#reminder that requests are closed right now

[rafedarling]

drew dealing with rustyns tantrums yk when toddler go through that phase 🥹

love this 👶🏻 love seeing tantrum baby vs drew dad

𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞

request: open

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: new year’s eve is a night for celebrations, but for drew and you, it’s also a reminder of how challenging bedtime has become with your three-year-old son, rustyn.

warning(s): english is not my native language. toddler tantrums, perenting struggles, firm discipline (not hard or abusive)

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy

(love this gif)

New Year’s Eve always been a fun and filled with laughter, music, and the fairy lights strung around the living room. Rustyn, who had been riding a sugar high from earlier snacks and dancing with his parents, was now sprawled on the rug, building a block tower with Drew.

You glanced at the clock: 8:30 PM. Rustyn’s bedtime. It’s always been Rustyn bedtime since he was 1 and you never had a hard time putting him to bed until now

“Rustyn, baby,” you called gently, leaning forward. “It’s bedtime, sweetie.”

Rustyn didn’t even look up.

Drew tried, his tone still calm but a little firmer.

“Come on, bud. You know what time it is time to go to bed.”

Your son continued stacking blocks as if he hadn’t heard a word.

You sighed, standing and walking over to him.

“Do you want Mama or Dada to put you to bed tonight, honey?”

For a moment, Rustyn paused, considering. Drew added, “Mama’s asking you a question, bud. What’s it gonna be?”

Rustyn finally glanced up and answered with a defiant, “No.”

You glanced at Drew, your face falling slightly. Drew caught your look and immediately stood, scooping Rustyn up from the floor despite his protests.

“That’s not how this works, Rusty. It’s bedtime, no arguments,” Drew said, his voice firm but not unkind.

Rustyn immediately began to whine, squirming in Drew’s arms.

“No! no bedtime!”

Drew carried him to his room as you followed a few steps behind, your stomach already twisting at the familiar wails. The moment Drew closed the door to Rustyn’s room, the real tantrum began.

“No, no, no!” Rustyn screamed, his little fists pounding against Drew’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to sleep! I’m not tired!”

Drew sat down on the edge of Rustyn’s bed, holding him firmly but gently in his lap.

“Rustyn,” he said in a low, steady voice, “stop. I need you to calm down.”

Rustyn wailed louder, his little body trembling with frustration.

“No! wanna play!”

You lingered outside the door, listening as Drew handled the meltdown with his signature combination of patience and authority.

“Rusty,” Drew said again, this time softening his tone, “look at me.”

He gently cupped Rustyn’s face in his hands, guiding his tear-streaked eyes to meet his.

“I know you don’t want this fun night to end. I get it and I don’t want it to end either. But you know the rules. It’s bedtime, and your body needs rest.”

Rustyn sniffled but didn’t respond, still glaring at his dad with watery eyes.

“You’re upset,” Drew continued, “but screaming and hitting isn’t how we solve problems, is it?”

Rustyn shook his head slightly, his resolve beginning to crumble.

“Good,” Drew said, brushing a strand of hair out of Rustyn’s face.

“Now, let’s talk about this. Why don’t you want to go to bed?”

Rustyn hesitated before mumbling, “I want stay with Mama. No alone.”

Drew sighed, his features softening even more.

“You’re not alone, bud. Your room is right next to ours. Mama and I are always close by. But we need time to rest too, so we can keep having fun with you tomorrow.”

Rustyn whimpered, burying his face in Drew’s chest.

“But I’m not sleepy…”

“You’re not sleepy now,” Drew acknowledged, rubbing soothing circles on Rustyn’s back, “but if you stay up, you’ll be so tired tomorrow that you won’t want to play. Is that what you want?”

Rustyn shook his head vigorously.

“Okay, then. How about you lie down, and I’ll stay with you for a few minutes until you feel sleepy. Deal?”

Rustyn considered this before nodding slowly.

Drew glanced at you, standing in the doorway, and motioned for you to join them. You stepped inside, sitting beside Drew on the bed. Rustyn reached for you, and you took his small hand in yours.

“You know,” you said softly, “Mama doesn’t like bedtime fights either. It makes me sad to see you so upset, baby.”

Rustyn’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

Your heart melted.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just try to be a good boy for Dada, okay? He’s only trying to help you.”

Rustyn nodded, leaning against Drew as his eyelids began to droop. Drew laid him down gently, pulling the blankets up around him.

“Goodnight, buddy,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s forehead.

“Night night, Dada. Night night, Mama,” Rustyn murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

As the two of you stepped out of the room and closed the door, you let out a deep breath.

“See?” Drew said with a small smile. “Easy.”

You gave him a look.

“Easy? He was screaming like we were torturing him five minutes ago!”

Drew chuckled, pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, maybe not easy. But he’s learning. He just needs consistency. And a little tough love.”

“You’re so good with him,” you admitted, resting your head on his chest. “I don’t know how you stay so calm.”

“It’s because I’ve got you,” Drew said, kissing the top of your head.

“We’re a team, and Rustyn’s lucky to have us.”

[dollishsz]

BATBOYS JEALOUSY HCS ── .✦

a/n: I just ate which like now my stomach hurts because I ate this spicy burger (10/10) and my stomach is hurting so let’s hope i don’t die from a burger😭 also request from anon (here) tysm!

(Tags: batboys when jealous of crush!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Internally Brooding, Externally Stoic: Bruce keeps a calm, composed exterior, but inside? Full-on brooding mode. He watches every move, his jaw clenching just slightly whenever the other guy laughs a little too much.

Passive-Aggressive Moves: Bruce subtly but effectively tries to interrupt. Maybe he’ll walk by and offer you something he never does, like coffee or water, just to make his presence known. “You looked thirsty,” he’ll say, while the guy looks confused.

Petty Rich Guy Move: He’ll ‘accidentally’ mention something about Wayne Enterprises, as if to remind everyone just how wealthy and powerful he is. “Funny, we were discussing corporate acquisitions the other day,” he’ll drop casually, as if it relates. (Let’s hope he doesn’t drain his bank 😞🙏)

The Comedy: When Alfred catches him glaring, he’ll dryly say, “Master Wayne, perhaps you should try blinking before you permanently furrow your brow.” Bruce will immediately deny he’s bothered, even as he side-eyes you again.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Charm Dial Up to 100: Dick doesn’t even try to hide his jealousy. He’ll swoop into the conversation, throwing in his most dazzling smile. “Hey, I didn’t realize we were letting random guys have all the fun,” he’ll say with a teasing grin, while subtly nudging the guy aside.

Over-the-Top Compliments: He’ll suddenly become your biggest hype-man. “You know, she’s literally the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful person in the room, right? No offense to you, man.” The other guy feels awkward, and you just laugh while Dick grins smugly.

Puppy Dog Eyes: If you keep talking to the other guy, Dick’s smile might falter just a little, and he’ll stand in the background, clearly pouting. It’s so obvious that even you can’t help but laugh.

The Comedy: He’ll mutter, “Didn’t even know jealousy could feel this personal,” under his breath while side-eyeing the guy like it’s a soap opera.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Trying to Play it Cool: Jason’s jealousy is obvious in how stiff and silent he gets. He leans against the nearest wall, arms crossed, glaring like the other guy just insulted his whole family.

Blunt Interruptions: He doesn’t have the patience to be subtle. He’ll walk up and ask, “So, who’s this?” in the least friendly tone possible, with a fake smile that could curdle milk.

Accidental Intimidation: Jason’s sheer presence is intimidating, so the poor guy talking to you will probably start feeling uncomfortable as Jason looms over, cracking his knuckles or adjusting his jacket dramatically.

The Comedy: If you don’t notice, Jason will mutter sarcastically, “Oh sure, talk to Captain Chit-Chat over there. Not like I’m standing right here or anything.” Roy, nearby, might add, “Jason, you’re doing that ‘death stare’ thing again,” and Jason will growl, “I’m not jealous.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward and Overthinking Everything: Tim doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s a mess. He watches from a distance, wringing his hands, thinking, Should I interrupt? Maybe she likes him? Maybe I’m reading too much into it…

Accidental Sulking: He tries to focus on something else, but his mind keeps wandering. He sits down nearby, pretending to work on his laptop, typing nonsense just so he can stay close without being obvious. “Haha, yeah…no big deal…” deletes everything he just typed.

Passive Observing: Tim eventually tries to casually stroll by, acting like he just happened to be there. “Oh, hey… didn’t see you there. Weird, right?” He’s so awkward it’s endearing.

The Comedy: If Kon or Bart sees him sulking, they’ll tease him mercilessly. “Dude, go talk to her.” Tim panics, “I can’t. She’s busy… laughing… with him…” Kon: “You’re hopeless.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Silent Judgment Mode: Damian watches with narrowed eyes, judging every aspect of the guy talking to you. He might even mutter things under his breath like, “He stands like a fool,” or “He can’t even articulate properly.”

Direct Interruption: Damian doesn’t have time for subtlety. He’ll walk up and flatly say, “Are you finished with this conversation? It’s becoming unbearable.” The other guy is usually too shocked to respond.

Unintentional Comedy: He’ll start critiquing the guy’s conversation topics. “She doesn’t care about your opinions on sports,” he’ll state matter-of-factly, as you try not to laugh.

The Comedy: If you ask if he’s jealous, he’ll scoff. “Jealous? Of that imbecile? Hardly.” But the tips of his ears are turning red, and you know he’s lying.

[paxtito]

and they were roommates

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 2717

warnings: smut 18+, masturbating, oral (r receiving), p in v, swearing

summary: tara is out running errands, she’d be gone for hours- or so you thought

a/n: i’m working on multiple request atm— wenclair x reader one and the radiohead song (i’m just listening and reading the song to get an idea atm) also thank you to the anon for requesting this and their kind words!

The dorm is quiet, unusually so, and it’s kind of nice. Tara had mentioned heading out for the day—something about running errands and meeting up with Sam—and while you’re used to the hum of her presence, the silence isn’t unwelcome.

You glance around the shared space. It’s small but cozy, a mix of her personality and yours crammed into every corner. Her side of the room is meticulously organized—her books stacked neatly, her bed made with precision. In contrast, your side looks… well, lived-in. A pile of clothes rests precariously on your desk chair, and your bed is a haphazard mess of blankets and pillows.

You plop onto your bed, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media. Without Tara around, you’re left to your own devices—literally. You snort at a meme, sending it to her out of habit.

“That’s stupid,” she’d probably reply, but there’d be a hint of fondness in it.

After a while, you glance at the clock. Noon. The day stretches ahead, and you find yourself feeling restless. You could clean up your side of the room, but… nah. Instead, you wander over to Tara’s desk.

Her books catch your eye first—old classics mixed with crime thrillers and a few surprisingly heartfelt poetry collections. You pick one up, flipping through the pages idly. A note scribbled in the margin catches your attention, her handwriting sharp and deliberate: “This makes no sense. Why didn’t he just leave?”

You chuckle softly. Even in her annotations, Tara’s blunt honesty shines through.

Your gaze drifts to her bulletin board. It’s a mix of pinned photos, ticket stubs, and little reminders. One of the pictures is of the two of you, taken on move-in day. You’re grinning like an idiot, throwing up a peace sign, while she’s glaring at the camera, her arms crossed—but there’s a subtle upturn to her lips that gives her away.

You flop onto your bed, the old springs creaking under your weight. The small TV in the corner flickers to life as you jab at the remote, the sound of canned laughter filling the room. It's some trashy reality show, but it's mindless and distracting—just what you need right now.

As you settle in, your gaze drifts around the room. Tara's side is always so pristine, everything in its place. It's annoying how tidy she is. You, on the other hand... well, your side looks like a bomb went off in a thrift store.

You reach for the bag of chips on your nightstand, tearing it open with a loud rip. The salty scent mingles with the faint smell of Tara's lavender body spray, creating a strange but not unpleasant odor.

You munch away, eyes glued to the screen, as snippets of conversation from the show drift through your thoughts.

"I think I'm going to kill her," one of the contestants is saying, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

You snort. Yeah, right. They're all too busy primping and preening to actually do anything. Unlike the Ghostface killers, they've got no balls.

You check the time again, just to be sure. Tara won't be back for at least a couple of hours. With the coast clear, a mischievous grin spreads across your face. Time to take advantage of the privacy.

You reach over to your bedside table, fishing around in the drawer until your fingers close around the cool, smooth bottle of lotion. You pop the cap open with practiced ease, squirting a generous amount into your palm. The slick, slightly cold sensation sends a shiver down your spine as you rub your hands together, warming the lotion.

With your other hand, you unlock your phone and pull up your favorite porn site. Your fingers fly over the screen as you type in your search, already feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal. A few taps later, and a video starts playing, the sounds of moaning and grunting filling the now-silent room.

You settle back against your pillow, one hand already slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. Your cock is already half-hard, twitching in anticipation. You wrap your fingers around it, giving it a slow stroke as you watch the scene unfold on your screen.

You stroke your cock slowly, teasingly, savoring the building pleasure. Your other hand roams over your chest, pinching and tweaking a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The dual sensations send sparks of electricity shooting through your body, making your hips buck up into your touch.

On screen, the actress lets out a particularly loud moan, and you match it with a groan of your own. Fuck, that's hot.

Just as you're getting into a rhythm, the door to your dorm swings open without warning. You freeze, your hand still wrapped around your throbbing cock, as Tara steps inside.

"Shit!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her. You're sprawled on your bed, pants pulled down, phone in hand, and a sticky puddle of lube on your stomach.

Mortification floods through you, and you frantically try to cover yourself, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over your lap. Your face burns with embarrassment, and you can't meet Tara's gaze.

"I-I thought you said you'd be gone for hours!" you stammer, trying to come up with some excuse. But there's no hiding what you were doing.

Tara stands in the doorway, frozen in shock. Her eyes dart between your flushed face and the pillow. After a moment, she seems to shake herself out of her stupor.

Tara's eyes flick down to the pillow, then back up to your face. Her expression is unreadable, but there's a glint in her eye that makes your stomach flutter with nerves and excitement.

She steps further into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The sound seems to echo in the tense silence.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she says, her voice low and teasing. She saunters over to your bed, the mattress dipping under her weight as she sits on the edge.

Your breath hitches as she reaches out, her fingers brushing against the pillow in your lap. Slowly, she pulls it away, revealing your straining erection. You whimper at the sudden exposure, the cool air hitting your overheated skin.

Tara's gaze rakes over your cock, and you feel yourself grow even harder under her scrutiny. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and your hips twitch involuntarily.

"Looks like you were in the middle of something," she purrs, her hand resting lightly on your thigh. Her touch is electric, sending shivers racing up your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be back so soon," you manage to say, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.

Tara leans in closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "Don't apologize," she whispers, her lips brushing against your skin. "I think I can help with that."

And then, before you can process what's happening, she's sliding down your body, her hands pushing your legs apart. You gasp as her mouth hovers over your cock, her hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, Tara," you groan, your fingers tangling in her hair as she takes you into her mouth. The wet heat of her tongue is almost too much to bear, and you buck your hips, desperate for more.

Tara hums around you, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body. She bobs her head, taking you deeper each time, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock.

Your head falls back against the pillows as Tara works her magic. Her mouth is a wonder, hot and wet and so damn perfect. You can feel every ridge and valley of her tongue as it glides along your shaft, tracing the veins and swirling around the head.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," you groan, your hips rocking up to meet her movements. Your fingers tighten in her hair, gently guiding her pace.

Tara hums in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. She takes you deeper, her nose brushing against your pubic bone as she swallows around you.

The sight of her, head bobbing in your lap, lips stretched obscenely around your cock, is almost too much to handle. You feel yourself getting close, your balls tightening and your stomach muscles clenching.

"Tara, I'm gonna..." you warn, your voice strained and breathless.

But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her head moving faster, her hand pumping in tandem. She looks up at you through her lashes, her eyes dark with lust and something else, something intense and hungry.

It's too much. With a guttural groan, you explode in her mouth, your cock pulsing as you spill your seed down her throat. She swallows it all, not spilling a single drop, and continues to suck and lick until you're spent.

Finally, she releases you with a lewd pop, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks immensely pleased with herself, a satisfied smirk on her kiss-swollen lips.

You collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your whole body feels like jelly, boneless and sated.

"Holy shit," you breathe, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair. "That was... wow."

Tara giggles, the sound low and sultry. She crawls up your body, straddling your hips and leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You roll over, pinning Tara beneath you on the bed. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. You capture her lips in another heated kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste yourself on her tongue.

Your hands roam her body, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. She arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Breaking the kiss, you sit up and pull her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly aside. Your eyes drink in the sight of her, clad only in a lacy bra. You lean down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of her cleavage.

Tara's fingers thread through your hair, tugging gently as she holds you to her. "More," she breathes, her voice husky with need.

You oblige, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. It falls away, freeing her breasts to your hungry gaze. You take a moment to admire them, full and perfect, before lowering your head to take one pebbled nipple into your mouth.

Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed. You lavish attention on her breast, sucking and nibbling until she's writhing beneath you. Your hand slides down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans.

"These need to go," you murmur against her skin, hooking your fingers in the denim and pulling it down her legs. She lifts her hips to help, kicking the jeans off and leaving her in just a pair of matching lace panties.

You sit back on your heels, taking in the sight of her laid out before you, flushed and wanting. Your cock twitches, already hardening again. You reach down to push your own pants fully off, kicking them away.

Tara's eyes widen as she takes in your naked form, her gaze zeroing in on your erection. "Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you.

You grind your cock against her, feeling the heat of her through the thin lace. Tara gasps, her hips lifting to meet yours, seeking more friction. The rough drag of your hard length against her clothed clit sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you both.

"Please," she whimpers, her fingers digging into your shoulders. "I need you inside me."

You don't make her wait any longer. Hooking your fingers in her panties, you yank them down her legs, tossing them aside carelessly. Tara spreads her legs wider, inviting you in.

You position yourself at her entrance, the head of your cock nudging against her slick folds. Tara's breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed as you press forward.

You sink into her inch by delicious inch, groaning at the tight, wet heat enveloping you. Tara is so fucking perfect, her walls gripping you like a vice. You bottom out, your hips flush against hers, buried to the hilt inside her.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you pant, fighting the urge to just start pounding into her. Instead, you hold still, letting her adjust to the stretch.

Tara rolls her hips, urging you on. "Move," she demands, her nails raking down your back.

You don't need to be told twice. You start to thrust, setting a steady rhythm that has you both gasping and moaning. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bed.

Tara wraps her legs around your waist, using the leverage to meet your thrusts. Her tits bounce with every snap of your hips, and you lean down to capture a nipple in your mouth, sucking hard.

"Yes, just like that," Tara hisses, her head thrashing on the pillow. "Don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. You fuck her hard and fast, chasing your pleasure and hers. The coil of heat in your belly winds tighter and tighter, signaling your impending release.

You can feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening and your thrusts becoming erratic. But you force yourself to slow down, to focus on Tara's pleasure instead of your own.

Tara's nails dig into your shoulders, her teeth sinking into your neck as she holds on for dear life. Her walls flutter around you, tightening and releasing in a rhythm that tells you she's close.

You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars. Tara keens, her body tensing beneath you.

You reach between your bodies, finding her clit with your fingers. Tara bucks against your hand, her hips moving in frantic circles as you rub tight circles over the sensitive nub. You can feel her getting closer, her inner walls starting to flutter around your cock.

"Come on, baby," you urge, your voice low and rough. "Come for me."

Tara's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm crashes over her. She cries out, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she comes undone.

The feeling of her coming around your cock is too much. With a guttural groan, you pull out, your hand flying over your shaft as you stroke yourself to completion. Your cum spurts out, painting Tara's stomach in thick, white ropes.

You collapse beside her, both of you panting and sweaty. Tara turns her head to look at you, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

"That was intense," she murmurs, reaching out to brush a sweat-dampened lock of hair from your forehead.

You grab some tissues from the box on your nightstand, quickly wiping the cum from Tara's stomach. She sighs contentedly as you clean her, her body still tingling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

As you toss the used tissues aside, you can't help but let your gaze wander over her naked form. Tara is a vision, her skin flushed and glowing, her hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo. She looks thoroughly debauched, and the sight sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

But then reality starts to set in. You just had sex with your roommate. Your best friend. What does this mean for your relationship? Will things be awkward now?

Tara seems to sense your thoughts. She sits up, pulling the sheet around her naked body. "Hey," she says softly, reaching out to cup your cheek. "We okay?"

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Tara smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good," she murmurs against your mouth. "Because I want to do that again. Soon."

With that, she hops off the bed, completely unselfconscious in her nudity. She pads over to her closet, rummaging around for something to wear.

You watch her, your mind still reeling. What have you gotten yourself into?

—

request: where reader and Tara are roommates and reader thinks Tara is out so reader starts to masturbate but Tara comes home early and walks in on reader so she gives a helping hand (a blow job) then they do it yk?

[greengoblinswifey]

Break Up With Your Girlfriend II— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you can’t help but be jealous of your older sister and nicholas’ relationship but in the end, who’s the real winner?

warnings— bitchy!reader, infidelity, angst, crying, jealousy, fluff, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, arguing, happy ending but not for everyone(lmao).

a/n— i do NOT condone ts in real life nor is this a scenario nicholas would be in, this is all fantasy and was requested my oomf!

Part I

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The apartment was eerily quiet, except for the low hum of the television and the occasional laugh from your sister as she snuggled into Nicholas on the couch. They seemed so wrapped up in each other, and it made something inside you twist. You'd never felt more uncomfortable in their presence, especially when they were so open with their affection for each other.

You sat on the armchair, pretending to scroll through your phone, though you couldn't focus. They were just too comfortable. Nicholas had his arm draped over your sister’s shoulders, his hand resting on her thigh, casually tracing circles along her brown skin as she leaned against him. The warmth between them was obvious, and it made your heart ache in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You rolled your eyes. “God, you guys are disgusting,” you muttered, not loud enough for them to hear.

Your sister glanced at you from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t stop smiling up at Nicholas. He grinned back, his hand moving to the back of her neck to pull her into a kiss. You couldn’t help but look away, your stomach twisting with jealousy.

But what stung more was that he didn’t seem to notice you. He was lost in her, his focus completely on your sister. The way he kissed her, how he whispered sweet things to her, the way she smiled so brightly—it all made your chest ache with a kind of longing you couldn't explain.

You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on anything other than the sight of them. But it was impossible. Their closeness, their affection, it just felt like too much. It had been like this for the past couple of weeks. The moments and sex you shared with Nicholas when your sister wasn’t around seemed to fade into the background now, barely remembered in the wake of their bond.

You knew you shouldn’t be feeling like this, that you should be happy for your older sister, but seeing them together only made the knot of jealousy in your stomach tighten. You tried to push the feeling away, but it wouldn’t go.

Later that evening, you could hear them in the other room. The muffled noises of soft moans and whispered words drifted through the thin walls. Your sister’s voice rose higher and higher as the sounds of skin slapping skin followed. You rolled over in bed, clutching the pillow to your face, trying to drown out the sounds. But it was impossible. Every breath, every sound—they were so loud.

It was a reminder of the night they’d spent together countless times before, a reminder of the intimacy you’d shared with Nicholas. But now it was different. It was her he was with, and it was her he was giving all of himself to.

You fought the tears, but they came anyway. You had no right to feel this way. You told yourself you shouldn’t, but that didn’t make it stop.

When the sounds finally stopped, you waited. The silence seemed to stretch on, too long, too heavy. The door creaked open, and there he was—Nicholas, stepping out of the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was messy, his eyes tired but still warm. He looked satisfied, and something about it made your chest tighten all over again.

He froze when he saw you, sitting there in the dark, tears streaking down your face. His expression shifted from exhaustion to concern in an instant. Without saying a word, he crossed the room, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, his voice gentle as he stroked your hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You couldn't stop the tears, and you didn’t try. You buried your face against his chest, his skin warm under your cheek. “It’s not fair,” you muttered, your voice breaking. “She gets to have you and- and I’m just here. Always just here.”

Nicholas’ arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Baby, don’t cry. You know it’s not like that.”

You pulled away just enough to look at him, your eyes red and puffy. “Don’t fucking touch me after you’ve fucked her,” you said, your voice shaky. “I can’t—I can’t do this.”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, his gaze softening. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held you tighter, rubbing circles on your back in a soothing gesture.

“I didn’t, shit, I didn’t mean for you to feel this way,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You mean everything to me. You know that, right?”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t look away from him. “But you’re with her. You’re always with her and fucking her.”

Nicholas’ lips brushed against your forehead, then kissed away your tear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you princess,” he murmured. “I used protection, okay? And I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking about you. The whole time. You’re the one I want.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you just stared at him, unsure how to feel. There was something about his sincerity that made the jealousy burn even deeper, but there was also that small sliver of warmth in your chest that told you he was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He kissed your forehead again, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I never wanted to make you feel like this. But don’t worry. You’re not just some other girl, baby.”

You didn’t say anything in response, your thoughts too tangled. You knew this situation was messy, that you shouldn’t feel this way, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him in a way you shouldn’t. You wanted the connection that he shared with your sister, but was that something you could have?

Later, you found yourself once again alone with him, your sister having gone out to run errands with her homegirls. Nicholas was sitting on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his gaze following you as you paced the living room. He looked like he wanted to say something, but you didn’t want to hear it.

You knew the rules. You knew the lines you shouldn’t cross. But it felt impossible to keep your distance from him.

He must have noticed the tension, because when he stood up, his voice was soft. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer right away, only glanced at him. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. You felt the heat between you, even when you tried to step away.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though you knew he could see through you. His fingers brushed your arm, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, even if just for a moment.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen or to hurt you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

And in that moment, you didn’t know what was real anymore. The jealousy, the longing, the desire—it all twisted inside you, and you didn’t know what would come of it.

“I can’t stop thinking about you too, I miss your touch,” you pouted.

“No pouting baby, I can fuck you in your room, give you what you want,” he suggested.

You didn’t get a word out before he picked you up, making you squeal and carried you to the room you practically lived in with the amount of time you spent with them.

“Please, fuck me,” you begged.

He pulled up your white top, leaning down to suck on your boobs as you arched into him, the warmth of his mouth contrast to the coldness you felt in your heart towards his relationship.

You both knew you didn’t have much time, you had to make it quick and worthwhile before she got home.

He pulled himself out of his sweats and you bit your lips seeing he was already hard and ready.

“Who’s that for?” you asked, pulling off your shorts and thong.

“Oh baby, it’s all for you, I can’t even fucking get hard with her unless I’m thinking about you, my dick is always hard for you.”

His words were more than enough to calm the jealousy coursing through your veins. Wrapping your legs around him, you pulled his muscular frame on top of you, desperately grinding against him to get some friction.

He rubbed the tip against your folds, making you squirm underneath him.

“Please Nick, no teasing, I need you so bad, please fuck me,” you cried.

Your begging was put to an end as you felt Nicholas thrust into you, your jaw falling agape as he filled you to the brim.

“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take my cock,” he murmured against your ear.

He started fucking you hard, a testament to the anger and tension you’d both been feeling about the entire situation. The bed creaked under you, and your tits bounced as his hips snapped against you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a filthy mouth, I’ll have to fuck it next time,” he chuckled.

“P-please, I want you to do any and everything to me,” you moaned, tightening your legs around him.

He began slamming into you harder, leaning down to swirl his tongue around your nipples. Your hands tangled in his messy hair as you practically screamed for him to fuck you harder.

“Harder baby? Fuck you’re really needy and this goddamn pussy? Drenched,” he panted.

You both were so engulfed in each other, Nicholas pounding you like he would never get the opportunity ever again, that you didn’t hear the front door slam. You were whimpering so loudly, you didn’t hear your sister’s bags fall to the ground and her heels click loudly against the floor as she ran to where she heard the sounds.

The room door was already wide open and as you opened your eyes, they were met with the shocked face of your older sister. She stood in the door way, her hands trembling as your jaw fell agape, just the way yours was except only one of you was enjoying yourself.

“Oh God Nick, I love your big fucking cock inside me,” you moaned, staring right at your sister as she stared back, frozen.

“And I love this wet pussy, fuck—you’re so much tighter than her,” he moaned, his thrusts almost erratic.

As the words left his lips, you arched into him, moaning his name loudly as your orgasm ripped through you. You couldn’t believe you squirted while your sister watched her boyfriend fuck you—her innocent little sister.

“What the fuck?” she screamed, finally finding her voice.

Nicholas bolted off you, startled.

“Oh shit, he said, pulling the sheets to cover him.

“Don’t oh shit me you fucking disgusting piece of shit! My sister? Really? You ruined her innocence like this?” she yelled.

Your face contorted in confusion. The stupid bitch wasn’t even blaming you, you were somehow still her innocent little sister—for now at least. She was blaming him.

“I’m— I’m, I really—” Nicholas struggled to get the words out.

“You’re disgusting,” she screamed, her hands shaking, “you can’t even fucking apologize to me.”

“And sis, oh my fucking God, are you okay? Why would you do this?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Because you don’t deserve him, I do, I want him, he’s mine, it’s not fair you get to have him,” you pouted, pulling Nicholas close to you as he placed a kiss on your temple.

“Get out, both of you,” she said, almost not believing the words leaving her lips. She couldn’t believe what you had said to her and somehow, she still saw you as the innocent little sister that stole her clothes and her toys when you were younger, Nicholas was the new toy.

“Oh sweetheart, I think you should get out, my name’s on the lease, really, this is my apartment,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I think you should stay at mom’s for a while,” you sneered.

“Oh, you whore!” she yelled, charging at you, the veil finally lifting from her eyes to see you for who you truly were.

Nicholas immediately jumped in front of her, stopping her from laying a finger on you.

“Get your goddamn hands off me,” she screamed and that’s when the waterworks started. She barely started crying before she ran out of the apartment, presumably to your mother’s.

“Well, that was a disaster,” you laughed and Nicholas chuckled afterwards.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to—

You placed a kiss on your new man’s lips, silencing him.

“We’ll deal with all the drama in the morning, right now, we need to pick up where we left off so you can cum inside me,” you giggled.

You were an evil bitch, good dick really did a number on you. But you could easily play the young and naive card if the other bitch decided to inform your mother. For now, you could enjoy Nicholas, he was finally yours and yours alone.

[hsunrry]

date night // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~2k

warnings: smut18+, angst, praise, unprotected sex, creampie

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you know how important this meeting was for me.” you said coldly from passenger seat. your arms were crossed over your chest. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, okay?” he apologised, his voice laced with frustration. “something came up, i couldn’t just drop this.”

“always the same, Harry.” you shook your head. his eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on defensive tone.

“and what’s that supposed to mean? that i can’t do anything right in your eyes?” he looked at you briefly before his eyes went back to the road.

“no, that’s there’s always an excuse.” you mumbled. your body language was closed off to him. “it’s just that i was reminding you about it for two months and you still were almost an hour late.”

“i heard you, okay?” his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “you reminded me every single day. but real life happens sometimes and i had to deal with something urgent. i promised i’d make it up to you.” he glanced over at you.

“what was that urgent then?” you asked. “what was that important?”

“my manager called, there was a…” he sighed. “problem with my upcoming tour schedule that only i could handle. it wasn’t something i could ignore or delegate.” he paused for a second. “look, i get that i messed up.” you bite inside of your cheek, looking out of the car window. his frustration boiled over when you gave him silent treatment. “you know what? you always do this.”

“do what?” you asked, not looking at him. he gestured broadly, his hand sweeping across the interior of the car.

“you always stay quiet. always keep everything bottle up inside. ant then you just… shut down. like a switch flipped and you’re no longer there.” his voice was low.

“because i’m frustrated, what am i supposed to do?” you asked coldly. his expression darkened.

“yell at me then! storm off! do something other than just sitting there looking pissed off!” he yelled, his knuckled white from gripping steering wheel so tightly.

“pull over.” without a word, he pulled over to the side of the road, putting the car in parking mode.

“what now?” he turned to face you fully, his eyes blazing with frustration. you unbuckled your seatbelt, getting out of the car and going into the direction of the house. he quickly got out of the car as well, following you. “where do you think you’re going?” he called after you, his voice laced with irritation. he quickened his pace to catch up to you.

“i’m going home myself.” you said, your arms crossed on your chest from anger and cold air. he grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“walking home yourself? it’s a 15-minute drive, you’re not going anywhere!” he shouted, his face red in anger. “get back in the car!” he demanded, trying to tug you back towards the vehicle.

“no!” you snapped, feeling his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting you up and bending you over his shoulder. “Harry!”

“if you’re not going to act like an adult about this, then i’ll treat you like a child. now be quiet, before i spank your ass.” he carried you to the car, talking through gritted teeth.

“you wouldn’t dare.” you mumbled. he smirked, giving your bottom hard smack, the sound echoing through the night air. he opened backseat doors, tossing you inside. he quickly gets to the driver’s seat, starting the car. he glanced at you in rearview mirror only to see you pouting back there.

“now, are you going to behave yourself or do i need to come back there and remind you who’s in charge?” he was gripping the steering wheel, ready to drive.

“fuck off.” you mumbled, watching him turning off the engine and walking out of the car. he sat in the backseat, pulling you astride his lap. “what are you doing?”

“i’m giving you a timeout, little one.” he placed his hands on your thighs, going up and down gently, almost soothingly. “now, can we talk normally?” you shrugged at his words. his hands slid up higher on your thighs as he held your gaze intensively. “i miss you when you’re like this.” he admitted softly, one hand moving up to cup your cheek. “i miss hearing your voice, seeing your smile…” he traced his thumb across your bottom lip.

“what are you expecting when i’m mad at you?” you asked, looking into his eyes this whole time. he sighed.

“for you to talk to me, not ignore me or mumble under your breath.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “for you to, i don’t know, yell at me, but not giving me silent treatment.”

“i’m just upset you were so late. you promised me you’ll be there no matter what. i was talking about this meeting for two months.” you said quietly. his expression softened with guilt.

“i know, love. i’m sorry i broke my promise.” he ran his hand through your hair. “this problem with schedule was last minute, but that’s not an excuse. i should have been there on time.” he leaned his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes, biting inside of your cheek. he knew it was a sign that you were very upset. he hated every second of it, he hated making you mad. “look at me, please.” he asked softly, his voice gentler with every word. when you opened your eyes to look at him, he noticed tears welling up in them and his heart sank at the sight. he gently wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes with his thumb. “baby…” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. you sniffed. he held you tighter against his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. “don’t cry, please. you know i hate seeing you cry…” he kissed the top of your head, running soothing circles on your back. “i know i fucked up, i’m so sorry…” you nuzzled your face into his neck. his arms tightened around you when he felt your warm breath against his neck. after few seconds his hands moved to cup both sides of your face, tilting it up to look at him. “listen to me, i’m so fucking sorry.” his thumbs brushed away the remaining tears. you nodded quietly. his voice was gentle, but serious. “i need to know you forgive me. i don’t like when we’re not talking. it drives me mad, knowing you’re disappointed in me.” he stroked your hair, waiting for your response.

“it’s not that i’m disappointed in you, i’m just sad that you promised me to be there.” you said quietly. his expression was soft, but intense.

“i know… and that makes it worse. your sadness hurts more than anything else could. i fucked up something special to you…” he paused, his hands still tenderly framing your face. “i’m so sorry lovie, really.” you nodded again. he sighed, pulling you closer and pressing his forehead to yours again. “tell me what to do to make this right.” his hands moved to your waist, holding you close.

“just be there next time.” you sighed quietly. he looked at you intently, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. he needed to know you were serious about giving him another chance to not mess up again.

“you can count on it. next time, i’ll be there early.” he nodded solemnly. you managed a quiet ‘okay’ in response. he watched you carefully, waiting for any sign that you were truly over this argument. he didn’t wanted to push his luck, but he also didn’t wanted you to be silently upset. he decided to test the waters a little. “you really not mad at me anymore?”

“i’m not.” you shook your head slightly. he raised his eyebrow sceptically, tilting his head to the side. he pulled you even closer.

“you sure? you’re not giving me the cold shoulder or anything?” he asked, searching your face for any hint of residual anger. you chuckled softly, shaking your head again. his face lit up with relief and joy as he heard your laugh. he pulled you into tight hug, burying his face in your neck. “i missed you.” he murmured, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw.

“mhm.” you hummed against his neck. he held you tightly, savouring the feeling. after a moment he pulled out slightly, to look at you.

“you know, i was thinking…” he started.

“about what?” he smiled softly at your question, his hands resting on your waist.

“about making it up to you.” he said, his eyes filled with determination. he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “starting with this.”

“i’m reminding you that we’re in the car.” you chuckled softly. he grinned, his hands moving to either side of your face.

“and i’m reminding you that we’re very much alone right now, with tinted windows.” his thumb gently stroked your cheek. when you smiled, he closed the distance between you two, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. it was a sweet, tender kiss, filled with all the love and apology. “i’m sorry.” he whispered against your lips.

“mhm.” you hummed into his mouth, feeling his hands lifting your dress up, exposing your legs and ass. he deepened the kiss, his hands splayed out on your thighs. he broke the kiss to trial soft kisses on your neck. he unbuckled his belt with deft movements, his hands then moving to unzip his pants. he lifted his hips slightly to push it down along with his boxers, freeing himself. he looked up at you, his voice low and husky.

“come here, love.” you lifted your hips up, moving your panties to the side and lowering yourself at him. he let out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly. he leaned back in the seat, his eyes never leaving yours as you started to move. “fuck, you feel amazing.” he breathed, his hands guiding your hips as you rode him slowly. he leaned forward, claiming your mouth in another passionate kiss. “right there.” he moaned when you started to move faster, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. “that’s perfect…” he broke the kiss to pant, his head falling back against the headrest. his hands roamed up your stomach to your waist, his touch gentle yet

firm. “faster.” he urged, his hips bucking up to meet yours. “look at me, baby.” and you did, moving faster. his eyes locked with yours, dark with desire and love. his breath became ragged as he watched you move on top of him, his hands back on your hips. “beautiful.” he whispered, leaning forward to capture your lips in another intense kiss. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you gasped into the kiss. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he thrust up into you, the car rocking slightly with the motion. he swallowed your moans with his mouth, his heart racing in his chest. he felt himself getting close, his body tensing.

“i’m so close, baby.” he gasped into the kiss.

“me too.” you responded. he felt your body tense around him. he tightened his hold on you, one hand moving to tangle in your hair as he thrusts deeper. “you can’t come inside me, we don’t have anything to clean me up, i’ll suck you off.” his eyes darkened at your suggestion.

“no fucking way, baby, i’m filling this pussy up.” his cock twitched inside you. “i’ll clean you up with my mouth.” he grunted when you started moving faster, moaning at his words. his hips were moving erratically as he chased his release. he felt his orgasm building, his balls tightening. you cried out, clenching around him when you finished. “fuck, i’m coming!” he moaned, burying his face in your neck as he came hard, filling you with his hot seeds. he panted heavily, his body shaking with aftershocks. he pulled back to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “i love you.”

[circeyoru]

Love Trial = Requested

The Requests

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

Sung Jinwoo. The Hunter who was praised for his bravery and selflessness, the Hunter who was the embodiment of Cinderella, and the Hunter who was hailed as a hero no matter where he went and how he acted. All because he acted for the good of the people around him, be it former foes or strangers in another country, he protected all. He was humanity’s strongest shield and sword against the dangers of the monsters within the vile Gates.

Yet to you, his shining image was clouded with the shadows that surrounded him. In your memory of him, one stood out more than the rest, more than the good deeds he’s done, more than the joyous memories you made with him.

“I’m sorry. Let’s break up.”

His words pierced your heart and body like no other. The shield you held over your heart was long gone and the walls you built around you long crumbled, all because of the knight in front of you. You can’t say you didn’t expect it, you have and mentally prepared yourself, still… It hurts oh so much.

“I understand. I wish you happiness, Hunter Sung. May your days be nothing of smiles and content.”

And you turned and left to hide your tears. Even knowing that Jinwoo would one day leave you because he was stronger now and would have more and better choices, you craved—clung—to the fantasy that he wouldn’t leave you behind after everything that you’ve done for him. You drank till your body couldn’t handle and your bartender friend called in your reliable friend from back in your college days. You cried in his chest. Why? Why weren’t you a Hunter as well? You could have done more! More for your dearest lover! Maybe then, you wouldn’t be abandoned. 

That night was agonizing to live through. It was the worst day of your life. Perhaps, you were in love with the idea of love. You and Jinwoo did fall for the other over some silly comment and gossip from your classmates, then you started seeing the other differently. You two thought they were right and loved each other like actual lovers. How immature of you. Look what that led you?

It took some time, but you recovered with the help of your college friend. He helped more than you could ever thank him for. If he weren’t such a workaholic or that heated up then maybe your heart could have been swayed. Still, you knew for a fact; that you couldn’t—wouldn’t—be in another relationship any time soon.

When the world appeared to be coming to an end, you stared out your apartment window and sighed. Jinwoo must be saying his final farewells to his loved ones; his mother, his younger sister, that brother of a Hunter Jinho, and his new lover Cha Hae-In. It didn’t ache as much now than before when you thought about their official relationship and Jinwoo moving on so quickly while you took your time recovering. Now, you were fine with the time you had for yourself.

Your phone rang and you picked it up without a thought, a voice spoke from the other end. “World’s ending, thought I should check up on you.”

“How nice of you.” You chuckled from your end and retreated back into your apartment and away from the window, “Aren’t you busy with your guild affairs to call me?”

“I can still rest, can’t I? Here I was being nice and now I’m scolded.” You hummed, knowing the man from the other end heard it loud and clear. There was a pause before he continued, “Any regrets? Might as well say it since the world is ending.”

“Why should I tell you?” You meant it as a tease since you two have been close and shared a lot with each other. Way more that people could have confused you two as lovers at some point.

“Think of it as a goal for your next life. I wish we had our silly friendship and that there were no more beasts to fight off so I could work.”

You remained silent for a while. What would you wish for? What was your regret? You glanced over to a corner, you know it was because of the lighting that there was a shadow, but you couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain someone. Your lips moved while your eyes were glued to the shadow, speaking your mind, “I regret having let down my guard for him. I wish… I never met him.”

Whether it was the heavens taking pity on you or cursing you, you can’t tell. The moment you woke up, you were back home and alive. The only difference was that you have shrunk. No. That’s too light of a term. To be more specific, you have turned back to a child. It made no sense whatsoever that it was a dream. A dream too realistic since you could feel the clothes covering your body and the wind against your skin, even smell the familiar cooking of your parents. Not to mention, eat it!

You accepted it as reality when a week passed and nothing changed. You figured that you were reliving your life due to regrets. Or maybe a lot of people had regrets so everyone is reliving their lives right now. Yet you were the only one who seemed to have remembered anything about Hunters and Gates. Well, the moment you realized that, you shut up and said it was all a dream to anyone you asked, a child’s fantasy is wild after all, so none was the wiser. 

First things first, though, you had to avoid being in the same high school as Jinwoo. Easy enough as you had another school that was much closer to your apartment now. It was so easy for you to change your future since you were the only one that know what would happen. Cha Hae-In is Jinwoo’s fated lover, so at some point, they’d meet each other and fall in love. No surprise, but you want to be away from that drama.

“Dear! Can you get the door for me?” Your mother’s shout brought you out of your musical trance.

“Yes, mom!” You placed your violin down and hopped onto the couch. Your footsteps pitter-patter through the floor. You reached the door and opened it, knowing the metal fence as the outer door was closed to protect you in case of an attempt at breaking and entering. “Who is it—?!”

The bright red hair and the matching red eyes, you recognize them anywhere. The boy in front of his parents smiled with his head bowed to give his greetings. “Hello! I’m Choi Jong-In, your new neighbour. I’ll be studying at XXXX Middle School if you want,” His closed-eyes smile softened as his eyelids opened again to meet your shocked gaze. “We can walk to school together.”

Words seemed to have been sucked out of your mouth as you stared at the boy. Your parents had come to the door and welcomed the boy inside while you were still in a daze. In the past, you had never met Jong-In this early; you met him when you two were in college and Jinwoo in high school. Perhaps because you avoided meeting Jinwoo, now you met Jong-In. Well, you can’t complain. It was a good change.

“What a coincidence! We go to the same school.” You smiled back and introduced yourself. He repeated your name, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. And so started your friendship with your former best friend from your past life.

.

. 

.

As time passed, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years. There were no such things as Gates or Hunters or even mana. Everything was just perfectly normal, just as you pleased. You momentarily looked up from your phone at the cluster of people before you stared up into the sky. Your eyes widened as you caught sight of what appeared to be a Gate in the sky. Even after a few moments, nothing happened, and no Hunters were awakened. You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

You passed by an ice cream shop and wondered if you should grab a cup of ice cream while waiting for your friends. Your attention was taken away when your phone buzzed and you looked down once more to see what the notification was about. Ah, your friend’s here.

You walked away from the shop and entered the crowd, entirely missing the boy who rushed out of his seat from the window table and tried to catch you. You heard your name being called out, and you went in that direction, finding the redhead waving his hands in your direction. You chuckled and went over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey to you too, let’s get out of here. It’s so crowded.” Jong-In placed his arm around your shoulders and led you away from the crowd. 

When you look back up at the sky, nothing happens, and the crowd starts to disperse. As you and Jong-In chatted up a storm, ignoring the chatter around you two, you also didn’t notice how the boy had stared at you longingly with guilt and envy in his eyes while the shadows around him twisted and swirled, reflecting his conflicting emotions. 

.

.

.

“Have you heard? That running star, Sung Jinwoo, is going to this college too!”

“I heard! I also heard he’s still single too!”

“You think I got a chance with him?”

“No way. I heard he’s a heartbreaker! Even Cha Hae-In’s no match for him.”

“Aw… That’s crazy.”

You stood up and moved to another seating area with a deadpan emotion. After finding a good seat, you sat down and returned to whatever you were doing on your phone. Up until now, you had been able to predict what happened since that was the point in time that Jinwoo went to become a Hunter. Basically, since high school, you were on your own. You managed just fine because the moment you weren’t in the same school as Jinwoo, it was the same as you never having to meet each other. Even better as it saved you from heartache and unnecessary emotions.

Still. You were beyond confused as to why Jinwoo wasn’t together with Cha Hae-In when they were so lovey-dovey in your previous life. There’s no way you heard it right. Gossip is just that, gossip. It’s never true, and even if some parts are, the majority of them are twisted to match whatever the listener and speaker want to hear or know. 

The students in the lecture hall suddenly squealed as they all whispered about the newest student who came in. You glanced up and huffed with a smirk, watching with a teasing look at Jong-In, who was called by men and ladies alike. He was popular, after all. He came to your seat and gave you that gentlemanly smile, “Come on, you free to go now?”

“Geez, not sure. I feel like sitting a bit longer.” You taunted shamelessly.

You watched as his eye twitched and his smile widened dangerously. “Don’t be such a tease. You know we’ll be late for lunch.”

“Lunch is a whole few hours long; we can afford to be late for a few… say… 30 minutes or so?”

At your words, Jong-In immediately started packing your belongings for you, strapping your bag over his shoulders, then pulling you out of your seat and dragging you out of the hall. People all cooed in your direction, some even whistled. 

You let him do so until you two were in a more secluded hallway when you spoke up. “You know I was just teasing. Who told you to be so popular?”

“And here I thought having you around me would ward off people…” Jong-In sighed, finally letting you go of your hand. “Sorry for being rough.”

“It’s no big deal.” You shrugged and took back your bag. “So, the confessions are still sky high?”

“Not sky high, but still a number of them.” Jong-In fixed his glasses, raking his hair with his fingers, “Seriously, I just want to focus on my studies and get started on my work!”

You and Jong-In have been close and the best of friends, in the past and current life. In both lives, he was basically married to work, or study at the moment. Jong-In had no want for romance, and you avoided the whole romance thing, so both of you came to the agreement of being a fake couple to ward off other people. Since you two were close enough to do what couples do without feeling romantically attracted to the other, well, nothing like kissing but hand-holding and hugging was acceptable.

Jong-In looked over to you, who was still very much unaffected and chill about everything. The winds seemed to pick up when his words escaped his lips. “What will you do if Sung Jinwoo finds you when I’m not around?”

Your eyes darted to his before you blinked and looked out the window, “I doubt it. Let’s just say I have a strong feeling that he’s making a mistake if he does come to me.” You smiled at Jong-In while your eyes seemed devoid of light. “I’ll just direct him to the right one.” You blinked and, like a switch, returned to normal. “Why the sudden question?”

A finger of his pointed behind you, “Because he’s coming in this direction and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Note: First part out! This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while, sorry it took so long. As you could tell, I had other stories and stuff to do. But it's out! Thoughts, everyone?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

[97keanu]

୨୧ request ୨୧ daddy dom jw! reader in a collar and leash! size kink!

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚...

CW/Tags: smut, pet play, leash and collar, s&m dynamics, age gap, p in v, oral f/m receiving, trust dynamics, john is a VERY good dom <3, inexperienced!reader (to bdsm), commanding and authoritive john, use of daddy/puppy/good girl etc, SIZE KINK, John is a firm but caring dom, filthy smut, john ofc does after care, emotional reader after sex, might be the dirtiest thing I’ve written tbh…

Words: 5.3k

The steady rhythm of John Wick's footsteps on his morning walk always woke you up before your alarm. Like clockwork, he'd pass your house at 6:15 a.m., his black-on-black attire and leash in hand as his dog trotted obediently beside him. It was routine. Comforting. A reminder that the man next door wasn’t your typical middle aged dad-type—he didn’t care to invite you to the latest neighborhood cookout, or wave enthusiastically as he mowed his lawn on Sunday mornings. No, he was painfully, infuriatingly disciplined, in all he did.

At first, you only noticed him in passing. The quiet but polite neighbor who always nodded in acknowledgment, even when your conversations were limited to small talk at the mailbox. But something about John lingered: his presence, his patience, the way he seemed to see through people without saying a word. That quiet power drew you in before you even realized it, pulling you closer until your innocent hellos morphed into stolen glances—and eventually, something far less innocent.

Now, as you stood in his kitchen, sipping coffee while the leash you’d asked for sat coiled neatly on the counter, your heart raced in a way you hadn’t felt in years. John leaned against the doorframe, his gaze as steady as ever, though the hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You keep staring at that like you're second-guessing yourself," he said, voice low and deliberate. "Changed your mind?"

You shook your head, fingers brushing the leather. "Not exactly. Just... getting used to the idea."

"Good," he replied, stepping closer.

His shadow felt larger than life as he closed the space between you, the width of his chest splayed out over a black shirt, the cotton holding him close.

"Because I don’t do halfway. If this is what you want, you’ll give me everything. Understand?”

Your eyes don't know where to go, your legs shift, thighs squeezing nervously with a rush of fear and excitement. You've had fantasies about something like this sure, but you never really thought…

“Eyes up here, puppy…” his voice isn't asking for attention, it's commanding, authority ripe in his deep voice.

Your obedience was what drew him in. The way you looked up when told, eyes big and full of nothing less than the want to please, even the highest of demands.

“If you want to back out, simply shake your head no.” His eyes watched yours, letting silence fill the kitchen without any hint of awkwardness.

He waits, letting you decide for yourself before continuing. Your head remains glued in place, worried even the slightest of flinches may give away any second doubts, something that John may see and deem a reason to stop right here and now. Your eyes search his dark ones, and you watch his lips part once more, a deep breath inhaled there.

“Or, you can put on your collar like a good girl and we can get started.”

Each word makes your heart thump in your ears, excitement rushing into every cell of your body. Your fingers twitch, and your eyes flashback over to that tempting leather that calls to you. Somehow, you know if you go through with this, you will never really be the same, never able to go back to how you were, placating frat boys at your college and having mediocre sex with boys who never even cared if you enjoyed a second of it. No, if you do this, you’ll crave it for the rest of your life.

Your fingers lift, grazing across the dark marble counter until they reach smooth, black leather. A collar just for you, perfect for your pretty little neck, custom made with the finest materials John could find for you. Your mouth parts, and a shaky, but excited breath leaves you as you bring the collar up to your neck.

“That’s a my girl…” John sets his coffee on the counter, walking behind you and brushing your hair to the side.

You feel his large, warm hands touch the nape of your neck, electricity passing between the two of you, unspoken tension building between your legs as he finishes the buckle back there. He tightens it just enough to be snug, but no more. He lets your hair drop once more, then lets his hands encapsulate your shoulders, their firm roughness bringing heat to your skin.

“Let’s begin.”

꩜ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ✩ ୨୧˚

John had guided you—no, commanded you—into the living room, his hand firm but not forceful at the base of your neck as you followed his lead. The leash connected to your collar trailed in his other hand, the soft clink of the chain with each step grounding you. Your skin prickles, hyper aware of every move he makes, a wolf circling its prey before going in for the kill.

“Good,” he murmured, the single word full of approval as he turned you to face him, your heart blooming at the idea of pleasing him. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, roamed over you with an intensity that made your knees weak. “You’re already learning.”

You tried to swallow the knot in your throat, but his presence made it impossible. John Wick wasn’t the kind of man to rush anything—he took his time, measured and deliberate, savoring every reaction you gave him.

“Sit,” he instructed, gesturing to the plush ottoman in the center of the room. His voice was calm, as if you’d done this a hundred times before, and the weight of it settled over you like a blanket.

When you hesitated, his lips curved into a faint smile—not playful, but knowing. “Second-guessing yourself again?”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to displease or seem childish in front of him, sitting as instructed. The moment you obeyed, his long fingers hooked under your chin, his large hand tilting your face upward so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. Those dark eyes pierce right into the very depths of your being as his soft lips move.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between you feel electric. “Now, let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

John continues circling you slowly, his footsteps deliberate, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. You felt his presence like a heavy shadow, his gaze burning into you even when he wasn’t directly in front of you.

“Do you know why I like this?” he asked, his voice calm, almost conversational.

The question makes you pause.

You hadn't considered it. You were used to men using you for your body, for their own pleasure, disregarding yours entirely. You figured it was any mans dream to have a sweet, supple young woman such as yourself, collared and begging to please their every whim. You briefly open your soft, glossy lips to reflect.

John stops behind you, his hand brushing lightly against the leash before pulling it taut—not enough to restrict, just enough to remind you it was there.

You shook your head, words failing you under the weight of his scrutiny.

“It’s not just the control,” he continued, his voice low, steady, and far too composed. “It’s the trust. The way you give yourself over to me without hesitation.”

His fingers trailed along your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It means you believe I’ll take care of you... even when I push you.”

You inhaled sharply, the meaning in his words sinking in.

“But trust,” he said, moving to stand in front of you again, “isn’t just given. It’s earned. And right now, you’re going to show me exactly how much you trust me.”

He crouched slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his sleek suit pants tight against his thighs, his expression unreadable yet entirely commanding. His hand tilted your chin up again, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw.

“Speak,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Do you trust me?”

You breathe, looking at the man before you, at his imposing presence and how easy it would be for him to take advantage of you at any moment. How you could just be another silly, young girl he's lured into his trap.

But your mouth says otherwise.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible, but it was enough to make his lips curl into that faint, knowing smile again.

“Good,” he said, his approval like a reward in itself. “Then you’ll listen. You’ll follow. You’ll let me guide you.”

He tugged gently on the leash, urging you to stand. The movement was unhurried, meticulous, as if he wanted you to feel every second of his control.

As you rose to your feet, his free hand pressed against the small of your back, steadying you. The simple act sent a jolt of awareness through your body, reminding you that while he held all the power in this moment, it wasn’t about domination—it was about connection. About trust.

“You’re doing well,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the leather of your collar before settling back on the leash. “But we’re just getting started.”

His hands gently leave you, and he steps away once more, eyes flickering across every inch of your body, taking you in.

“Strip.” he commands, his voice unyielding in authority.

You hesitate. You had never felt so subconscious of yourself as you did in this moment. It's not like you hadn't been seen naked before, but that was always hurried, dark dorm rooms and drunken kisses taking up most of your awareness. You had never been inspected the way John's dark eyes were watching you now.

His eyebrow flicks up for a moment, and you hesitate no longer, hands going up under your short black mini skirt to begin pulling down your stockings, the way you usually get undressed at home, without much care for the act.

John's hand gives the leash a tug as he speaks.

“Slower. Start at the top.”

You freeze, your mind overwhelmed by the scrutiny, but your need to please take over.

You straighten, eyes flicking from John to the floor and back again over and over as you slowly begin to unbutton your pale pink blouse. You think about it, taking a breath and releasing it slowly to calm yourself from all the attention, hands steadying and making sure to be intentional, calculated in their strokes.

You had never had to be sexy in front of someone like this, a worry forming in your brow and your excessive fluttering lashes as you wonder if you're accomplishing the job. John's eyes give nothing away, his gaze steady, as if testing just exactly how you will react to such stimuli.

You shrug your shoulders as your blouse begins to gently glide off, falling down to your elbows and exposing your pretty pink bra beneath, complete with lace and bows. You wonder if you seem too inexperienced, too girlish, a waif who knows nothing of this dominant world that John is so clearly a part of.

As your first article of clothing falls to the floor, John gives the slightest of approving nods, and nothing more, eyes hungry to see just what else you will do.

Your hands reach behind your back to unbutton your bra, but you see John give a shake of his head, and your hands fall anxiously onto your thighs.

Right, right. Slow. Sexy. Deliberate.

You instead do something bold. Turning around, one step after another, a click of a heel then the other. Your manicured hands come under the waistband of your cream mini skirt, slowly but surely shimming the soft fabric down. You feel the bare parts of your ass tingle against the chill of the room, matching lacy panties snug against your skin, white stockings sheer in the light.

You can't see his face, and for a moment you wonder if you've killed the mood entirely until you hear him release a breath.

“Good.”

This one's softer than the others.

Your skirt pools at your ankles, and you slowly step one foot out, the other kicking the fabric away.

You take a moment, your back still to him, and you let your eyes close as you compose the butterflies fluttering deep in your stomach.

Your hands reach once more behind you, your bra seemingly the next logical clothing item to go.

You didn't realize John had come so close behind you, a frightened gasp slipping from your pink, pouty lips as his hands circle around both your wrists.

“Let me savor you.” His voice drips with want, his nose and mouth pressed against the back of your head, taking your scent in.

As he breathes you in, you feel your body press into his, his warmth, his tight suit, his hard cock pressed against your ass.

A moan escapes you as his hands come to your waist, touching the exposed skin of your midriff, goosebumps left in the wake of his lingering fingertips.

“John…” You breath out, and you feel a hand take the leather of your leash once more, a firm tug to let you know your place.

“You may call me master, sir, whatever signature of authority you choose, but never John.” He whispers it into your ear, his breath tickling you and his serious tone sending shivers all the way down your spine.

You mull this over, your lips curling into a smile as you finally land on the right one.

“Daddy…” you breathe out, a bit nervous to use it out loud for the first time, but knowing you’ve been thinking it ever since you laid eyes on John.

John chuckles in your hair softly, and you can feel his lips smile against you.

“Daddy it is…” he softly agrees, then pauses before letting out a long breath.

His heat moves away from your back, his hand moving around your neck gently as he comes to face you from the front. His eyes search yours deeply for a moment before speaking.

John’s thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against your collarbone, the silence stretching between you like a live wire. His gaze softened, just for a moment, a rare glimpse of something gentler beneath his steady exterior.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, a quiet reassurance that sent warmth blooming in your chest. “But we’re not done yet.”

The leash in his hand shifted slightly, the chain catching the light as he gave the slightest tug. The motion drew your attention—and your body—closer to him.

“Kneel,” he said, his tone calm but leaving no room for question.

You blinked up at him, the weight of the command settling over you. His hand moved to cradle your cheek, his touch firm yet tender.

“No hesitation,” he reminded you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Show me you’re ready for this.”

The steady authority in his voice made it impossible to resist, and you sank to your knees without a second thought, the floor cold even through your stockings. As soon as you did, John let out a satisfied hum, the corner of his mouth lifting in approval.

“Perfect,” he said, tilting your chin upward again, his fingers brushing your skin like a promise. “Now, keep your eyes on me.”

Your big eyes gaze up at him, lashes fluttering with the slightest hint of confusion before reminding yourself that you need to put your trust in him. Your heart races in your throat as his size-able hands reach down to his belt, the cold sound of metal clinking against itself and leather ruffling through fabric echoes through the room as he slowly slips his belt off. You gaze in wonder for what is to come next, your mouth opening as if to ask then closing again as you remind yourself of your position here.

John wraps the belt around one arm, leaving it there. With the other he holds your leash, his dark eyes bore into yours.

“Take my cock out.” He instructs, and your immediate reaction is to flush, a heat rising in your cheeks hotter than it ever has.

You feel like a fish gasping for air on dry land as the command washes over you. You blink a few times before the tug of your collar grounds you back into reality, and you look to where you can see the massive outline of John's cock showing against his black suit pants, tight and ready to be released.

You look back up into his eyes, and without another word, your hands begin fumbling with the button and zipper, your big doe eyes searching his for that much needed approval.

“Y-yes…” You whisper, barely audible to keep yourself going, and you feel John's hand tighten its grip on your leash.

“Yes, what?” He raises an arched dark brow, his expectations in his eyes.

“Yes, Daddy…” You fumble a few times more with the zipper as the words drip from your mouth, sweet as honey.

“That’s a good girl…”

As the zipper comes to it's final resting place at the base of John's cock, you press beneath the waistband of his underwear, almost struggling to get a cock of his size out from such a cramped space.

Heat radiates from there, your hand almost refusing to wrap all the way around his shaft as it pops out in front of your face, dangling there with all its girth and surprising length.

Oh god…

You wonder how you will anything that size anywhere inside of you, and your pussy aches as you think of it filling you all the way to the brim. You feel your mouth water as you look back up at John from his cock, your eyebrows pressed together in worry and lust.

“Alright, puppy,” John sighs out, a smirk curled on his lips at your reaction. “Let’s see just how much your mouth can take…”

You gulp back fear, and look back at his cock, two hands coming up to grip it from both sides. You breathe out slow, and you consider all the other cocks you've taken before, but none have even compared to the one before you.

You bring your mouth to his tip, pressing it against the flat of your tongue, taking a few long licks and savoring his taste. Your eyes meet his, hoping desperately you're being a good girl as you move to take more and more of him into your mouth. He fills every inch, and soon enough, you've barely got half of his cock in your mouth before he's reached the back of your throat. A slight sense of panic starts to wash over you as you consider the very real possibility that you won't be able to get all the way to the base of his cock, and you squirm as you try to readjust in a way that might.

“Take your time,” John whispers while letting a hand come to rest on the back of your head, his fingers gently petting your hair there. You can't help but moan into his cock, the feeling of being treated as such making you wetter by the minute.

You work his shaft with your hands, trying your best to get him down the back of your throat over and over as you begin to pick up speed. You notice that certain things you're doing right now illicit a moan from John, like swirling your tongue or twisting your hands just right, and you almost whimper into his cock as you realize what a good girl you're being.

“That’s right puppy, take as much as you can…” John's hand begins to apply pressure to the back of your head, slowly but surely forcing you deeper and deeper onto his cock until you're practically choking on it.

Your whimpers get cut off by his huge cock filling up your throat, and your toes curl beneath you as your knees begin to scream against the hardwood floors. You squeeze your eyes closed tight, trying your hardest to not let any discomfort come between you and being a good puppy.

Your nose begins to hit against his lower stomach, your mouth filled with spit that has no where to go, your pretty little throat tight around his cock. John’s hips buck into your mouth, controlled thrusts forcing himself deeper until you don't think you can take anymore, until the breath in your lungs swells up from being cut off so often, and your moans are silenced by John’s hand working your head into his cock and keeping it there for way too long. You squirm, your weight shifting in your thighs and your cunt dripping with want, your eyes beginning to water and looking up at him with the most pleading, desperate look.

John grips your hair one last time and pulls the entirety of his cock out of you, your breath suddenly rushing back in, a few coughs and a trail of spit from you to him as well.

John’s breath seems to be stolen for a moment as well, his hand rubbing your head with respect and admiration for your job well done.

“God…” He catches his breath, looking down at you with thinly veiled awe. “You’ve been such a brave girl for me, taking all that cock.”

You have no idea what you look like staring up at him from the floor, your make up beginning to slide down your cheeks from the tears that welled up, but you imagine you're beaming at him. Hearing him say that has you in a daze of euphoria, and you nod along, his hand coming from your head to cup your face softly.

“Does a good pet like you deserve a treat?” He smiles gently as you nod into his hand, your eyes closing from working so hard.

He leans down and gently lifts you from the floor, picking you up effortlessly, as if your weight meant nothing to him. You watch his strong arms tense under his shirt, and you practically swoon.

He takes you over to a nearby chair, laying you in it softly and beginning to kneel now himself, positioned between your legs. You look down at him, lids half closed and still out of it from the throat fucking you just took, watching as his hands take in your legs, rubbing all the way up to between your thighs and grabbing your stockings there.

Before you can question just what he's doing, John’s strong hands grip the white see through material there and tear, a startling rip making you jump for a moment and hold your breath. Before you can react to John ruining your pair of stockings, he slides your pretty pink panties to the side to expose your glistening cunt, and your legs tremble for a moment, considering closing in embarrassment before his hands firmly open you back up.

“Don’t you dare try to hide such a pretty pussy from me ever again.” He looks up at you with hunger and adoration. “Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy…” You nod eagerly, body tense with want and waiting for what comes next.

He watches you for a moment, making sure you really understand, before diving in.

You gasp as his mouth refuses to hesitate, refuses to let you acclimate to the warmth of this tongue and the softness of his lips. Instead, he devours you, sucking on your clit until it stands to attention, aching and wanting more. He laps at your juicy cunt with relish, savoring how good you taste on his tongue, his fast and short breaths tickling every part of you down there. Your hands clutch the arms of the leather chair, your legs up over his shoulders and your heels clacking behind his head as he bobs up and down on your pussy, licking every inch of you he can.

“Fuck,” You moan out as you feel yourself shaking at his every touch, your heart beating out of your chest.

With the hand that’s not keeping your panties out of the way, he lets two fingers soak up your wetness before slowly making their way inside of you. He refocuses his mouth on your clit, his fingers twisting and testing just how well you adjust. You cry out, trying not to curse so much but you can’t help yourself. It’s as if your body has been possessed with lust and ignited by John Wick’s tongue.

”Oh god, John, I think I’m going to cum!” You feel that familiar tightness in your lower stomach begin to build, your thighs tensing and attempting to close in on John’s head.

“You better not, puppy!” John pulls off of your clit, mouth soaked and shiny from your wetness, his hands moving to opening you nice and wide as well as giving your collar a firm tug to bring you off of the edge.

You practically yelp from the sudden difference, your chest heaving, your eyes unfocused and confused from being stolen away from such a beautiful wave of pleasure.

“Not until I get my thick cock inside that tight cunt of yours.” John warns, moving to line his throbbing cock up with your entrance.

You gulp back fear as he taps his cock against your cunt, the heaviness of it bouncing off of you as you shudder.

“Now, are you going to be a good puppy who waits to cum until Daddy tells her too?” His tone makes you remember your place in all of this, makes you remember that you have no say in when you derive your pleasure.

All you can do is nod, wide doe eyes looking from his to his cock with wanton want.

“I need to hear you say it.” He growls as he rubs himself against you, his length evident as he does so and beginning to make your stomach squirm in worry.

“Y-yes…” You breathe out, forgetting the rules as you focus on just how much cock you will soon be taking.

“Yes, what?” John growls as he lets the tip of his cock play with the idea of entering you.

“Yes,” You take a deep breath, bracing for what he’s about to do. “Daddy…”

John’s hips snap back, the forward, slamming the entirety of his cock into you in one swift blow. You have never felt such a rush of pleasure and pain at the same time, a guttural cry escaping your mouth and your hands leaving marks in his expensive leather chair.

“Oh, John…” You cry out as he thrusts into you, his want taking over, his need beginning to spiral out of control.

“What was that?” He mocks the use of his real name with harder thrusts, his breath coming quicker and heavier as the seconds pass.

“D-ad-dy-“ You moan out, the word cut off by each powerful thrust, the movement taking over the whole of your body.

“That’s it darling,” He closes his eyes, getting lost in just how tight you feel around his cock, just how warm it is inside you. “Touch yourself like a good girl, now.”

You do as he instructs, the feeling of your fingers circling your throbbing clit taking away some of the edge of the pain of his massive cock, and you bite into your lip to try to stop from cumming right then and there.

You have to be a good girl for him, you have to do what Daddy says and wait for him to tell you to cum.

You never thought you would see John lose such control, lose himself inside of you and let go of such rigid mannerisms. His long hair falls into his face, a slight gleam of sweat building up on his shoulders as he puts all he can into fucking the absolute shit out of you, using up every inch of you he can, pressing himself so deep inside you, you don’t think you’ll ever be the same again.

You play with your clit intermittently, having to stop now and then to keep yourself from falling over the edge and cumming right then and there. It’s pure torture, you can barely keep up with it all.

John’s muscles tighten, and you can see he’s getting closer. You hear soft moans coming from him, held back by only the slightest bit of control he has left. As his cock swells inside you, the raw feeling of him sliding in and out overwhelms your senses. You feel as if you’ve never been this full before, never been fucked as deep as you have now, and you know that nothing else will compare ever again. Your moans become incoherent, hands gripping for anything they can get a hold of, legs wrapped around John’s waist as he pulls himself in deeper, deeper, deeper…

”Please Daddy…” You whisper out, barely able to form the words. “Can I please cum?”

John groans, his teeth gritting, and nods.

“Yes, babygirl…” He huffs.

You take no time waiting, your fingers dashing around your clit in mad circles as he continues filling you up over and over again, hitting just the right spots inside you effortlessly. You feel yourself tense more than ever, your legs clamping down around his waist, your pussy tighter than ever around his thick cock. John lets the last bit of control he has go as your cum around his cock, your cunt fluttering and throbbing, leaving him no choice but to spill the biggest load of cum inside you you’ve ever had. He moans out, unable to keep himself from doing as such, his breaths shaky and his hips rocking out the last few bits of pleasure that they can. You ride his wave, bucking with him and taking everything you can like the good puppy you are. John practically collapses into you, the arms of the chair keeping his full weight from weighing down on you.

He leaves his cock inside you, letting it throb out any final bits of cum for the moment, his face close to yours, your breath intertwining with his. Both of your eyes are closed, but his mouth finds yours with ease, those soft lips of his tiredly taking soft kisses and whimpers from you.

Finally, when he has the strength, John Wick stands, slowly pulling out of you, his hot cum leaking out of your abused hole. He pushes his mess of long, dark locks out of his face, then looks down at you with half open eyes, before leaning down to scoop you up. He takes you to a larger couch, where you can both sprawl out more, collapsing into it with you in his arms.

He says nothing for a moment, the sounds of his breath and heartbeat beneath your cheek as you try to catch your own, completely out of it by now.

You feel his big hand begin petting your sweaty hair, stroking it with softest, most admiring touches. Your ears ring as you come down from it all, and eventually you make a sound that isn’t his heart or his breath.

“You did such a good job…” He breathes out in tired, half mumbles. ”I’m so proud of you…”

Your heart swells, and the exhilaration and emotion gets to you, tears welling up in your eyes. You dip your head into the crook of his chest and arm, hiding your face as to not embarrass yourself from crying after sex.

“Oh, come here, darling.” John purrs, pulling you closer, gently rubbing your back as you let it all out.

“You’re safe,” He whispers to you. “I got you, you’re safe right here, baby.”

He purrs sweet compliments and assures your safety over and over, gently kissing the top of your head. You let the emotions come and pass into pure bliss, and eventually, to the sound of his soft cooing words, you fall asleep in John Wick’s arms.

[kkuzushi]

May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)

Also can I be 🐀anon

“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”

✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader

✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding

✦ word count: 2.549k

✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3

You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.

In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.

“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

"Attagirl..."

A/N: Idk Platonic Yandere Dick Grayson who is very creepy is my favorite Dick Grayson. He's so cute but so extra and I had this idea in my head for a while now so why not write this out.

Warnings: Yandere/toxic family themes, blurred boundaries and family lines, batsis is an adult early to mid twenties, no blood family connections, not nsfw

masterlist

requests: always open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body went stiff and your eyes opened wide as you felt something snake around your waist. Every alarm set off in your head as a chilling breeze of fear rushed over your body. Anyone looking in from the outside would say that you were mimicking a deer in headlights. If only you had its ears and a tail, they'd be standing up straight, just like your hairs currently were.

The person locking you in between their arms let out a small chuckle, amused about your reaction to being touched so unexpectedly. You could feel a warm huff hit the back of your neck, trailed by a few soft pecks, causing a shiver of goosebumps to cascade down your body.

"You can relax, sis. It's just me."

Somehow those words had the opposite effect of relaxation on you...

Dick never failed to outdo himself in just how uncomfortable he could make you. Though, you weren't entirely sure, it seemed to be almost like a game to him at this point. The amount of times he's completely caught you off-guard, alone, and vulnerable is far too many to just be coincidences. Even someone who is as charmed as Dick couldn't get as lucky as he "just" appears to...You had to wonder sometimes if he was really a calculated asshole whose life goal was to make you feel violated with every interaction he had with you. Like did he find joy in this? You always made it abundantly clear that you hated being around him and avoided him at every turn. Maybe all of this is his less than subtle way at payback for never giving him attention...?

Though, a part of you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he really is just this clueless.

Your brother being an oblivious Malibu Ken doll with no sense of familial boundaries.... possible...but...yikes. Well, at times it did seem as though Dick was boarding being an absolute idiot. Seriously at times you swore there was nothing happening behind his painfully blue eyes and pearly white smile. Maybe he did earnestly think his intentions were both normal and pure.. Maybe he just really wants to be close with his sister. Maybe.... you are the real asshole for being so avoidant all of the time.

You barely were able to finish your train of thought before the arms around you became tighter and more restricting. While slimmer than maybe his father, Dick's frame was still large enough to easily make you feel small...and rather claustrophobic when he engulfed you like this. Without much effort, he pulled you in closer, so your back was now pressed up against his hard torso. He was still in his suit and fully geared as you could feel his holstered weapons dig itself into your lower back. It acted as a silently lethal threat, a reminder that you weren't allowed to escape this, despite your discomfort.

"mmm..you smell so good~"

Dick obnoxiously nuzzled the sides of your face, eventually burying his nose into the crook of your neck,,,if you weren't so anxious you might've giggled by the tickling sensation of him sniffing your skin.

The irony of how while he loved yours, you hated the nauseating scent emanating off of his body. He always had the same smell when he was fresh off of patrol. It was an unholy mixture of metals, sweat, gunpowder and his awful "luxury" cologne that created this weird musk.... Being so close and personal like this only made it worse as it flooded your airways, you could nearly suffocate over it.

The reactive jerk of your body to get away from the smell caught his attention...

"Oh, I know you're probably so grumpy with me right now. But.. i couldn't help myself when I came in and saw you standing here..."

You could feel a weight be rested on your right shoulder as he put his head there. Dick moved it slightly to look up at you, a smile plated across his face..and you couldn't see it but the dilation of his eyes made him appear deranged,,,it was a common look he had whenever his eyes would settle on you and it made it hard to retain any sort of eye contact. It's the kind of look that you'd assume Harley gives to Joker whenever she sees him...full of love, passion, obsession, and mania.

"I just love you so much...you're so perfect."

Your body recoiled in disgust at the rather...weird...way he decided to say those words...

"You never let me hug you...Or ever spend time with you but doesn't this just feel so nice? Doesn't being close like this just make you want this all the time, babybat?"

You internally scoffed. Being held without your consent wasn't nice. Nor were you amused by the near taunting tone he spoke with that last part...babybat.. you couldn't stand that term of endearment he'd use on you. You were nearly his age, only a few years behind but he insists on calling you that. Despite the countless times you've told him to stop using weird nicknames, he rarely refers to you by your real name.

"I hate being away from you, my birdie...I hate not being able to do this often with you."

"my birdie" even worse.

"Sweet, but I'm tired so if you could please let me be on my way-" You tried squirming and breaking out of his hold but he just made the hug all the more suffocating.

"No. I need this...let me have this moment with you..."

Dick's hands began to slowly rub your sides in his attempt at being soothing.

You wanted nothing more than to burn your skin and claw his eyes out, right now. You didn't understand what made you so special to him when he had tons of siblings constantly giving him his much "needed" attention. There was no way that he could be so touched starved that all of this was necessary.

His constant hunger for your presence made you uneasy from the day you were welcomed into the family. Normal brothers don't do this....they call you names and ignore you...why couldn't he just be normal??

You weren't some neglected little kid who needed extra love and affection. You were an adult, his peer, who wanted to be left alone. If Bruce wasn't allowing you to live rent and amenities free in his mansion, you would've packed up and moved away by now.

"Hmm, my birdie...y'know after I take a shower...we could get snacks, put on your favorite movie....maybe even continue cuddling...?"

Is that what this was to him? Cuddling? You rolled your eyes at the thought.

"Dick I'm really tired."

"-please..please I really want this. We don't even have to talk. you can fall asleep on me during the movie...I just want more of this.."

"uhm..I don't really think that I want to."

"I'll leave you alone after this. I promise that. I'll be good. Just do this for me this one time..I had a long day and I miss you, sis."

He was whining, pouting and quite frankly...impossible. A long sigh of frustrated defeat escaped out of you and you attempted to relax your shoulders the best you could. You weren't particularly in the mood to fight with him, it was late in the night so something had to give...and it was going to have to be you. Tonight wasn't your night and all you could do now was just ride it out. Dick was a force to be reckoned with and while living under the same roof, there was no avoiding it. If you did get out of this tonight, another day would just be the same story anyway.

A part of you hoped that he'd keep his word and actually leave you alone after this. But only a dreamer can dream.

"...okay, you win. But just one movie."

His once tight hold on you loosened and he swiftly made his way in front of you. For a moment he stared at you with his crazed eyes. But that for once, it wasn't his eyes that made you uneasy, it was that devious grin he wore. It almost made you feel sick seeing just how smug he was after getting his way... It answered your question from earlier. This was all a game for him..he liked doing this to you. He's a calculated asshole who wanted to make your life a living hell for all the times you've blown him off and knocked down his attempts to be close to you. ...It made you feel dumb for giving in...you didn't know what he had in store for tonight with a look like that. One of his hands came up to your cheek and gently caressed it before cupping your face with a firm squeeze. Dick didn't use much force as he pulled your squished, cupped face closer and planted a wet kiss on your cheek.

"Attagirl.."

[the-superoriginal]

It's a tic

A/N: Maked Bucky a neighbour, because I thought it would just make the most sense and sprinkled a tiny bit of Angst in it. I really hope you like it through, dear Anon!

Request: Hey....... Do you think you can write a Bucky Barnes x reader, with the reader having tics or a tic disorder like tourettes? Preferably motor tics, like jerking of the head or winking the eyes, but it's your pick of course. I've got a lot of painful tics like those but I can't never find any accurate fics.... Everyone seems to think tourettes is just swearing all the time without meaning too, but it's really not just that.......

English is not my native language!

You were friends with your neighbour Bucky Barnes since a while. To be more accurate, since he moved into the apartment opposite the one you lived in. You weren't even sure anymore how this friendship happened, but it did. The only thing? You hadn't had a tic in front of him yet which actually was quite surprising considering how often you had spend time together. And you hadn't had the courage to tell him about it. Or, well, it actually wasn't about courage but rather the fear that it might change his view of you. What if that was too much for him?

Nonethelessly you knocked on his door after coming from school, your backpack still strapped to your shoulders. "Bucky? It's me.", you called a moment afterwards, just in case. The man had dissappeared the last three days to God knows where. So you weren't totally sure if he was even there.

Your head jerked a bit.

Just a few seconds afterwards his door opened through and you smiled nearly automatically. "Hi, Bucky." His short brown hair was slightly disheveled and the skin around his left eye was slightly darker, you noticed afterwards. He got into a fight.

"Hey.", he opened the door more so you could come in, a small smile making it's way on his face too. The super soldier smiled nearly all the time when you two saw each other the first time the day. According to Sam - who you had meet roughly a week ago - that was a change to his usual 'grumpy staring'. You had no idea if Bucky really was like that when he wasn't around you, but that wasn't your business anyways, right? You took his silent invitation and walked in, setting your backpack to the side. "What happened to your face?"

Bucky closed the door, mentally cursing that you had to ask that. Even if he understood why and amusement glinted in his eyes. "You are too young for that story."

Your mouth falled open, the protest already sitting on the tip of your tongue. But the adult just gave you a amused look that said you should just let it be and you only mumbled a quiet, "I am not..."

Bucky shook his head faintly with a smirk before walking past you and towards his kitchen. "Juice?"

You let yourself fall onto his couch, slipping your shoes off with a quiet, relieved sigh and closed your eyes. "Yes, please." That was better. You were sure you would get blister if you would have needed to walk just one step further.

Your head jerked again.

"You okay?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, heart thumping harder in your ribcage in anxiety and shock. What should you do now? Tell him? Lie?

"Eh... Yes.", you swallowed, mentally reminding yourself that this was Bucky. You could tell him. There wouldn't be a better opportunity than now, right? And he wouldn't just kick you out, correct? "It's... It's just a tic. A motor tic disorder... thing, that I have.", you then got out.

Bucky processed the words, you could see it, then he smiled lightly. It was reassuring and gentle and it soothed a lot of your anxiety and tension. The adult sat down beside you, handing you the glass of juice. "So, what exactly are your tics? Only the jerking of the head?"

[itsa-me-lily]

So here's y'alls first fight! Aren't you excited? Also I get to introduce y'all to one of my favorite girls.

Here is the Simon x Thimble playlist

Here is the MPS AU masterlist

Reminder, reader is fat. It's not a morally right or wrong thing, she's just fat.

Content warning;

Swearing, some weight stuff, Goggles

You woke up in bed, which typically wasn't a strange thing to do. But you hadn't gone to sleep in bed this time though. You'd crashed out on the couch after trying to read a book your mother had recommended, it was always obvious that the two of you had very different tastes in literature. So the fact that you had fallen asleep on the couch, but woke up in bed, was perplexing. Hopefully you weren't developing a habit of sleep walking. Sleep arguing was bad enough.

Padding out to the living room, you were prepared to look for clues to your mystery. Only you found Simon. On the couch. Reading the book that had put you to sleep. And judging by how much further into the book he had made it, he was enjoying it more than you had. He didn't even notice your presence until you were right in front of him. You even had to clear your throat for him to peer at you from over the pages.

"Was I still on the couch when you got home?"

"Yeah."

Ever the well of conversation your husband was.

"Did I sleep walk?"

"Negative."

Well that was not an answer you were expecting.

"Then how did I go from..."

You motioned between the couch and the bedroom door, as if the space was vast and truly impossible to have crossed other wise.

"Carried you."

"What?"

You didn't mean to sound flat in your question, but the idea that you had been carried around, regardless of if you were awake or not, wasn't one you liked. Not that Simon seemed to understand that, given how he raised a single eyebrow at how unenthused you sounded.

"That a problem?"

How could you answer this in a way that wasn't going to cause an issue. Because you could see this becoming an issue that would be annoying to have to deal with. Unfortunately the longer it took you to answer, the more likely it would be.

"No? Just wake me up next time."

Simon didn't seem satisfied with the answer given how he closed the book with a snap, giving you his undivided attention.

"You'd rather I wake you up."

You think he meant it as a question, even if he didn't say it that way.

"Yeah. Don't pick me up."

You could feel that curl of anxiety start in your gut, and it only got worse as Simon got up, his height causing you to have to crane your head back to look up at him.

"You hate getting woken up."

"Yeah well I don't like being picked up more."

"How come?"

Was this man serious? Was he honestly going to question you about why you didn't like something? Really you wanted to argue, tell him that it was none of his business and that you had made your request clear. But you remembered your mother's words that she had dispensed the last time you had complained to her about Simon, and his...lack of sharing at times. 'You don't get what you don't give'. Maybe you should stop complaining to your mother. Still, wouldn't hurt right? So with a sigh you just shrugged, meeting Simon's eyes once before looking aside.

"I'm heavy."

You had accepted what your body looked like ages ago. Understood that there were more important things than fitting into a certain size. Didn't mean you weren't aware of your body, the space you took up. You knew your body, and you knew you were heavy.

Instead of asking, or elaborating, Simon Riley did probably the worst thing he could have done. He picked you up. His arms were around your waist and your feet were off the floor before you register what he was doing. The second you did though it was like every nerve ending in your body was screaming no. You did not like this. You went tense, shoulders up to your ears and volume control wasn't your first concern as you practically shouted into Simon's face.

"Put me down. Put me down right now damnit!"

Whatever reaction Simon thought he was going to get from you, that hadn't seem to be one he was expecting. He did so, though the landing was a little jarring, most likely due to the sheer suddenness of your demands. It only served to make you angrier, you could feel it shooting up your spine. You could have been gentler as you pushed yourself out of his arms, but you didn't particularly care to be at the moment.

You didn't know if it was better or worse that he didn't say anything in his defense. Actually it was probably better that he was silent because it made it easier to cuss him out as you went back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Fuck the sleeping arrangements. He could sleep on the fucking couch that night.

Simon had heard other soldiers complain when they had marital disputes. He didn't always listen in, but when he did he could typically agree that it was somehow the soldier's fault. Now that he was on the other end of it though? He didn't get it at all. He had only been trying to show you that it wasn't an issue for him to pick you up. He went to the gym, he could lift. But then you got all huffy and loud, and slammed the door in his face. You had even made him sleep on the couch.

And it wasn't like it had gotten better the next day. Apparently you had still been mad because you hadn't talked to him at breakfast, just gone through your usual routine and left without a goodbye. All he did was pick you up. It wasn't even like he dropped you or anything.

The puzzle left him feeling sour, though he couldn't really pinpoint what it was about it that made him feel such. Was it the cold shoulder you gave him? Maybe it was the fact you made him sleep on the couch. Either way he didn't like the fact that apparently you were still mad at him and it apparently was obvious to anyone given how Soap pestered him all morning about it until Simon finally spilled during PT in the weight room. It did make him feel better though, that Soap was equally as confused as to why you were so upset.

"I mean I don't get why the hen's mad, but have ye tried apologizing LT?"

"I would if I knew what I was apologizing for."

"Wow you're both fucking stupid."

The new voice caused both him and Johnny to whip around, hackles raised at being caught unaware. Some woman racked her weights, brushing her hands together before paying them attention again, expression such that seemed to beg what they were waiting for. Thankfully Soap bit the bullet before Simon could rudely do it.

"You are?"

"Goggles. Mechanical Engineer Unit."

She held her hand out for a greeting as if she hadn't just insulted the both of them. Simon only stared at it before crossing his arms over his chest, puffing himself up a little to sooth his ego. Again Soap stepped in since he was probably going to be the more civil of the two.

"What makes ye think we're stupid?"

"Oh it's not a thought." There was a brief pause afterwards, intentional, before she continued, "Anyways big guy here clearly wasn't listening to this Thimble person."

Big guy? Since when had Simon become 'big guy'. Clearly his reputation for being a hardass was suffering since his marriage to you. He was going to have to fix that. And what did she mean that he 'clearly wasn't listening'. He listened to you fine. He slept on the couch didn't he? Simon tuned back in at Soap's sputtering, confused as to why the Scotsman's cheeks were a little flushed. He clearly had missed something.

Clearing his throat, Simon got everyone's attention again and he could give Goggles a firm stare down. Not that it helped much given how nonchalant she appeared. He had a point to make.

"I listen to my wife just fine."

"Clearly not since you did the thing she didn't like, right after she told you she didn't like it."

Simon did not enjoy the tone she was using with him. In his affront it took him a second for the words to really sink in. Sure he had kind of disregarded what you had said, but it was just to show you it was okay.

"I can pick up my wife just fine."

The sigh Goggles gave him sounded like it came from the depths of her soul, and he couldn't quite get what she had mumbled under her breath, but Simon could imagine it wasn't flattering. He was just pointing out the truth.

"And that's why you're stupid."

"No I'm not."

The look Goggles gave him begged to differ. He was going to have to find out her rank and CO, he was not going to tolerate this kind of flack from someone ranked under him.

"You made it about you and your ego."

"No I didn't."

"Why'd you pick her up then."

"To show I could."

"But she didn't want you to. She told you that, and you did it anyways."

"Cause she said she was too heavy and I was proving she ain't."

"It doesn't matter. You still ignored what she said and steamrolled over the boundary she set."

That...might have caught Simon off guard. Just a little. Goggles seemed to have taken his lack of rebuttal as an acceptance of the point she was trying to make because she continued.

"Look I don't think you were trying to be an asshole but you still were. What if she ignored you when you said you didn't like something."

Simon wanted to argue that you basically always did what you wanted, his opinion be damned but...that wasn't really true was it? You didn't make a fuss about the face masks, you were always careful to not just go grabbing at him, and even if it was with dramatics, you respected his space. At least he hadn't seen you attempt to get a pin board into his home office. He couldn't really remember him ever having to tell you that he needed or wanted those things. You just...seemed to pick up on it. And when you had told him something you didn't like he ignored it. Not maliciously but...roads to hell and good intentions as they said.

It was his turn to sigh, in defeat, shoulders slumping as he accepted the fact that he had messed up. Without much fanfare he turned to leave the gym, firmly ignoring Soap's confused shouts to wait and Goggles' 'you're welcome' that floated to him. He had an apology to give.

Simon didn't know how to give an apology. Sure he had heard that the usual was chocolates and a bouquet of roses, but that was typically for someone you were in a relationship with. What did one get their technical wife but really more a roommate person as a way to say 'I'm sorry'? He could go with chocolates, but he knew that you tried not to over indulge in them since it messed with your sugar levels, and roses seemed to romantic. He stood in the card aisle at the shops looking at the wide selection without really liking any of them. They were either too sappy or too impersonal, or just stupid.

With a rising sense of frustration Simon grabbed the first apology card that had caught his eye and made his way over to the hot food section. Fuck it, you were saying you wanted a bird the other night. Chicken could be a decent apology gift.

When you got home, you weren't as angry as you had been when starting the day. Honestly you kind of felt stupid. Most girls seemed to kill to have a man that could pick them up willynilly, you were just...an outlier. When you had asked a coworker for advice she had told you you were being dramatic and that if you weren't going to appreciate Simon she would. You didn't think Simon was into the geriatric type but you had told her you'd pass along the message at least. So apparently you were a dramatic outlier that needed to apologize. Great.

It seemed that Simon had gotten home before you, and wasn't expecting you back so soon given how he froze up at the kitchen table, shoulders hunched as he had his back to you. Might as well get it over with.

"Hey Simon I-"

"Wait."

You weren't expecting Simon to interrupt you while you were trying to say I'm sorry, neither were you expecting him to turn around and step away, revealing an entire rotisserie chicken and a card.

"You got chicken?"

"As a sorry."

"A sorry?"

You looked from the chicken to Simon, who somehow looked both stoic and sheepish at the same time. It was probably how he stuffed his hands into his pockets, like he didn't know what to do with them.

"Yeah. 'm sorry. Shouldn't have ignored what you told me."

Oh. That was...unexpected. You had anticipated having to apologize and pretend like the entire situation hadn't happened. You didn't think he'd apologize first, or at all. You both stood in awkward silence as you tried to think of what to do next. Should you still apologize? Just accept it and still pretend nothing happened?

Before your brain could make a choice, your stomach did it for you, grumbling loudly as the scent of the cooked meat wafted to you. You could feel yourself flush as Simon huffed in what was probably amusement, turning to grab what you were hoping were plates. There was a chicken to eat after all.

"Thanks. And...I'm sorry too. For just yelling at you...and making you sleep on the couch."

Simon seemed to shrug off your apology, handing you two plates and sets of silverware before digging around in the freezer for some sort of steam bag to throw into the microwave.

"I've slept in worse places."

"Still we have an agreement."

"Hn."

You figured that was the end of your rivetingly awkward conversation as you worked on carving the bird into portions to eat and then store away. You didn't mind the silence as the two of you set up dinner together and started to dig in, though it did catch you off guard when Simon decided to have a different one.

"Is it okay for emergencies?"

You looked up from phone, blinking owlishly as you tried to understand what he was saying.

"Is what okay?"

"Picking you up? It's okay during emergencies ya?"

Was Simon planning on burning down your house anytime soon? Before you could question him on it though, an idea struck you. He was trying to ask what the boundary was, so he wouldn't break it again. You tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your chest.

"Yeah, it's okay for emergencies."

"Good."

You nodded, going back to your phone to wonder why the hell your friend still hadn't responded to your messages.

"And Thimble?"

Once again you looked up at Simon to see him looking back at you seriously.

"Yeah?"

"You're not too heavy."

You wanted to argue differently, but before you could he cut you off.

"Not for me at least."

You had to look away, feeling a blush climb your cheeks.

"Thanks Simon."

"Hn."

Edit;

Why wasn't Soap really talking in the gym scene? Because I imagine Goggles said something kind of out of pocket that left him reeling for a minute. She is no better than a man some days and I love her for it.

Also this isn't my favorite piece but I wanted to introduce Goggles with her calling the boys out for being dumb, because that is just so her.

As always I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to drop an ask about anything.

[the-devil-less-known]

Lucifer in turn would beloathe to admit that he was relieved at the reception, having spoken to fill the silence in an attempt to hide his nerves, questioning his selection. It was a piece he had favored, and connected with, though not as Astraea. It just reminded him of what he had done to another in the past.

Point was, it was rather personal, so the stillness leaving Alastor along with his usual remarks were encouraging, easing the tension in his shoulders. "Nah, it became common dirty habit amongst the young back then. Now imps are popular for that reason. For nobility, it's the thrill, not the person themself necessarily, though it helps. The bigger the scandal, the more it appeals."

Lucifer sets down his tumbler on the table while Alastor thought over what to request him, the warmth of the alcohol finally hitting with his relief, summoning them both a pitcher of water. Filling the glass, he takes careful sips, trying to match the piece to the name, tapping a hoof in thought. A few hums escape to different tunes before a section of the right one comes to mind, the bright dips and dreamlike swells. Da-dah, da-dah, da-dah-di-dah....

He can't help but chuckle some, "Oh, of course you pick one that would sound fantastic with a piano accompaniment. Of course, though, you will have to promise to play with me in the future. I would love to hear you play in turn, delightfully vicious mockery optional, of course. The by play can be dessert."

Tail setting down his glass, and now back to where he had been prior, Lucifer inhales, once more standing to attention. While before had been warming into playing a favorite, this was a piece he was only mostly certain to remembering from start to finish... but was enjoying the feel of it in his head, reminding him of sharing a waltz with Alastor in pacing and tone. The sweet wonder of something new and fantastical. Quick paced and eager in its delight.

Yes, he could remember it now.

His violin warbles, its sweet voice clear and lilting between his breaths and each pull of his bow, fingers teasing the strings as the notes flitted high, as free as a bird, and swooped low, lingering as any dip in a dance would. Carefree, imagining the strings of others joining him, a piano's accompanying song, in the dim lighting of the auditorium and spotlights trained on the stage —

Picking up fervor, he could almost imagine his hooves moving in time, quick stepping and following Alastor's lead, violin strings mimicking footsteps, dancing, stepping, quickly quickly, brightly, fast and fast, before slowing. Hurriedly, excited, youthful as any hot-blooded adult touching the dancefloor —

The colors sliding over his partner's face, eyes bright and fresh, arms steady and feet sure beneath them, spinning, turning, artful and quick over the wooden floor beneath light steps, unbound and unmoored in time, kept in check only by the confines of the song and stage —

Soft, soft, before becoming too excited once again, slower, slower, quieter, quieter, lingering... longing for something bittersweet and what must finally, always, come to an end, resisting. One more song, one more round, leading, leading, pulling for yet a little longer, fast, fast, pleading —

But, it will come to an end, it must, always end, and the inevitable no longer put off. The strings sing, and cry, lingering, hoping, for just a breath longer, to reclaim the hopeful sweetness of before... but alone, it remains from reach. Lucifer's eyes do not close, but he can picture it readily in his mind, of their movements coming to an end and dipping down, the little red violin's voice fading out as his bow slows...

And then stills, piece finished and the mood set, briefly, matching his emotions at being reminded that the dance could not always go on. Accepting, but rueful, always. Always wanting one more encore.

"...Fantastic choice."

That Lucifer pegs him as a masochist is probably not entirely inaccurate, but he will not give credence to the theory at the moment, too intrigued by the lesson or tale that the other sees fit to regale him with as he listens. He is not the sort of individual to interrupt a musical performance of any kind, really - so long as it is inoffensive and done with appropriate taste - and so he is silent, ears primed as he takes in the details that are shared with him throughout.

But the details of the story - the revelation of hellborn being the illegitimate manifestation of coupling between Goetia and Sinners - are not at the forefront of his mind, even if he does find the history and lore to be rather fascinating. That is not the prevailing theory, he imagines, given the more prominent belief that it is Lucifer who is responsible, and yet to Alastor, neither truly matter in the moment, his eyes not enraptured by the architecture of the room nor even the visualization of the characters - of Astraea and her unidentified lover - but instead at the way that Lucifer's fingers trail across the strings of the violin in his grasp.

The radio demon, a slave to his passion and love for music and storytelling both, is transfixed by the grace with which the Devil brings forth the tale in the spoken word and the notes which the violin emits with pointed expertise. As Lucifer continues, it is less that Alastor is wrapped up in the universe he is crafting, but in the fallen angel himself, effectively silenced by the emotion and stark seriousness with which he has committed himself to do justice to the subject matter. To the point where, by the time the tale has concluded and Lucifer caps the finality of its ending with his much less showy prattle, that Alastor is entirely speechless.

His chest rises and falls with a breathlessness he is not sure the source of, eyes locked between the violin in Lucifer's hold and the Devil's casual candor in the face of what Alastor deems to be no less than a display of musical beauty that he is not sure he is even worthy to have witnessed.

But he finds his voice before it becomes obvious that he is doing much more staring than listening, shaking himself back into his usual temperament (or struggling to) before he responds.

"...That is- quite the story," he says, fumbling slightly over his words as he tries to pluck out the details of what he has been told to hopefully convince Lucifer that he was listening. (He wasn't.)

"It seems even Hell's royalty is not entirely immune to falling in with the worst of us."

It is not meant to be an allegory in pointed observation of current company, but...

"You said you would be open to a request, didn't you? I think I may have one in mind. Are you familiar with Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale?"

It is a more popular piece, he will admit, but - Alastor is antsy to hear it performed right in front of him. It is not every day one gets the opportunity. And where his earlier demeanor may have been slightly nonchalant and disconnected in his gaze as he often is, those red eyes of his are now bright with interest, sitting properly upright in his seat as he keeps them on Lucifer. Unwavering.

Perhaps a bit hopeful?

[giggly-squiggily]

Hi! How are you? I saw headcanon requests are open and got excited! I was wondering if you would be willing to do Dr. Stone headcanons for Ukyo, because he is sweet boi. If not, I totally understand! I hope you’re doing well and I hope you have a wonderful day!

*squeals* YES! I love Ukyo so much kjajkearjkjke I've gotcha anon! (And I'm doing well- thank you :3)

-Ticklish ears. Even grazing them or puffing on them will make him shiver. By far his worst tickle spot for sure! (Though his armpits and upper ribs are terrible too.) Also really ticklish palms.

-Super bubbly laugh- kinda whiny too if you get his bad spots. They're the kind to grow louder and gigglier the longer you tickle him- and if you suddenly switch it up and go from a not so ticklish spot (His ribs) to his ears- he will shriek. Kinda hates it though cause his hearing is so delicate but it's really endearing to listen.

-He's a rolly-polly squirmer; even when he likes it his natural reaction is to squirm away and escape. If he's in a mood he'll roll back in, but even if he's not he's still within grabbing distance. Be careful though- try as he might to prevent it- Ukyo's a bit of flailer. One wrong move and you might be headbutted or smacked with the back of his hand (he'll feel awful about it RIP)

-He's too good as a ler- very mischievous and sneaky. He loves sneaking up on people and giving them a quick little tickle before fading away, doing that repeatedly throughout the evening until either someone catches him or he just decides to full blown attack. If his target says something along the lines of "Just tickle me already!" You KNOW he's on it. Don't bother hiding from him- he can hear every little thing from the steps you take to the shallowest breathe.

-He's a little bit of a tease; very "Oh, are you ticklish here? What about here? Here? Oo, sounds like this is a bad spot huh? What was that noise- let's hear it again". He's incredibly gentle- leans heavily on light skitters over harder kneading. By far one of the softest tickler of all the Kingdom of Science (just behind Tsukasa). This works out especially great for Chrome (who is very weak to light skittery tickles) and Nikki (Not as effective on her but she finds them incredibly soothing).

Thanks for reading!

[satorena]

✮⋆˙ I LUV WHEN WE GET FREAKY ON CAMERA !?

featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

warnings. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

rena’s note. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

[iisasxia]

Bakugo loves to zip up your dresses for you whenever you guys go out.

When you guys went out for the hero awards he happily took his time zipping up the lacey wine red dress you chose to wear, not aware it would be coming off 2 hours later.

Needless to say his favorite part was helping you get ready, strapping on your heels, putting on your bracelets and necklaces. He loved it and he loved you and as your boyfriend he made sure to remind you of that daily.

You had went out again but midday which for him seemed a bit odd with the dress you were wearing, you told him you’d be back around 7:30 to cook late dinner to which he agreed to as long as he could help.

You came on time like you said but he thought it was weird when you asked to take off the dress for you.. he did so anyways with a raised brow that soon turned into two when he realized you asked him to do so.

—

“Kats” you close the door behind you and wait for any sign of him being home.

“Hey you’re home” he stepped out of your shared bedroom and made his way over to you, per usual helping you take off your heels and peppering you with soft kisses.

“Do you wanna shower ? I don’t mind cooking dinner if you wanna relax.” he scanned your face for any sign of exhaustion or discomfort but was a bit confused to see the grin on your face.

You kiss him softly before cupping his face and reassuring him. “M’ okay kats” and you can’t help but smile at the way he loosens up knowing you’re okay, his kisses trailing from the palm of your hand that held his face to your arm and neck..

You were so into it you didn’t realize he was starting to leave hickeys.

“Mm kats..” you softly whisper, trying to get his attention.

“Mm ?”

“I need you to do something for me”

He looked up in curiosity and amusement as to what you might ask. “What is it ?”

“Do you mind unzipping my dress for me ?” You turn around and make sure your hair isn’t in the way.

He paused for a moment, confused at your request considering you usually take your dresses off yourself with no issue. He didn’t oppose to your request and began unzipping your dress.

He stopped for a moment.. “y/n..” you could feel his breath against your skin as he held back from taking you right then and there.

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your face. “You like it ?”

There was no response.. he was taking in the fresh tattoo that made its way from the nape of your neck down to the dimples on your back, the tattoo was sexy and he was glad you weren’t facing him to see him practically drooling over both it and you.

“I decided to get one finally but I wanted to surprise you.. I thought you’d-“ and you bit your lip to suppress the moan that nearly left your mouth.

He gently pressed a finger down your spine where the tattoo presented itself. God what did he do to deserve a girlfriend like you is all he could ask himself.

“K-kats it’s sensitive..” you practically whine as he trails his finger back up now placing both his hands on your hips to turn you around.

“I fucking love it.” is all he could say before crashing his lips onto yours, but before he could continue he had to ask.

“How long until it heals ?”

“About 6 months”

You expected him to be upset but the smirk on his face said otherwise.

—

“I don’t mind putting you on your stomach.”

[nyantry]

"It's a red Camaro," he said, giggling as he explained, "Boxy, like uh... pretty sure it's from the sixties or something? Old hunk of trash, I swear, I didn't really have money to keep it all nice-looking. Only had it cause some old man gave it to me in exchange for this huge mural he wanted and I figured it was a fair exchange. Last I saw it..." he paused to think. "Last I saw it was near where I used to live when we met, the person I sold it to was local. I don't have any contact info but I can text you the plate number, just remind me later, my phone's dead."

Dmitry had no doubt that Nico would be able to locate the car... and obtain it. But it was one of those things where he knew better than to ask for the finer details on Nico's methodology. Bought, stolen, or Jedi-mind-tricked, it didn't really matter to him. It had been more wishful thinking than a demand of a request, anyhow, and if for some reason Nico couldn't find the car, that was no big deal either.

Dmitry made a mental note to ask more about Caim later. That name had come up once or twice, and he knew it was one of Nico's... not-brothers? Demon relations were something still shrouded in mystery to Dmitry. But certainly, Caim was one associated with Murmur in some way, he thought. He hadn't realized Nico was still in contact with Caim, or any of the other demons for that matter. It just wasn't the right time to ask right now, either. The littlest angel was enjoying joking around with Nico and being lighthearted. It felt good, and it felt good to be back.

Nico even promised to get their black parade of ghosts on the game invite list, earning a pleased grin from the emo angel. He rested against Nico feeling distinctly like he would never leave the space between Nico's arms and chest. That kind of closeness, more than just by virtue of being freely-given affection, was especially pleasant because of the relief from closing the distance between their stitched-up souls. He pushed away a memory from the one time they'd had the chance to truly share the same space and swim in each other. It was unobtainable right now. It was better not to dwell. Besides...

Jovan showed up, as Dmitry had been certain he would.

"Sorry! I keep forgetting you're like... It's hard to call out at a normal volume when I can't see ya, I forget," he shrugged. "But see? You're down to show up at the ghost party, it's all good! It's okay if you disappoint me some other time, I got me a Nico," he said, punctuating the thought with a kiss for Nico.

Dmitry wanted his old car back? Nico was clueless. This was obviously before him, but what this halfling heard was a wish.

"Just give me some clues on where it last was and your wish is my command. I'll be your genie for a day, babe. You want it and I'll figure it out for you."

He crossed his arms like the genie on Aladdin. "Poof, what do you need? Your old car? Oh, okay. Just give me some time and the great Nicosa will find it for you."

He was not even worried about who had it last or whether they willing to give it back. Bah. Willing was a word he was good at getting people to feel.

He just laughed about the dishonor shit. All good joking around. "Just don't fuck with Caim's cows. He's weird about his cows. I don't know. It's a Caim thing. Fucker talks to cows. Go figure." He laughed.

He liked being trapped in by Dmitry. Felt like good times, old times, normal, good, old times. He didn't have to cling if Dmitry was already clinging.

Game explained and it seemed like Dmitry got the jist even in his scattered way of explaining.

"Then that's on list. I'll get right on it. Ghost parade." He wobbled his brow and Spocked one up. "Black parade for the invite list and we'll ask them to play."

Then Dmitry was on the ball already hollering for Jovan. The closest ghost usually.

Jovan's voice would vibrate in Nico's ears. "Aint gotta yell, bruh. Aint gotta yell."

He slowly manifested into a transparent version of himself and said, "But no promises on the not disappointing thing. That's pretty much been my M.O. my whole life. Pretty sure it doesn't change in the afterlife. I disappointed my momma. It's very possible I'll disappoint you too, buddy. That said I'll come to your party. Wherever a ghost party shall be found will be the souls that can get down. That would be moi." He pointed at himself.