never tasted his baking? He learned how to bake immediately!

You guys did an gender reveal in the most fun way.

You did it as both kenji and juliette worn a baby costume with 'boy' written in the blue bib for juliette while 'girl' in a pink bib for kenji

They both FIGHT to determine who wins to know the gender

They even go overboard as they jumped into the swimming pool racing each other to the finish line

Kenji won.

So, its a girl!

You guys decorated her room immediately

You did ALOOOTTTT of shopping!!!!!

Your husband just spoils you rotten as you keep buying cute toys, plushies, and pretty cute clothes!!!

“my love, don't you think its a bit too much?” “I am sure the little princess do not need that much clothes, honey.”

he gave up as soon as he saw some cute baby clothes + a matching one.

When you guys did a baby shower its so emotional like omg you guys are gonna be parents!

You and Aaron planted a tree so it grows with baby dior!

teenager!dior safe place is the tree, she goes there to lay down, read and to relax when stresses!

Your friends wrote letters for dior to read when she reached the age 7, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21 and 22!

You and aaron made her a gmail account as you guys constantly wrote her some letters and random things there for her to read in the future

When you went into the labor he desperately wished to take away your pain and was crying with you. He comforted you as he cares your hair and gives you kisses.

“shh, its okay, baby. Im here. Im not going anywhere. ”

“you got this, my love. You are doing so well.”

“Aaron! I can't do this—”

“yes, yes you can, darling.”

He really can't bare to see you in so much pain even though he had seen so much worse

He was very gentle and was crying when he held your baby girl in his hands. His princess, his girls, his universe.

After the labour, you were barely allowed to do things in the house, he only let you rest while he take cares with everything.

You guys had an 3 months lockdown, not allowing anyone to visit the baby

Always keeping an eye for baby monitors

You and him do an rock, paper scissors when it comes to changing baby Dior diapers (he lets you win, sometimes.)

Dior have your eyes so he is a victim to those puppy dog eyes. He can't say no to you, what more to his princess especially with your eyes?

Learns to do her hair!!

Dior first words is not 'momma' or 'dada' it was Kenny. Kenny. You and aaron felt betrayed.

Despite with the nickname, kenji teared up and always paraded the moment (to your husband dismay) he grows to adore the nickname when she keep calling him that

He sometimes forget that he played dress up with baby di so sometimes he go to work with tiara, ribbons, those princess accessories on him.

“Refrain from laughing, there is nothing funny about this matter.” “uh...theres something on you, sir.” “oh.”

Sometimes they were to scared to point it out

Kenji, nazeera and juliette made fun of him not until they were a victim of the dress up

At one point, kenji kidnapped baby dior and was later banned from seeing her for 2 months (barely a month in dior throwed a tantrum wanting to see her uncle kenny)

Baby dior played with your make up when she misses you! She wanna look like you because she misses you so much

Dior is an nature girlie! Aaron believes his angel is a reincarnated of persephone/artemis

Baby dior wears her pants backwards. She believes that “tails” should be at the back. You and Aaron gave up on the fight.

You guys had an motto that if its not hurting anyone or themselves, don't fight it. Let them.

One time you guys thought she was playing phone call but turns out she was in an hour real call with james.

Seashells hunting !!!!!

Everytime you guys went to a beach aaron always buy a big beautiful seashell then hides it in the sand for her to find!!! And her reactions always makes you and him melt!!

he also buries some treasure chests

He made an contract of no boyfriend until shes 30 and made baby dior sign with her prints with paints. He framed it.

You scold him for that and he just shrugs lol

teenage!dior have you in her closefriend and private insta!!

she collects shells and glue them to a cardboard and gifts it to you!

She wants a sibling so one day she just go “I want a baby sister or brother 🥺”

Keeps wishing on a well for it

Aaron is 100% in he just goes “Princess, ask mommy :)” “me too, baby. Let’s just ask momma for it, hm?”

Well, let’s just say she always get what she wants…

authors note: I had fun doing this Omg I wanna make it a series, do you guys want it? Please let me know!!! Feedbacks and reactions are very much appreciated!!!

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

If you want to be added to my A.W tag list plz let me know in my inbox ! 💌

[bluecanvasshoe]

platonic!Arthur Morgan & teen!fem!reader

reader being female is only mentioned, like, once at the very start, rest of the story has virtually nothing to do w it

based around the end of the game!!

Arthur notices you’re upset after some sulking around, so he takes you fishing.

warnings: slight rdr2 spoilers, a little smidgen of misogyny, maybe ooc? idk, no beta reader we die like MEN 🔥, little bit of angst, comfort, NO ROMANCE‼️‼️‼️, …….lazy ending, I HAVE WRITERS BLOCK OKAY

word count: 1.5k

Part 2 !!!!! (link is fixed!)

——————

For the past couple months, it’s felt as if nothing you have done has ever gone right.

When carrying hay-bales to the horses, your arms grew tired. Micah laughed as you dropped the feed and breathed heavily. A few months back, Hosea reminded you that, as a child, you weren’t expected to do any of the more challenging work. However, the urge to prove yourself triumphed over his lectures.

Then Ms. Grimshaw approached you in camp, reprimanding you for your insistence on doing the more “manly” tasks. As a girl of the camp who was yet to be an adult, you, unfortunately, were not saved from her pressing you about your future in the gang.

Afterwards, while practising your handiwork with a needle, you pierced your index finger. It drew blood, so Strauss gave you a bandage and a disapproving look.

The gang slowly dwindled in numbers, leaving your already fragile state of mind in a bit of a crisis. Small things piled on small things that piled on big things, and you soon found yourself dreading chores, which turned into dreading every day that followed. The feeling of thinking you were actively disappointing every living being ever drowned out any sense of reasoning.

On a clear morning, you woke up groggy. All seemed well until you were punched in the face with the realisation that you had to actually get up.

Instead of wasting the early morning away, wallowing in the sadness of your flimsy canvas tent, you sat at the dying campfire. Your heart felt heavy in your chest, and your mouth subconsciously pulled down into a frown.

Arthur, ever the early bird, awoke not long after you and sat down on the next log over. His worn and muddied boots crunched on the gravelly terrain, interrupting the chirping of birds. The sun hadn’t yet risen, shrouding everything in a dusky glow.

“You uh… sleep well, kid?” said Arthur, holding onto a steaming cup of coffee.

“Yeah,” you replied simply, staring at the fire. Strauss told you not to drink coffee; he said it was “bad for a child’s development.”.

Arthur sighed, turning his head over as he propped his upper body up, an arm supporting himself by pressing on his knee. “You’ve been acting’ strange,” he commented, “we’ve all noticed. Is somethin’ botherin’ you?”

Your voice caught up in your throat, the words that formed in your head fighting to escape and pathetically losing. “No…just tired.”

The man next to you coughed lightly, clearing his throat. “You…uh, you wanna go fishin’? I oughta' bring some food back to Pearson.”

Fishing? Now there’s something you haven't done in a while. Maybe you could get out of the camp.

“Okay,” you fidgeted with the fabric of your sleep bottoms, your eyes darting from Arthur and back to the fire. It seemed Arthur hadn’t expected you to agree, as he hesitated to find a response.

“Alright, then. Be ready in...about half an hour.”

As promised, you were dressed a quarter after six; at least that’s what your pocket watch you pickpocketed forever ago said. Hopping up onto the pony you used on rare outings, you waited for Arthur to saddle up too.

“You got all your stuff?” He asked, storing away his fishing rod and hoisting himself up, grabbing hold of his horse’s reins.

You look at your saddle bag one last time before turning to Arthur, nodding. “Yeah. ‘Been a while since I've gone fishin’, though.”

“Don’t worry about that; I'll give you a refresher.” Arthur shifted his weight before clicking twice, lightly jabbing his spurs into the side of his mount.

Following his movements, — except spur-less, as you don’t do nearly as much riding as the other men in the gang — you began to move, your horse huffing gently.

You caught up to him thanks to his slow trot, swatting away a couple mosquitoes in the process. “Where’re we goin’?” you asked, your voice raised.

“Well, you ain’t too familiar with his area,” he quickly wiped his nose with his free hand, sniffling. “But it ain’t far. There’s a nice little spot on a lake nearby. You oughta' get a couple bites.”

“Uh-huh,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. Arthur was holding onto his horse’s reins with one hand. You had trouble steering your horse with two.

Arthur slowed once he approached a patch of gravelly sand, getting off his horse with you following. He took out his fishing equipment and walked over to the shore.

“Here,” Arthur reached into his brown satchel, pulling out a block of cheese wrapped in brown parchment paper. “Use some a’ this.” Reaching over, you broke off a small chunk and murmured a hushed ‘thank you’ in return.

“‘M guessin’ you remember what bait is and how to use it, right?” he remarked, preparing his rod. “I think I got it,” you muttered, fumbling with the fishing pole but eventually hooking the cheese onto the sharp point.

“Careful there. Don’t wanna poke your finger.” Arthur joked snarkily, waiting for you to get into a similar position to his, his fishing rod held in front of his body. The bandaged finger he was referring to was sliding the small bit of bait onto the hook clumsily. “Shut up,” you grunted, getting a good grip on the pole and holding it out in front of yourself. The water moved lazily, quietly washing up and down on the sand. The calm surface showed the fish that swam underneath. Minnows dashed around quickly, the small groups of fish moving together.

Crickets still chirped in the distance as birds were beginning to sing, too. The air smelled fresh and felt dewy, a light breeze turning trees into calming windchimes.

“You wanna hold it like this,” he said, tapping his index finger against the line. You attempted the same hold that he had, but with the limited information given, you didn’t immediately get the hang of it.

“No, like- like this, with your index on the line. Should be pressin’ against the rod.” Arthur peered over your shoulder as you adjusted your fingers, pressing the thin string against the wood of the rod. Arthur nodded. “Yeah, that’s good. Now pull back the bail.”

Now, you hadn’t a clue what the bail was, but that hardly mattered. Matching Arthur’s movements, you pulled a semi-circle piece of metal back and over the line spool.

“Alright, now be careful here; don’t wanna take out an eye. Draw back your rod over your shoulder, but not too far. The farther you draw, the longer the cast,” he advised, drawing the pole over his shoulder. You mimicked him.

“Now, you throw it over your shoulder and straight forward,” he instructed, watching your movements. The bait landed about 3 metres away from the shoreline, splashing pathetically before bobbing up and down.

“Just like that. Now, you pull back the bail and wait.”

Silence filled the space between you two—a suffocating, invisible force.

Deer galloped across the lake and within the thick brush. One stopped, a buck, and stared at the two fishermen across from it. His ears twitched before he joined the others.

Loons sang, their eerily beautiful calls travelling across the calm waters. Frogs croaked in the distance, and clouds languidly drifted overhead.

“Look, I… I haven’t a clue what you’re feelin’. But just know that you ain’t alone. We’ve all been stressed. I can’t imagine what you must be feelin’.” said Arthur, turning briefly to face you.

The sun peeked over the distant treeline, slowly casting a calming light over everything in the vicinity.

“I feel like I can’t never do anythin’ right.” You croaked, voice catching in your throat and a painful ache creeping up to your jaw.

“Aw, kid… whad’ya mean?" Arthur had never been great at comfort. He could do it, of course, though he certainly had his favourites when it came to his affections.

You stared off into the lake, your reflection looking right back. “Everythin’ I do feels like a failure. There ain’t a single thing I’ve been able to do right recently.”

Arthur sighed, reeling his line back in and casting it again.

“That ain’t true. You’re a kid. You’re learning. You aren’t… supposed to be great at everythin’, and nothin’ you do is supposed to be right; it’s just supposed to teach you something. This’ll go away; trust me.” He chose his words carefully, coughing to the side before continuing. “Now I know this probably ain’t what you wanted to hear. Feelin’ sad feels... nice sometimes. But it’s true. Basically everyone in this gang is an adult, ‘cept for Jack, so don’t go comparin’ yourself to anyone, you hear? We’re all goin’ through hard times; none of this is your fault, and you ain’t a failure for anythin’.”

The sun steadily rose, framed perfectly by the view in front of you. Your horses huffed occasionally as geese flew above, honking distantly.

He was right; you didn’t want to hear this. You don’t know what you want to hear. Maybe something about how awful you are, or maybe something about how great and amazing you are. You felt conflicted, confused, and even a smidge defensive.

“But I-” “but nothin’, kid. Do with that what you will, but just... think about it. Maybe see things from a different perspective.” He rasped, clearing his throat. “Or don’t; it’s your choice. But just give it some thought.”

Silence settled between you two again, leaving your conflicting feelings to dissipate.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, watching as your bait bobbed on the water’s surface. The chill of the north was soothed by the warmth of the sun, and everything, in that moment, felt okay.

—

Part 2

[rainybubbles]

Unrequited love and 141

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

Suggestive theme for Soap's one /!/

SIMON : you were his second choice.

You gazed into his eyes, and within their depths, the truth unfurled. His lips remained sealed, yet their silence spoke volumes, delivering a verdict you dreaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't like you that way," he said, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

-Such has been the pattern of your existence.

-You were never anyone's first pick—neither for your family, nor your friends, nor your school.

- You were always the second choice. And for a brief moment, you thought maybe things were different with Simon.

-Maybe his kindness towards you meant something more, maybe his tough exterior was just a front.

-But no, it wasn't like that at all. You felt foolish, like you were living in a dream.

-"Let's just forget about this, it was dumb," you whispered, trying to brush it off.

-"Yeah," he agreed quickly. Too quickly. And you knew why. He never saw you in that way.

-"You'll find someone better," he said, trying to be comforting.

-You fought the urge to scream, to rail against the clichéd reassurance.

-"Less emo, maybe?" you joked, but it didn't ease the pain.

-He chuckled, a sound you used to love, but now it only reminded you of what you couldn't have.

-"You'll find someone," he repeated, but you knew it wasn't true. All your crushes ended the same way, and Simon was your last hope.

-"I should go home. You have stuff to do, right?" you said, feeling the awkwardness between you both.

-"Yeah," he confirmed, not asking you to stay like he usually did. You knew you messed up.

-You forced a smile, hiding the tears, and left.

-Walking back to your apartment, the rain mixed with your tears, and it all felt like one big mess. You wanted to forget about Simon, but at the same time, you wanted more of him. It was torture.

-Back at your place, you picked up your phone and saw a message from Johnny. Simon has been seeing someone. It hit you hard.

-"When?" you replied quickly.

-"This week. He wasn't sure, but it's been going on for months," came the response.

-And then you realized. 

-Those moments you shared with Simon—they weren't meaningless. 

-They weren’t figments of your imagination.

-Him without his mask, the flirt jokes, the stay-in at his flat…

- They were moments stolen in the absence of his true desire, placeholders for another. 

-You were nothing more than a substitute, a convenient distraction until his heart's desire was available. 

-You were just a stand-in until his real crush was available. 

-You were a second choice.

-"What a coward," you muttered to yourself, feeling angry and hurt.

__________________________________________

SOAP : hookup who wishes more

His lips brushed against your neck, the sizzle of breakfast in the pan, and you allowed yourself to drift into reverie.

A life entwined with his seemed within reach.

Yet, the harsh reality pierced through when he reached for his phone to answer another call from another one night-stand.

In his bed, you were just another person, another quick fuck, maybe the one he was most comfortable with, like an old pair of socks.

But not the only one. Just someone he could rely on when he needed.

It was silly to have feelings for him.

But sometimes, when he stayed in the morning, asking about your family or giving you birthday gifts, you couldn't help but hope.

Maybe he was trying to tell you something. Until he left again. Until he talked about others. Until he was with someone else.

You lived close to his place, always there when he wanted you. Even though you knew your place, you couldn't bring yourself to cut him off, to tell him to stop.

Your heart craved his attention, even if it was only for a moment.

"Could ye pass me the salt, Nox?" he asked casually.

That wasn't your name, nor a moniker he bestowed upon you. Your body tensed, gripped by a sudden realization. He had mistaken you for one of his fuck buddies.

The agony engulfed you, clouding your thoughts.

"It's not my name," you whispered, barely audible.

"Sorry, Ah wasn't payin’ attention," he apologized, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Focused. The word echoed in your mind as you struggled to find your voice. "Leave," you whispered.

"Whit?" he asked, confused.

"I said, leave."

“Wait, if somethin’ happened, I can help-”

“That's the problem, John. You can't help. You can’t have it both ways. You can't treat me like your lover one moment, only to discard me for someone else the next. You can't oscillate between warmth and coldness. I'm tired of being strung along by your attachment issues. I know your family, John. I've met them all. Yet you introduced me as a friend. After each deployment, you sought solace in my arms, whispering promises you never intended to keep. I've had enough."

"I can change, just give me a chance—" he pleaded.

"No," you said firmly. "You want fun, I want commitment.I won't demand something you're incapable of giving. But I refuse to be ensnared in this farce any longer. Leave my home, and never return”

"It's a misunderstanding, please, just listen—" he begged.

"You called me by the wrong name," you said, your voice breaking. "While I made breakfast, you were texting someone else. You even made plans with them while we were supposed to watch a movie together. It's clear to me now."

John left, leaving behind a mess of emotions. You cried, but you also felt a sense of relief. Next time, you promised yourself, you would ask for honesty from the start, before getting caught up in another tangled web of confusion.

__________________________

GAZ : waiting for someone who doesn’t wait for you.

You stood there, shivering in the biting cold, lips pallid, hands tingling crimson from the chill, yet refusing to let a single tear betray your anguish.

As each shop shuttered its windows, the empty streets echoed with the hollow sound of your hopes crumbling, brick by brick.

You clung to the belief that Gaz would never abandon you, not after everything. So you lingered, a lone figure in the twilight, yearning for his arrival.

But when he finally materialized, it was a dagger to your heart. His arms wrapped around another, their laughter slicing through the silence like shards of glass.

Together they sauntered into the very restaurant where he had promised to take you, where they shared a meal that should have been yours.

Fingers trembling, you reached for your phone, desperate to bridge the chasm between you and him.

Yet he flicked his device off with callous disregard, leaving you to drown in a sea of unanswered questions.

Why? Why would he toy with your emotions like this, dangling the prospect of reconciliation before your weary eyes only to snatch it away?

He had been the one to reach out, resurrecting memories of a bygone era when you were each other's world in high school, planting seeds of hope for a future together.

And foolishly, you had clung to those promises, waiting with bated breath for his return, even as the minutes stretched into hours.

You had always been waiting for him.

You had always been the one chasing after Gaz, in school, in matters of the heart, in the delicate dance of friendship.

But now, as you trudged towards the desolate bus station, the bitter irony of it all weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

The clock struck midnight, and a message flashed across your screen, belated apologies dripping with insincerity from him.

 In that moment, the truth became painfully clear: you had always made time for him, carving out precious moments in your hectic existence, while he couldn't spare a single second to offer a genuine excuse, a shred of explanation.

And so, as the bus rumbled towards an uncertain destination, you vowed to reclaim the pieces of yourself that you had willingly sacrificed at the altar of his indifference.

 For in the end, you realized, the only person worth waiting for was the one who would never keep you waiting in the first place.

__________________________

Price : he loved you. You love him.

You watch as his fiancée weeps, tears staining your own cheeks. It's not the same for you. It's not joy, it's sorrow.

Yet, despite the ache in your heart, your eyes betray you as they linger on how handsome John looks in his pristine white suit. Your heart, it seems, has impeccable taste.

You hear him uttering his vows, the crowd erupting in cheers.

But your mind is fixated solely on the fading of his smile. You know it's just your own jealousy speaking, suggesting that perhaps he harbors a secret desire to halt this union.

You despise it, yet you can't silence the relentless overthinking that observes how he subtly recoils when their hands touch, how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, like a fleeting shadow of itself.

But now is the time for speeches, or forever hold your peace, isn't it?

And your decision has been made, etched into the stars since the day he shared his dreams of them, seeking your approval.

The festivities commence, and you remain composed, aloof, deliberately distant from him, from them. You're afraid—afraid of divulging everything, afraid of shattering it all.

"You've been keeping to yourself," he remarks.

"Is that an inquiry, Captain?" you retort, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words.

"You're not in the military, don't call me that, dear."

You manage a wry smile.

"I don't fare well in crowds," you confess.

"I know," he acknowledges softly. "I just wanted a moment to talk."

"About what?" you inquire cautiously.

"You seem distant, from everyone," he observes.

"I... I just need time to recuperate from something, nothing significant," you deflect.

"Is it... physical?" he probes.

"No," you reply curtly.

"Emotional?"

"John."

"I just want to understand," he persists.

"Ignorance is bliss," you murmur, a trace of bitterness tainting your words.

"Yes, but not when it comes to you," he counters.

"John, please don't push," you plead.

"I will.You can't just shut me out like this," he insists, his brows furrowing in exasperation.

"Watch me," you retort, your jaw set stubbornly.

"Why are you like this?" he demands, his voice rising slightly with pent-up frustration.

"Like what?" you counter, your own patience wearing thin.

"Closed off. Distant. It's like you've built a wall between us," he argues, his words laced with hurt.

"Maybe I have," you admit, your voice softening just a fraction.

"Why?" he implores, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Irritation flares within you, fatigue settling in. You've had your fill of this celebration, of the clamor, of the happiness that seems so out of reach.

And then, it slips out.

"I love you. Satisfied now?" you snap.

His expression morphs, a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You can't just drop that bombshell on me," he whispers, his voice tinged with betrayal.

"I warned you, John. Don't try to shift the blame onto me," you retort, your tone strained.

"Why... Why didn't you say anything before?" he implores, his frustration evident.

"Because you paraded around with people who bore no resemblance to me? Because our friendship means everything to me, and I couldn't risk it," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion.

His anger simmers beneath the surface.

"Listen, I'm sorry. Let's forget this, you have your fiancée and—"

"I loved you too," he interjects, his admission cutting through the air like a knife.

"What?" you gasp, stunned.

"Before my fiancée, I... I was utterly in love with you. I... damn it, we could have... Why didn't you say anything?" he laments, his voice thick with regret.

"John, no," you murmur, your heart breaking all over again.

"I love her now," he adds hastily, as if trying to extinguish the flicker of hope that ignited within you.

"You can't drop this bombshell now. It's cruel," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"I know," he admits, his gaze dropping in shame.

"You're a coward. You've moved on, and now you leave me with this 'what if,'" you accuse, the words bitter on your tongue.

"It'll fade," he offers weakly.

-"Fuck you, John," you hiss, the finality of your words hanging heavy in the air.

-You never see him again after the wedding. You couldn't bear to, not to his fiancée, not to him, not to yourself. Perhaps, you muse bitterly, ignorance truly is bliss.

if you want more : my masterlist

[poetryandfluffycats]

OKAY. since reqs are open uhm would you write madara cucking kuro plz...

like literally fucking fem!reader getting fucked, kuro's clothed boner pressed to her cheek while he kinda js sits back in shock and doesn't know what to do while mama is fucking her rrroughhhh and is like "you like my cock that much? kuros right there you'll make him angry" and shit. idk DOES THIS MAKE SENSE but yeah 🫶🏻

-🍓anon

A/N: I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE PLOT OMG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope it's too ur liking I may have gone off the rails a little bit....

Pairing: Kuro Kiryu x fem!reader x Madara Mikejima

Content: Madaras into you, everyone and their dog knows that. Only problem is, you have a boyfriend.

Warnings: NSFW, dub-con, slut-shaming, oral sex(f receiving), cuckolding, dry humping, sexual harassment(?), mentions of cheating, established relationship with kuro, ooc madara(?), they're both ooc tbh💀, porn with plot

Words: 2.1k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Have Him Watch?~

It was no secret that Madara had a thing for you. He had made his advances-both romantic and sexual alike-very obvious to you and everyone else, not even hesitating to flirt with you right in front of your own boyfriend, Kuro.

Kuro wasn't the type to let himself fall into petty jealousy, he knew you loved him and that nothing would never change that. Therefore, he hardly batted an eye whenever Madara made another stuipd comment about your body, or when his hands would linger for just a bit too long. It was better to simply ignore him and wait for Madara to get the hint. Kuro knew he was strong, but to pick a fight with Madara? Death wish.

So, he didn't aggravate him in any way, letting the bigger man do this thing until he realised he had no chance with you. Which is why he was confused when Madara cornered him in the gym one day, his teeth gleaming in his signature smirk.

"Kuro! My friend, my pal! Got a minute?" He beamed, slinging his arm around Kuros shoulders and pulling him in close, squeezing so hard you'd think he was trying to suffocate him.

"Uh, I'm a bit busy right now" Kuro pushed him off, dusting himself off and returning his attention to the weights he had been lifting. "Maybe later"

Madara smile didn't waver, if anything it only grew in size. Clearly, he had no interest in leaving anytime soon, not even when Kuro desperately wanted him too. Whatever Madara wanted from him, he didn't have the time for it. Not now, hopefully not ever.

"Ah, cmon! It'll only take a second!" He chirped, plopping down on the bench beside Kuro, crossing his legs and watching as the redhead started his reps. "Hey, working hard or hardly working, am I right? Hahaha~"

"Out with it, Mikejima" Kuro grunted, resisting the urge to smash his weights straight in the mans face. All he wanted was a peaceful workout, was that too much to ask for?

Madara laughed, waving his hand dismissively as if to clear the tension. "Always so blunt, I've always liked that about you y'know!" He grinned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you and (name), huh? How serious have you gotten with her? Is it marriage?"

Now he was just starting to piss him off. How was this any of his business? Sure, you and Madara were friends, but where did he get off asking for details about your relationship?

"She's my girl, yeah" Kuro answered, praying that his short replies would deter him from the conversation. If that was even possible.

"Right, right. And just hypothetically, if she were to cheat on you, would you be mad?"

Kuro tighten his grip on the weights, his knuckles turning white at the strain. "What are you getting at? You trying to start something?" He said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare in the brunettes direction.

Madara chuckled, putting one hand up in defence and using the other to playfully slap Kuro on the shoulder-a gesture that he did not appreciate, might I add. "Woah! Easy, I don't wanna fight ya! I'm just curious. Hey, maybe you'd let her cheat on you, I don't know what you're into!"

Kuro dropped the weights, the metal making a loud 'clunk' sound as they hit the floor, causing the other members of the gym to look over and stare at the two. Not that he gave a damn, oh no. Not when this clown was making a scene. How dare he suggest you would have an affair? Was he out of his mind?

"What's wrong with you? Of course I'd be mad, what makes you think I'd be cool with that? Get lost man" He spat, shoving him aside as he rose to his feet. The blood rushing through his veins felt as if it was burning as he sped away, not wanting to spend another second with such a fool.

What even was that? Kuro had gotten used to Madaras teasing and loud personality. Hell, he'd even grown to enjoy it to an extent. But this was just insulting. Why was he even saying those things? Did he know something Kuro didn't? Had you....

No, that was silly. You would never be unfaithful, that just wasn't you at all. Yet here he was, images flooding his mind of you tangled in Madaras arms, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and cum as you screamed his name. It was disgusting.

But so, so hot.

Shit.

/-----

You and Madara were friends. It was normal for friends to hang out alone in each other's bedrooms, even if they were the opposite gender, right?

Yeah, of course it was fine! Who were you kidding, it was perfectly acceptable.

You two were good friends, the best of friends! So it was normal for him to hug you, to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and pull you closer. He was a touchy person, after all. It was totally okay for him to nuzzle into your neck and inhale the smell of your perfume, to pepper kisses all over your jawline, to grind his erection against your ass-

Wait a minute.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" You yelped, squirming around in his grasp in a feeble attempt to escape his hold. It didn't matter how close you were, there was no way you'd be comfortable with this!

"What's wrong?" He cooed, your wiggling only seeming to excite him further as he continued his humping. "Friends cuddle all the time! Or are we not friends anymore?"

"This isn't cuddling! This is-ah! This is, oh fuck! This is sexual harassment, you perverted fuck!" You cursed yourself for allowing your voice to crack, letting those dreaded moans spill out like you were some whore who enjoyed this. Which, of course, you didn't! You didn't like it, right? Dammit!

"Sexual harassment, huh? If that's what floats your boat" Madara chuckled, pushing his hands past the hem of your skirt, groping the soft flesh of your thighs.

You squirmed around, hitting at his chest and clawing at his arms. It was no use, damn him and his muscles! In this position all you could do was stand there and take it, because in all honesty, you knew that no amount of protesting would get him to stop. Even of you did get away, it wouldn't be for long, Madara was as stubborn as ever and you knew for a fact that he wasn't afraid to use force to get his way.

You just didn't realize that part of him would ever show itself to you.

"Kuro. Kuro will be home soon, and he'll-ah! He'll kick your ass!" You threatened, snapping your head around to glare at the man behind you. Using Kuro as a form of defence probably wasn't the best idea, but it was your last resort. Begging and trying to fight back certainly didn't work against Madara.

He just laughed. "Maybe we can have him watch"

"What do you-"

A sudden knock at the door cut you off, the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend coming from behind it. "Uh, (name)? Do you have someone over? Why's the door shut? Can I come in?"

Oh fuck. No!

It suddenly dawned on you just how horrible this would look to Kuro, you pinned against another man with his hands up your skirt? Anyone would think you were a cheating whore! No matter how much you tried to explain the situation, it would still look the same. You had dug your own grave by even letting Madara come over!

Madara pressed his lips to your earlobe, nipping on the soft flesh and whispering lowly, "Do you want me to stop?"

Yes! No! Maybe?

God, why did it have to feel so fucking good?

"Babe? I'm coming in"

"Wait-ah-no! Don't-"

Too late.

The door swung open, the face of your wide-eyed and shocked boyfriend sending a wave of guilt down your spine. He looked at you, then Madara, then you again, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, only surprised mumbles and stutters.

You honestly couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, confused, aroused, maybe a mix of all three? And it didn't help that you were unaware of what emotions you should have been feeling either. Should you scream for help, or moan in pleasure? Push Madara away or pull him closer?

"Kuro... this isn't..." You started, trailing off when you glanced over the very obvious tent in the redheads jeans. Oh. Oh shit.

So he was aroused by this? What even was this? Some twisted form of roleplay? A fetish that the two men discussed that you didn't know about? Did Kuro actually like this, or was his body reacting subconsciously?

Either way, you didn't have much time to think about it before Madara picked you up from under your thighs and tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll, wasting no time in climbing in between your thighs and nuzzling his nose into your panties.

"Mm~ You smell so good" He purred, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure to your core, a gasp mixed with a whorey moan leaving your lips at the feeling.

The redhead in the doorway cleared his throat, footsteps echoing in the room as he made his way over to where you lay on the bed. He sat down beside you, a hand coming out to gently stroke your cheek. It was a soothing action. One that might have made your heart melt if there wasn't another man currently lapping at your panties like a starved dog.

"Is this okay? I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first.." He apologised, his face flushed pink and his lips turned upwards into a small smile. "Just tell me if your not enjoying it and I'll kick him out, alright? That's okay?"

You gulped, then nodded, bringing your own hand up to hold his as you squirmed around on the mattress, your mind slowly but surely becoming goo at the pleasure spreading through your veins.

"Ah!- I don't know"- Madara looked up at you with those big brown eyes, choosing that moment to flatten his tongue against your clothed clit, making a show of slurping and smacking his lips together -"f-fuck yes! Oh god, please!"

With consent finally granted, Madara hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in a second and diving straight into the heat of your pussy. He flicked his tongue up and down, side to side, round in circles and everywhere he could possibly reach inside of you.

Anything to make you scream his name, and scream his name you did. You threw your head to the side, falling into Kuros lap, as he brushed over that one spot, a spot that not even Kuro had reached before.

"Shit! Right there! Ah-ha~ Madara" You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head in a death grip, shoving his tongue even further inside you. "So good!"

He pulled his tounge out of your wet hole, opting to swirl and flick it over your clit. You withered and squirmed around on the bed, griping onto the sheets as hard as possible. The knot in your lower belly was starting to build, and both Madara and Kuro could tell. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire under Madaras touch, every inch of your body begging for release.

It just felt so good. So, so, so good-

"Ah-gonna cum!"

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your lips parted and you were panting so heavy you barely had enough breath left in your lungs to moan or even scream. Juices splattered all over the face of the man in between your legs, dripping down his chin as he drank it up like it was the finest wine in the world.

Madara pulled away from your swollen cunt, climbing up onto the bed and hovering above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

"Aren't you a little slut, huh? Getting off on my tongue while your boyfriend watched? You came so quickly, does he not treat you right?" He cooed, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.

Kuro, who had been dead quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. "You didn't have to be so rough with her" He grumbled, stroking the top of your head.

Madara huffed, a grin tugging at his lips. "She loves it! Don't you know what your own girlfriend likes?" He rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to your blissed-out form. "Ready for more, sweetheart?"

[astr0star5]

“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟!! (≧∇≦)/ !! ”

shohei haizono x reader

warning: might be ooc, suggestive, and consumption of alcohol (shots).

It was a Friday night, or atleast from what you could remember. What you do know is that you, Leo (surprisingly) and Sho were playing truth or dare, at your "dorm". It started off as just playing video games and watching movies and then Leo suggested to play truth or dare with a twist. Because they were "adults" now he wanted to include taking shots into the classic truth or dare game.

The game is simple 2 or more players gather around a bottle. One of the players spins it, and whoever the bottle lands on asks one of the players, "Truth or Dare." When the player chooses if they don't want to answer the question or do the dare, depending on what level of intensity it was, the Player takes 3 or more shots.

Clearly, he was just tryna get drunk (and both him and sho aren't allowed outside of DarkWick because one of them was slacking on a mission, so he couldn't go to a club this was the best alternative).

This whole time, Leo had literally been making it hell for both you and Sho whenever the bottle lands on him. If you choose dare, it's something so embarrassing you're not gonna do, and if you choose truth, it's a question you don't want to answer. So, as of right now, you're the drunkest person in the room.

You're starting to get all giggley and smiley and stuff. It's so obvious that mentally, you're not even on earth anymore. Leo leaves the room for a bit because bathroom break, you guess. It's your turn to spin the bottle, but you don't want to wait for Leo to get back. As soon as you spin the bottle, it's surprising it ends up on you.

You smile and giggle to yourself as you slopishly point over to sho. "Truth...or dare?" Sho thinks for a second before responding with "Dare." To which you reply with a giggle "Take your shirt off!! ♡"

Did you really just say that? Sho blinks twice before replying dumbfounded awkward smile on his face. "You're joking, right?" You aggressively shake your head 'no'. "I mean, it's getting hot in here...so I'm jus tryna help you out, bro."

Sho sighs before doing as requested, and he takes his white t-shirt off, leaving him in only his pants. To which you excitedly clap as if you just won the lottery (he found it kinda cute). "You look so hot under all that, Sho!" "Thanks, I guess..."

You slowly got a little bit closer before stopping, "Can I touch them?" Sho rolled his eyes and sighed, "Whatever..." You smile with glee as you pounce on him like an animal. Too focused on touching his abs, you fail to realize how close you guys are right now. You have yet to even look at Shos' face, if only you saw how red he was.

"What the fuck." An phone camera flashes the both of you. "Are you really tryna fuck that NPC...Sho I literally only left for five minutes. Control your urges." He placed a hand on his hip, looking disgusted.

"Leo tell me you did not just take a photo..." "OH wow, look at the time. Gotta go bye!" Never in your life have you ever saw someone run so fast. Sho softly pushes you off him and instantly gets up and starts chasing Leo at 3x the speed Leo was going.

You take a good look at where you were and take in everything around you before sighing, "He left his shirt :(."

a/n: this has got to be the corniest thing I have ever written, and I might delete this later 💀