#slight rant below

[bipbopdepmop]

something something these guys are almost always used as just a sidepiece to grian

[safety-pin-punk]

yall Im so fucking tired. This month has been exhausting. I promise Im alive, just barely functional atm.

[stupidrant]

SANTA MONICA STUDIOS GIVE ME MORE ANGRBODA CONTENT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

PLEASE WE ARE BEGGING WE ARE GETTING FRUSTRATED 😡😡😡😡 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[lavnderkiwi]

can't even lie...the crossbow prosthetic your inquisitor can have in one of the end cards for DAI looks awesome as shit. i know the inquisitor will be coming back (like how hawke came back in DAI) but i hope they give us the choice to either add a prosthetic or keep them without one.

[end-orfino]

man it would be cool to have a long-term creating capability wouldn't it. wouldn't it.

[4nicolas]

can we talk about how nice it would be to cuddle true form sukuna? mfer could cradle you with four arms, he’s also giant and definitely warm.

heian era sukuna x reader

—————————————————————————

when you woke up, you felt like you were trapped, unable to breathe, unable to move. opening your eyes slowly, you squint, realizing why you felt this way.

a head of spiky pink hair laid atop your chest, just barely grazing your neck and chin. sukuna was laying on top of you, his head resting right below your collarbones and his body halfway on yours.

two of his arms lay over you, one pushed up over your shoulder, tucked neatly under the pillow, the other lazily laying over your waist.

sukunas other hands lay resting on the other side of you, his top pair of arms trapping your head between them. one of his legs was tangled with yours, rendering your legs unable to move as well.

unable to do anything you simply closed your eyes, listening to sukunas light snores and the way his bare back rose ever so slightly signaling he was still breathing and alive.

his presence was calming to you, which was something you’re fairly sure only you could say. when he was around you, your body felt more at ease, feeling protected by this walking natural disaster; you weren’t scared, you could never be, in fact you were enthralled by him.

the way he looked at you, the way his hands moved up and down your body, praising you even though thousands praised him. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, his eyes always holding a certain longing in them.

you learned to treasure these moments, sukuna rarely ever shown a “soft” side. it simply wasn’t who he was. he grew up being a feared murderer and that was who he grew into.

everyone knew sukuna as the king of curses, the embodiment of evil, an abomination, but to you, he was just sukuna.

the same sukuna who cradled you in his arms after a long day. the same sukuna who listened to you rant about your day and random topics you enjoyed. the same sukuna who would have uraume fix you the best meals, making sure to take care of you before him. the same sukuna who would kill everyone in the damn world for you.

no one saw this side of sukuna, that was a fact, you were the only exception, the only person in the entire world who could be so close to sukuna.

sukuna always made sure you knew that, telling you that no one else deserved his attention like you, how he’d kill anyone else who tried to do the same things you did.

a low groan and slight shift brought you back to reality, seeing the pink haired man move, adjusting his position. you felt him take a deep breath before turning his head to face you, propped up on his chin, his eyes examined you.

you were sure you had terrible bed head, your face felt puffy and you could feel yourself sweating but that didn’t stop him from looking at you like you were everything.

his eyes were so impossibly soft, his pupils were dialated, you were unsure whether it was from just waking up or something else. the both of you stayed silent, each of you getting refamilarized with the wrinkles and crevices of your faces.

you always thought sukunas eyes were beautiful, the deep crimson seemingly pulling you in. his eyes were captivating, so unique that even animals stop and stare.

everything about sukuna was unique. sukunas lip upturned slightly, a soft smile forming on his features. “g’morning…” he spoke right into your face, his voice deep and raspy from just waking.

you couldn’t help but smile back, swallowing as you returning the goodmorning. sukuna sighed, sounding content as his arm to the left of your face went up to cup your cheek.

you instantly leaned into his touch, his hand was rough and calloused but he touched you with such gentleness it didn’t even matter.

your mornings normally went like this, you woke up first, sukuna waking up shortly after, leading to lazy cuddles and warm bodies pressing against each other.

a comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you were lost in one another’s eyes, unable to tear away. you closed your eyes, leaning your head back before exhaling.

you could feel sukunas eyes still on you, observing sleepily. sukunas thumb starting rubbing circles into your cheeks, his hand on your waist traveling up and down.

the contact made you smile, looking down at sukuna. wiggling your arm from underneath his body you wrapped it around his back, feeling his muscles and scars from everything he’s done.

sukunas body was that of a deity. it exceeded anything close to ethereal. everything about his body was scarily strong, his arms and legs huge and powerful.

one could say having two faces and two sets of arms was weird yet it benefitted everything that he was. this man was made to be worshipped, he was something extraordinary, straight out of a fairytale.

your hand rubbed his back, his body seemed to relax even further against your touch. you were at peace, well as much peace as one could be squished under four hundred pounds of pure muscle.

now sukuna closed his eyes, copying your actions from earlier as his pushed his face into your chest, taking deep breathes, just enjoying the moment with you.

sukuna always slept with his shirt off, whether it was a preference or it was for you, you didn’t know, but he did. you recalled hearing him say something along the lines of enjoying the feeling of his bare skin against you, but you might’ve dreamt that.

every chance sukuna got he tried to be impossibly close to you, his hands lingering on your hips, cupping your cheek, holding your hand, kissing your knuckles, hugging you.

his favorite thing was to be with you; killing people who pissed him off was close second, and eating those people was third. when sukuna was away from you his mood plummeted, he acted like a completely different person the moment you were more than ten feet away from him.

you’ve brought this up before, but he simply shrugs it off, ignoring it in a way. you thought it’s because he didn’t want to admit to being clingy, scratch that, you knew it was because he didn’t want to admit to being clingy.

he would never say such foolish words yet here was, pressed up against you, arms wrapped around you tightly with his face pushed into your chest.

moving your hand up his back you reached his hair, gently combing the pink locks, scratching his head tenderly. sukuna groaned into your shirt, taking in a deep breath before exhaling.

sukuna loved breathing in your smell, there was something about it that made him feel giddy, excited even. he loved holding you in his lap, simply holding his face in your neck as he inhaled your scent.

when he’s stressed or frustrated about something going on, your scent would bring him back to earth, helping him focus and be more alert from you just being next to him.

your body always brought him back to his senses, whether it be the softness of your hands on his body or the hugs you give him. he couldn’t get enough of you.

sometimes he wondered if you put him under a spell, that maybe you had some technique that causes him to act like this. he was not used to feeling so… so strongly about someone.

the way his heart would beat faster when you were around, the way his stomach gets queasy when you touch him, the way you intoxicate him with every little thing about you.

he often thinks about what he’ll do when you’ll die, hell if you get killed, many people have it out for sukuna and he was constantly on edge fearing that you were in danger.

he hated when you were away from him, scared you weren’t going to come back. he would even go as far as to send uraume to watch you from a distance, not wanting to take any chances.

he cared about you and it hurt him. it hurt him how you were leverage against him, something that made him weak, something that could be used against him.

none of this mattered right now because you were in his arms, protected from all danger. as long as he was here you wouldn’t have so much as a scratch on you, and if you were to return injured, even something as little as a scratch, the thing that caused it would be in for a new world of pain.

his hands held you tighter, pulling you closer to him. as long as he had you here, he didn’t have to worry. he was fine because you were cuddled up against him.

you felt yourself growing tired again because sukunas warm weighted blanket-esk body was on top of you, not that you were complaining but you really didn’t wanna go back to sleep.

not like you had any say in the matter, as long as sukuna sleeps, you sleep, even if he didn’t join you until 1 or 2 in the morning.

sukuna shuffled above you, extending his leg further over yours to make double sure you weren’t going anywhere, even though he knew you’d never try.

his hands return to their normal places as sukuna feels his eyes growing heavy again. he could worry about you when he was awake and you were out of his arms.

until then though, he was happy, happy being in your arms as you were in his.

—————————————————————————

yeah uhm, I freaking love sukuna and had this idea at 3am. i’m tired and don’t feel like proofreading so if it sucks, sowwy!

that’s all.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

They found something wrong with my neck 💖

[kimikitti]

Hi! Sorry if there’s a lore doc or something I missed but I saw your new Obi design and the overblot doodles and would love to know the lore! From my understanding, Obi can consume magic? Did he use that to tame overblots? I’m completely enamored by the idea that all these big scary monsters are just hanging out in Ramshackle. Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Co-parenting with the manifestation of your childhood trauma is always better with a smoothie.

(LOL there is no lore doc. It's just me cryptically posting about Obi and the phantoms and then bouncing. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity for me to rant about the lore I have bouncing around my brain. Also, I probably should make a tag to make all this lore stay in one place. Rant below the cut (May contain slight spoilers))

Obi and the phantoms:

To answer your first question: Yes, Obi can consume magic. In fact, he needs to consume it to survive. When he consumes magic, they taste like words and information. If he eats a spell, Obi gains an understanding of the spell's nature and effects. Repeated consumption of the same spell can lead to greater revelations. Obi is not totally conscious of this ability, as the information he gains seems to have always existed to him.

Did he use that to tame overblots?

No, the phantoms are not really beings that can be tamed. Obi devoured them during the overblot. And wakes up with a book in his clutches. Said books are how he summons the phantoms once again.

Each phantom takes on a personality and ability separate but similar to their original creator. Some phantoms are more willing than others to be cooperative.

Obi doesn't really mind much. Unwanted creations should stick together. It's better than being alone.

Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Some of them are, for some it takes more time to warm up to the idea of the phantoms. After all, its hard to be totally ok with a being born of their worse moments. I can run through some general attitudes.

Riddle: Absolutely terrified at first. But seems dedicated to "educating" his phantom. He comes around a lot. (The phantom loves this)

Leona: Comes by frequently but he does not seem to show a strong interest in his own phantom, brings meat. (The phantom also appears uninterested in its creator, but has been seen curling around leona while he's taking a nap)

Azul: Does not come by at all. (The phantom hates this, but understands)

Jamil: The phantom often seeks Jamil out frequently, seems to have a strong desire to bring gifts to its creator. It is unclear how Jamil feels about this. (Jamil is unsure about this, Kalim loves this)

Vil: The phantom hides from Vil. It is ashamed. (Vil dislikes this, but is trying to coax it out)

Idia: Ortho... sleeps most of the time. He wishes to be near his brother but is often not strong enough to be the dominant desire among them. Idia and Ortho visit frequently they love to play video games together. (Ortho loves this)

Malleus:

(I honestly love coming up with the phantoms and their respective lore so if you're interested to learn more please let me know! Thank you for the questions)

[creganslover]

OOMG omg omg okay random random idea what if cregan gets injury and he’s unable to go to that wall and his wife (reader) goes instead and the people don’t know if she will be able to make it. And after when she come back the men tell great storys about how strong she is and like how she’s amazing blah blah blah and cregan goes “yeah I choose the right one”

i need me a cregan stark PLEASE

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

more than a woman, cregan stark x fem! warrior! reader

warning/s: mentions of injury, one misogynistic comment, slight violence

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

If there was one thing Cregan hated; it was being put on bed rest. 

And if he had hated two things; it was being put on bed rest while his wife left him to fulfill his occasional visit to the wall to check upon their status. 

No, he doesn’t hate the idea of you taking over, instead he hates the idea of being away from you or you him. He also hated doing nothing. 

But you had advised him that bed rest was important as he had been recovering from a nasty battle that had left him with a rather nasty wound on his side and an arrow to his leg. Who was he to disobey his wife?

Although he was put on bed rest, a Northerner like him was also stubborn. Maester Owen nearly had a heart attack seeing his Lord making his way to the hall with his temporary crutch, his other hand supporting his side. Cregan only simply wanted to learn how Winterfell had been faring, and he dared not listen to it in his chambers. 

When you left, Cregan knew you were quite capable in handling yourself, though others believed otherwise, even believing that she couldn’t make it, which had Cregan quickly dismissing the notion, almost going on a rant of how you were much more of a warrior than the person had said so. 

And when you had returned when Cregan had now recovered almost fully, a feast was held in your return, Cregan immediately taking you into his arms, with you chiding him to put you down, worrying about his wound, which he only shut you up with the press of his lips against yours. 

The night the feast was held, their men that his wife came back with commended her as she sat beside him upon the high table. One of the men standing from the bench, raising his mug of ale as he pointed it towards you.

“Aye she’s a strong woman that one, ain’t taking no disrespect!” He said, taking a sip of his ale as the other followed, agreeing. “You should have seen her lord, damn nearly put the man’s arse beyond the wall insulting her! He deserved the black eye that she gave ‘im!” 

Cregan rose his brows in amusement, a smirk forming on his lips as you flushed from the praise beside him, a hand laying itself on your thigh, squeezing as Cregan turned to you. “Is that right?” He asked, his tone pleading for more insight to the story. 

“He would not cease his mouth as I was talking, he said I was better off in the kitchens than reporting to the Wall.” You spoke, a moment of annoyance passes Cregan’s features. “I should have told him he should have been sent beyond the wall- yet I was too angry I moved and punched him!” You replied, earning a chorus of laughter from the men below. 

Cregan looked proud, nodding along to your story as the men continued to tell tales drunkenly of your latest expedition to the Wall, how you were not fazed being on the top of the Wall to how you’ve carried your commands without falter. 

Cregan slams his mug on the table, earning silence and looks to you both as he raises it high. “Lucky for me, I’ve chosen the right woman all along, am I right, men?” 

The hall filled with shouts of accordance, ale poured and food shared, all because of you.

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

cregan tag-list: @misswynters

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date 

warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection

notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.9k

| masterlist | part v |

He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day. 

Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life. 

She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along. 

She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day. 

Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.

She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas. 

Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them. 

Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere. 

But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.

That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that. 

He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.

December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week. 

They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day. 

Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.

He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.

They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.

They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved. 

She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in. 

Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects. 

Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled. 

“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.” 

“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.” 

She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her. 

Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval. 

“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple. 

He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review. 

“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors. 

“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”

“Not a clue Doc.” 

She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”. 

“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw. 

He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act. 

“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill. 

He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!” 

She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat. 

“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded. 

She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?” 

He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!” 

She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?” 

His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand. 

“Nope!” 

“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.

He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth. 

“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!” 

He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration. 

She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?

She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town. 

The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.  

“Order up!” 

Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks. 

“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!” 

Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan. 

“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress. 

Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense. 

Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him. 

“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now. 

He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that? 

She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him. 

She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat. 

“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.” 

Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full. 

But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes. 

He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort. 

A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?

He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now. 

They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more. 

Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night. 

Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt. 

He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together. 

“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel. 

“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.

He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.” 

He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs. 

“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?

“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.

“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up. 

Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now. 

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head. 

“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.” 

She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement. 

“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising. 

“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.

He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.

He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her. 

“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.” 

She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.

It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next. 

He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe? 

No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.

He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her. 

“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”

She pales next to him. 

[starsinmylatte]

Be Our Girl?

If you saw Tumblr immediately flag this, no, you didn't.

This is the first request I received as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event. There are still slots open, so please click the link for more info!

Thank you to @enchantedsylveon for their support and the wonderful request 💜. I went way over the word count because I got possessed by the spirit of horny. Forgive me 😅

Pairing: Geto x Gojo x afab!reader (aka SatoSugu x afab!reader) Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 6.8k Request: Morally grey, obsessive pleasure doms Gojo and Geto take care of their girl while she's on her period.

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

A/N: This is my first time writing a threesome AND my first time writing for both of these characters....... So, Leeeeeroy Jenkins!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (princess, baby, etc), references to mental health issues, multiple sex positions, dacryphilia, cursing, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, cum eating, banter during sex, breeding kink, cervix fucking, deepthroating, praise and light degradation, y'all get the gist this is some filth (affectionate)

It was early one morning, far too early for any sane person to be awake as you sat on a couch, trapped between your two long-time friends. On one end of the couch, Satoru Gojo pouted and stared out the nearby window, nursing a can of soda like it was hard liquor. Geto Suguru occupied the other end, glaring at the wall like he wanted to burn a hole through it. He was doing his damnedest to avoid paying his best friend any attention as you sat between the two men, grumbling under your breath. You were unlucky enough to be quite literally in the middle of their dispute. 

The two young men had been fighting so much recently, and it had honestly hurt your heart to see. Their bickering had affected their efforts in school, nearly destroyed both of their mental health, and strained their relationship to a breaking point. Shoko had advised you to leave it alone, saying the boys needed to figure it out on their own or just fuck already, but as their other best friend, you just couldn’t take much more of it. Especially when Satoru made a habit of coming over at three A.M. to complain about Suguru. 

Funnily enough, that was precisely what had led to the current situation. Satoru had shown up, knocked so hard that he nearly broke your door down in the process, and shoved his way inside your apartment despite your many protests. 

Now, there were multiple reasons why his visit was horribly timed. The first would’ve been immediately evident if the strongest sorcerer wasn’t so preoccupied. You were wincing in pain when you answered the door, clutching a hot water bottle to your lower stomach, and Gojo had been too oblivious to notice. He simply brushed past you, already ranting as he headed directly for your plush couch. 

“‘Toru, wait-“ 

“That emo bastard can’t get it through his thick skull that we’re supposed to be friends. He-” Satoru paused mid-rant as the emo bastard in question sat up on your couch, groaning. Suguru had been fast asleep until now, and the raven-haired man looked pissed that he had been woken up. 

The deep circles under Suguru’s eyes had only grown more exaggerated in the past few days, and his long, beautiful raven hair was a tangled mess. You could see the weariness he carried creep under his skin more and more, and it honestly terrified you. Suguru had confided in you that he could barely sleep anymore, and like the good friend you were, you offered for him to sleep on your couch, hoping the proximity to a close friend would help ease his mind. 

“You’d better be talking about someone else,” Suguru hissed at Gojo, dark eyes flashing with anger as you slammed the heel of your hand against your head.

“I can already feel another migraine coming,” you muttered under your breath. “‘Satoru, as I was trying to say, you may want to come back later because I. already. have. company.”

You punctuated your words with brief pauses, not even bothering to try and hide the annoyance in your tone.  Gojo pursed his lips dramatically, rolling his eyes. He immediately turned on his heel to leave, but you beat him to the door. “Oh, no. You didn’t listen to me, so you get to stay. I am not in the mood for this to be a revolving door today.”  

He opened his mouth to argue, but one look from you silenced him. You motioned for Geto to scoot over on the couch, and the sleep-deprived man shot you an incredulous look as Gojo pilfered a soda from your fridge. 

Nearly thirty minutes of awkward silence had passed between the three of you on the couch before you’d finally had enough. You had been trying to be a good, patient friend, but this morning was the absolute last straw.  For half of the previous night, you’d been curled up in a ball with the most abysmal cramps, completely unable to sleep. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you had drifted off… only to be woken up by Gojo thirty minutes later. Your cramps were still coming in awful waves, and no medication was helping. You simply wanted to melt into the floor, but you were being forced to babysit two of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers who had ever lived while they behaved like petulant children. 

A particularly harsh cramp had you gritting your teeth, barely able to speak as you forced two words past your lips. “That’s enough.” 

Both of your companions’ heads whipped around, and you felt the weight of two completely different gazes. One was ice-cold, and the second felt like scorched earth; they were polar opposites, but each held the same intense gravity. 

“The two of you are going to talk this out. This all passed ridiculous a long time ago.” You continued, gesturing around dramatically with one hand, holding up the other to silence the noises of protest that left both men. Your throat felt dry and raw with anger. All of the frustration and pain in your body had coalesced into a single, white-hot ball of emotion, which was currently clawing its way out of your throat with a vengeance. 

“I’m not finished. Geto Suguru, I want you to feel better, but you have to open up to us. If you keep all your emotions bottled up, you’re going to go insane one day and start a cult or something.” 

Geto looked down at his folded hands, clearly a bit stunned by your outburst. Normally, something like this would’ve never happened. You were always such a caring, sweet girl, and you had never lost your temper in front of either man. Both Gojo and Geto instantly knew that they’d fucked up for you to be this viscerally angry and use their full names at the same time. You had never called them anything other than their first names for the many years you’d been friends.

“And you, Gojo Satoru, need to calm down and try to understand your best friend more. The two of you need to actually talk. You’ve just expected Suguru to come to you for help all this time, but you could also reach out first.” Gojo had the decency to blush in embarrassment, setting his soda can down on a coaster while you scolded him.

You stood rather abruptly, intending to leave the two men to sulk while you crawled back into your warm bed, but you forgot about one very important thing in your addled state. The hot water bottle was still on your lap, and it hit the floor with a loud clang the second you stood. Water splashed everywhere, finally catching the attention of both men. Gojo’s icy gaze met Geto’s earthen one as the full situation finally clicked in their heads, and they shared a look that clearly read “oh shit.” 

The loss of the water bottle’s comforting warmth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fat, hot tears started to roll down your cheeks as you felt your uterus violently contract again. You doubled over, and both men stood, rushing to your side as you cried out in pain, fully sobbing.

“You’re making all of us worry, especially me. I just can’t keep listening to my two best friends complain about each other instead of talking through their problems, and I feel horrible right now, and I just-” 

Geto ran a comforting hand down your back. “Shit. Shhh… We’re sorry for making you worry. Right, Satoru?” 

Gojo sighed as the raven-haired man stared at him pointedly. “He’s right, we’re very sorry. C’mere, let’s get you back into bed.” 

He held his arms out as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. With one swift motion, Gojo scooped you up in his arms as Suguru quickly towled up the water on the floor. Somewhere deep in your mind, you realized that you could feel Satoru’s warm skin against yours; he had turned off Infinity for you. He cradled you for a few precious minutes, purring soft reassurances against your ear that had you relaxing into his arms. 

“S’ alright. I’ve got you.” 

Suguru rolled his eyes and finished cleaning in almost record time. He pushed his friend toward your room, entering first to scoop your sheets aside and plug in your big heating pad. Gojo laid you down on the soft mattress, and you immediately snuggled up underneath the sheets. Another sharp stab of pain made you wince, and the two men shared another pointed look and a collective sigh, finding enough truce in their argument to climb into the bed on either side of you. 

Geto passed the heating pad to Gojo, who gently placed it against your lower stomach before pulling you against his chest. You clung to him happily, nuzzling into his warmth. However, this new position also made you oblivious to the way Geto’s eyes flashed in frustration at the sight. 

The raven-haired man pulled your back against his chest in retaliation, splaying a possessive hand over your hip as Gojo smirked at him. You murmured in appreciation, unconsciously shifting to lay against them equally as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.  Geto and Gojo locked eyes and finally relaxed, seemingly arriving at some unspoken agreement. They joined you in a deep, comfortable sleep, and it was by far the best sleep any of you had gotten in months. 

The three of you only grew closer after that night. It had only taken a week for Gojo and Geto to patch up their relationship, and they emerged with a stronger bond than before. When Shoko asked about the change, the boys cheerfully credited your period-induced breakdown as the catalyst that led them to reconcile. Gojo would grin cheekily, the action only mirrored by his raven-haired counterpart’s self-satisfied smirk as the two repeated the very same answer to everyone else who asked. They also pointedly ignored how you blushed and stammered at them, “Please, stop telling everyone about that.” 

“No can do, sweetheart.” Satoru winked at you over the rim of his dark glasses before sighing dramatically, poking at your soft, pouting cheeks, “Besides, where would we be without you? You put us in our place, so you deserve all the credit.”

Geto chuckled, a darkly amused glint in his eyes as he placed his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re right. We both need our girl to keep us straight.”

–

Time flew by as the three of you graduated and rejoined Tokyo Jujutsu High as young teachers. Life was… interesting; some things had changed for you, but many things still stayed the same. For one thing, you, Satoru, and Suguru were still incredibly close. Even though there were always missions to complete, students to educate, and monsters to kill, the three of you made time to spend together. 

Quite often, your “quality time” with the two men was spent in the form of a massive movie night at your apartment. There had been many discussions about moving it to Gojo’s ritzy new place, but the routine was already too ingrained in the three of you. So, every other weekend, you all piled on top of your plush sofa to watch cheesy movies, cycling through picks from every genre imaginable until everyone fell asleep. 

However, as much as you enjoyed the tradition, you had almost canceled tonight’s marathon. The worst part of your period was supposed to be over by now, but the heavy cramping hadn’t let up at all.

“Those two better be glad I love them so much,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you caught your accidental choice of words. 

Love? No, I don’t love those two. We’re just friends. Really good friends. 

Thoughts continued to whirl around your head as you hurriedly tidied up your living room and small kitchen, preparing everything for the night. No, you most definitely weren’t in love with both of your best friends at the same time. You were so good at ignoring how the two men had only grown more handsome and attentive to you since their big argument, and you definitely never imagined them taking you to bed….

By the time you had nearly convinced yourself that denial was just a river in Egypt, there was a cheerful knock at the door. The knock lasted for all of two seconds before Satoru pushed it open, grinning widely. The white-haired man still wore his blindfold but had traded his usual all-black uniform for a pair of suspiciously designer-looking grey sweatpants and a soft, black t-shirt.

“I brought treats!” He chimed, setting his armful of baked goods and sweets on the counter.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Toru, did you rob a small bakery? You know you’re the only one who will eat most of it.” 

He noticed how you greedily eyed a bar of dark chocolate, snatching it up and waving it at you teasingly, “Oh, so you want me to take it back, then?” 

You pouted, trying to reach for the bar as Satoru weaponized his height against you. He held the chocolate just out of reach, and you jumped, almost brushing the very edge of the wrapper. You landed awkwardly, stumbling backward into something- no, someone- very solid. A rich, amused chuckle tickled your ear as Suguru caught you, reaching up to pluck the bar from Gojo’s hand as his hand cupped your hip. 

“Having fun without me, already?” 

“‘Toru’s being mean,” you complained as Suguru passed the sweet to you with a snide grin directed at the other man. 

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, removing his blindfold to wink at you. “I’ve wounded our princess so she can have the first movie pick tonight. 

Your heart twisted and fluttered in your chest at the use of that pet name and the sight of his gorgeous cerulean eyes, but you shoved that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared. 

“I can forgive you… this time.” 

“And you can make the first batch of popcorn,” Suguru added, his signature sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I’ll make sure to burn yours,” Gojo grumbled in response, heading for the kitchen as Suguru herded you toward the couch. 

You plopped down onto the middle of the couch, and Geto settled to your left, promptly handing you the chunky knit blanket you favored. Funnily enough, the arrangement the three of you sat in was as much of a tradition as the movie night itself; you were always in the middle of the two men. The three of you were always sandwiched together, but that didn’t make you flustered. Jujutsu sorcery took such a high mental toll that you had long figured any cuddling was strictly platonic. 

Geto looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you almost sighed in happiness as you caught the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and incense that always surrounded him. You tipped your head against his shoulder, smiling contentedly and nibbling into the chocolate bar as the two of you flipped through movies, looking for the perfect one. Gojo cursed loudly in the other room, and you giggled at the loud banging coming from the stove. 

A few hours later, you finally got to Geto’s pick: a cheesy B-grade horror movie. Bags of candy and popcorn lay strewn over the coffee table as the three of you watched the final girl run from yet another masked killer. You had excused yourself to the bathroom half an hour ago to take some medicine and change into a fresh pad, but your cramps stubbornly refused to give up. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the night, so you suffered in silence, silently wincing in pain every few minutes. 

Geto and Gojo shared a look as they felt your body tense for the umpteenth time, and the raven-haired man clicked pause on the remote while his counterpart rubbed tiny circles over the small of your back. 

“What is it?” Suguru asked, his voice and expression both filled with concern. 

“Nothing, really. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure both men, but they gazed at you, unimpressed and clearly not buying your story. 

“We know you well enough to know that’s not true.” Gojo gazed at you, suddenly more serious than he’d been all night. Geto squeezed your shoulder gently, and both men scooted even closer to you, clearly unwilling to let it go. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’m on my period, and my cramps are really bad right now. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want tonight to end yet, even though I don’t feel well.” 

Geto’s gaze softened, and Gojo laughed quietly, “You know we couldn’t leave our girl when she’s in pain.” 

Your cheeks flushed hotly at Satoru’s words. 

“You know I’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep calling me that.”

The words left your lips before you could even think about what you were saying; the temperature in the room instantly felt ten degrees colder. Suguru’s deep, coffee-colored gaze narrowed instantly, and Gojo tipped his head down to look you in the eyes, his pale irises shining almost eerily in the dim light. 

“Do you not… want to be our girl?” Suguru leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his voice a velvet purr that made you shudder. You felt both men hold you tighter, their grip infinitely more possessive; Geto nipped at the shell of your ear lightly, drawing a small moan out of you. 

“Sugu…. I….. mmmmph..” 

Gojo traced a finger underneath your chin, tilting your eyes to meet his calm gaze. The new angle of your neck gave Geto the perfect angle to kiss up and down the column of your neck, which he promptly took advantage of, ghosting his lips across the sensitive skin. You shuddered, whimpering slightly as Satoru held your face still in one of his large, calloused hands. 

“He asked you a question, baby,” Satoru crooned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his unfairly perfect lips. 

Embarrassment mixed with growing lust dusted your cheeks, and your eyelashes fluttered in sync with every sinful drag of Geto’s lips against your skin. Your head was growing fuzzy, yet your body felt light as a feather as you relaxed between the two large men. Any thought of your previous pain had faded away in a sea of bliss and disbelief until another vicious cramp tore through your abdomen. You jolted upright, worry flashing in your eyes. The two men paused immediately, backing off to let you speak. 

“Even if I do want this…. We can’t right now. I’m….” You trailed off in embarrassment, staring down at the hem of your shirt. 

“Do you think so little of us, sweetheart? You think we’re frightened by a little blood? Geto crooned, and Gojo grinned in response, gasping in mock indignation.  

You shook your head slightly, stammering in protest. “I-I don’t think you’re afraid of it, just that ‘s gross.” 

Gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb, and Geto nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck in reassurance. “Nothing about you could ever be gross; what you’re going through is the most natural thing in the world.” The raven-haired man murmured. 

“And b-both of you want me?” You responded in a daze. 

“Yeah. It’s been that way for years,” Satoru smiled, unashamedly staring at the swell of your slightly parted lips as you gasped in response. 

“It’s been the three of us for our entire lives, and you kept it that way. I don’t see why it should ever change,” Geto added with a low note of amusement. He caressed your waist, and another shudder ran down your spine. “You’ve been ours for years… we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. Let us take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for us.” 

Every nerve ending of your body crackled like a live wire as the two men waited with bated breath for your response. Your mind whirled as you tried to string together an actual sentence. Finally, you were able to moan a single word. “Please…”

The effect it had on the two men was instantaneous. Suguru groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck and pulling you back into his lap. Your back hit his broad, muscular chest, and you melted against him instantly. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this…. How many men we’ve chased off because they didn’t deserve you.” Satoru mumbled, surging forward to claim your lips with his own, pinning you against the other man. The kiss started out soft but quickly grew more insistent as you moaned and whimpered every time Suguru grazed your decolletage with his teeth. He started to pull the neck of your shirt aside for better access to more skin, and you writhed in his arms as he left bruises in the wake of his lips. 

At any other time, you would’ve questioned Satoru’s confession, but right now, you felt hot, almost delirious with budding desire, as he reached down to trail his fingers over your clothed pussy. He rubbed directly over your little clit, but the pleasure you craved was muted by the thick added layer of your pad, and you whined in protest. “‘Toru, need you s’badly.”

“You hear that? Our princess needs you, Satoru.” Geto purred as the other man continued tracing the outline of your pussy. 

You rocked your hips against his fingers, desperate to feel more, but you only succeeded in teasing Suguru as you accidentally rocked your ass directly against his rapidly growing erection.

He hissed loudly, trailing one of his hands under your shirt to cup your bare waist. Gojo chuckled at the sight of his best friend’s suffering, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away with an audible pop. “Careful now, or you’re gonna make it hard for him to last.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Suguru groaned in response, trailing his hand up to paw at your breast. You whined as he lightly pinched and rolled a nipple between his clever fingers, and the raven-haired man chuckled roughly, “Look at how dirty our girl is, not even wearing a bra. She’s so damn sensitive.” 

Your pussy throbbed at his words as Gojo leaned back, kneeling on the couch to watch the show you and Geto were putting on in front of him. Your gaze was half-lidded and hazy with lust, but you could still clearly see the way the muscles of his arm flexed as he reached down to palm his own erection. It stood proud, visibly tenting the dark grey sweatpants he wore, and your mouth watered at the mere outline of his dick. It looked so long and thick, and you could only imagine the bliss of it stuffing you and dragging against your deepest, most sensitive parts. 

He brushed a strand of white hair off his face, looking at you with another cocky smirk as he addressed the other man. “Oi, help me out here, Suguru. I seem to remember something about cramps… I think they’re improved by medicine, a heating pad, or something else. Now, what could that be?” 

Gojo paused for a clear, dramatic effect, his wolfish grin only growing wider as your breath caught in your throat. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize Geto’s lips had trailed back up to your ear as he responded in a dulcet whisper, “I think the answer might be ‘they’re improved by orgasms.’ What do you think, pretty?”

“Yes, god yes,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together. The dull ache of your period had faded away into the haze of lust, but your pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.

Satoru winked at you, leaving the couch and walking into your bedroom for a moment. You whimpered as he left, and Geto chuckled again at your reaction, giving your nipple another rough pinch. “There’s no god here, baby, just us. But we’re gonna do you so good… Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

You lay against his chest as Suguru pushed your shirt all the way up, tucking the hem between your teeth to give himself full, unimpeded access to your chest. He maneuvered the two of you around slightly, leaving you in his lap but allowing both of your legs to dangle off the edge of the couch. “Let’s give Satoru something to look at when he comes back, hmm? Bet he’d love to see these perfect tits.” 

He took each of your breasts into his warm hands, alternating between kneading the soft, supple flesh and pinching your aching nipples. You could only moan softly through the fabric of the shirt stuffed in your mouth as Geto took you higher and higher into bliss with every movement. 

Gojo walked back in not a minute later, holding a few fluffy, black towels. His beautiful eyes widened at the perfectly pornographic scene spread out in front of him, and he cursed under his breath, rushing back to the couch as Geto smirked at his best friend’s needy expression. 

“Careful, or he’s not gonna last long,” he teased, tugging off your shirt as he parodied Gojo’s earlier sentiment. 

The white-haired man huffed and shook his head sarcastically, but you certainly didn’t miss the way he threw his own shirt off and knelt between your legs as quickly as he could. His eyes were shining with ravenous desire, and your pussy throbbed as you realized that Geto’s teasing had an edge of truth. 

Gojo smiled up at you, tucking a towel between your hips and Geto’s lap before hooking his hands into the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them down and tossing them away. 

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” He keened, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs as his long fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. 

You bit your lip as a million worries flooded your mind, but Suguru caressed your face, whispering conspiratorially, “Think about how pretty he’s gonna look between your legs. He can finally put that smartass mouth of his to good use, right?” 

Satoru nibbled his way up your skin, sucking a dark hickey at the apex of your thigh as Geto continued to lavish your breasts with affection. You whined and moaned, keening with every touch. It felt like your entire body was on fire, and you’d go up in flames without the touch of both men. Any embarrassment you could’ve felt had long since evaporated; all you could do was beg for more as both men left their mark on your body. 

“‘Toru, please… Wanna cum so bad.” You whined, begging for relief, and Gojo glanced up at you with an expression that would’ve terrified anyone else. He may have been in a traditionally submissive position, but there was nothing submissive about his body language; he looked like a fallen angel with the way his pale hair framed his face.  

He slipped your panties off, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as all of your perfect body was finally revealed to his ravenous gaze. Satoru threw your legs around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to inspect your cunt. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he used one of his long fingers to part your puffy, swollen folds, completely mesmerized as you moaned his name and your cunt clenched in sheer anticipation of his touch. You were obscenely wet from the mixture of blood and arousal that trailed down your legs, and Gojo couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Our girl’s got a perfect fucking pussy, Suguru,” He mumbled, diving in to lick a fat stripe all the way up to your clit. You moaned wantonly, your head lolling back against Geto’s strong chest as the man behind you held your body upright, still enamored with the way your breasts fit in his hands. 

Period sex was very new to you, but you could already tell that it felt different- not different, better. You felt more sensitive than ever before, and not just between your legs. Your breasts felt heavy and full; you had a sneaking suspicion that you could’ve cum from Geto toying with them alone. 

Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he ate you out like a man starved. He lapped up every bit of arousal and blood from your weeping pussy, fucking you with his tongue before trailing delicious circles on your swollen clit with his tongue until you screamed his name. Your thighs wrapped around Satoru’s head, and the white-haired man moaned desperately, taking the opportunity to slip two fingers deep into your cunt. You keened at the delicious stretch, and Suguru groaned at the sight. 

“T-Toru… Ah-! Sugu….” Tears of pure bliss started to gather in the corners of your eyes as Satoru’s fingers rubbed mercilessly against your G-spot. You felt a familiar band of pleasure start to stretch in your lower stomach, and you whined in desperation. Suguru grabbed one of your arms, pressing desperate kisses against the delicate skin of your inner wrist as his other hand toyed with a nipple in time with Satoru’s thrusts.

“S’close.. Nnnnngh, gonna cum… pleasepleaseplea-” The band of pleasure snapped suddenly before you could even finish your sentence, launching you over the edge of the most intense orgasm of your life. Tears fell as you shattered in between the two men, crying and rocking your hips against Satoru’s face while your core fluttered around his fingers. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” Suguru growled as he scooped you up. He cradled you in his arms and leaned down to kiss you as Satoru stood, licking the blood and cum off his fingers. 

The taller man grinned as the two of you kissed passionately, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. 

“Baby, you cryin'?” Satoru simpered before leaning in to lick off another tear. When Suguru pulled away to tell him off, Satoru pulled him into a searing kiss, slotting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Geto’s eyes flared in shock before he leaned into the embrace, moaning as he tasted your arousal on his best friend’s tongue. 

“I thought you deserved a taste, too. Isn’t she sweet?” Gojo asked innocently as he pulled away to kiss you as well. You whined and ran your hand over his bare chest as the white-haired man nipped at your already kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Geto stood abruptly, his voice hoarse as he broke the embrace between you and Gojo. He carried you in his arms, shoving another large towel on top of your sheets before gently laying you on top of it. Your head lolled to the side, and you reached down to play with your puffy little clit, moaning softly as the men finished undressing in front of you. 

You watched shamelessly, taking in the sight of their beautiful bodies. Both men were tall and muscular, but Satoru was taller with more of a lean build, almost like an acrobat or a swimmer. Suguru was truly the Yin to Gojo’s Yang; he was stockier and deliciously broad. It was an undeniable fact that both men were gorgeous.

“Sugu… Toru…. Please. Wanna feel you both in me,” You begged, rocking your hips against the movement of your fingers, not even caring about how needy you sounded. 

The bed dipped with their weight as both men joined you on the bed without further hesitation. Geto knelt in front of you, motioning for you to get on all fours and face him. You hummed in delight, rolling over and pushing yourself up to face him. Suddenly, Gojo pinched your plush ass with a snicker. You gasped in shock, and Suguru took the opportunity to slap his thick cockhead onto your tongue. 

“We’re gonna fuck you raw from both ends first, baby. Gonna really make you ours. How’s that sound?” He questioned with a smirk, rubbing his fat tip over your tongue. 

Your gasp quickly turned into a purr of delight as you worked his tip into your mouth, greedily licking at the prominent vein that ran underneath his shaft. Geto’s raven-dark hair fell around his shoulders like a curtain as he moaned loudly. You could taste the salt and musk of his pre-cum as you worked his shaft deeper and deeper into your throat. 

Gojo cursed lowly as he lined up his swollen cockhead with your opening. You wiggled your hips back at him, wordlessly begging to feel the stretch and delicious length of him deep inside you. He pushed in at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to give you time to adjust. 

You moaned in ecstasy, and Geto gasped, bucking his hips slightly as he felt the vibrations of your throat around his shaft. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re sucking my dick like you were made for it.”

Gojo pushed in further, finally bottoming out with his fat cockhead nestled snugly against your cervix. You whined at the dull ache, but the feeling was addictive. You rocked your hips, desperate for more, and the white-haired man moaned. “And she’s sucking me in like she wants to get pregnant tonight.”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped around Geto’s dick, drawing another ragged moan from the man. It wasn’t what you had intended at all, but you couldn’t hide your reaction to Satoru’s lascivious words, especially since he could feel your core fluttering in agreement with his statement. 

You could feel the wickedly delighted grin spread across his face as Gojo grew deadly silent for a moment. “Oh, Suguru~ you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me when I said that. Our girl is even dirtier than we thought.” 

“I told you she’s perfect.” Geto slid into your mouth even further, sighing in bliss and his own ecstasy as he pushed into your throat, entwining his hands in your hair. You gagged for a brief moment; his dick had more girth than Gojo’s, and it was the biggest you’d ever taken like this. The raven-haired sorcerer moaned and crooned down at you, stroking the column of your throat where his cock was nestled so deeply.

More tears fell as your eyes watered in the bliss of being so completely used by the two men. You felt so full, so complete, and you couldn’t help but moan again as your nose rubbed against the dark trail of hair on Geto’s lower abdomen. 

“Shit, gotta move. You ready, baby?” Gojo groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips. You tried to moan in assent, but the sound was strangled by the dick in your throat. 

Geto tipped his head back in ecstasy, laughing hoarsely. “She wants it s’badly, ‘Toru.”

The two men started to move, alternating their thrusts in perfect rhythm like they’d planned this moment for years. Every deep thrust from Gojo would send you falling forward onto Geto’s cock; you could only wordlessly cry in bliss from the position the two men fucked you mercilessly.

Satoru pinched and kneaded the tender flesh of your ass with every thrust. He swiped one of his fingers between your legs, collecting the creamy mixture of his pre-cum and your arousal, offering it out to his best friend with a smirk. Geto sucked it off with an audible pop, groaning at the taste as Satoru returned to collect more. You choked again as you felt one of his long, clever fingers tease your tightest hole, circling the rim with predatory intent. 

“Relax, baby. Gotta get you ready f’me.” He slipped his finger in, beginning to work you open as you relaxed into the intense but euphoric sensation. 

“Our slutty princess wants all her holes filled, huh?” Geto groaned, looking down at your fucked-out expression. “Gotta cum again for us. Gonna make you cum so hard that you can’t think straight.” 

Satoru slipped a second finger into your ass, working you open even further as the two men fell slightly out of sync with their thrusts. They were both breathing hard, grunting and begging desperately for you to cum with them. As if on command, you fell apart for the second time with an obscene moan. White sparks flashed through your vision as your orgasm shot through you, even more forceful than the first. Your cunt spasmed around Gojo so violently that he came on the spot, painting your blood-swollen womb with his pearlescent seed. 

Geto cursed at the sound of Gojo’s strangled cry, pulling completely out of your mouth. You panted and moaned below him, your body shaking with every thrust as Gojo fucked you through your orgasm. Suguru groaned as your tongue lolled out, begging to be coated with his cum. His balls felt almost uncomfortably full as he stroked his shaft rapidly, intent on giving you what you begged for so prettily. 

It only took a few seconds for Geto’s own orgasm to crash through him. The smooth movements of his hips and hands stuttered as he groaned lowly, painting your pretty face with his seed. However, most of it landed in your mouth, and you happily caught it with your pink tongue, holding it out for him to inspect. 

“You’re going to… be the death of me one day,” the raven-haired man moaned as he felt blood immediately rush back to his cock. Instead of swallowing, your eyes shone mischievously, and you turned around to pull Satoru into a searing kiss. You mimicked his earlier actions, but this time you were pushing Suguru’s cum into his mouth.  

Gojo moaned wantonly at the sharp taste, swallowing his share as his own cock twitched back to life. Geto pulled you away from the other man, maneuvering you to face him as he brought your hips down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. You screamed hoarsely, cunt spasming from overstimulation as Gojo laughed roughly, wiping the remainder of his friend’s cum off his lips before positioning himself behind you. 

The white-haired man watched greedily as you bounced on Geto’s cock, taking a minute to lean back and stroke his dick until he was fully erect. Gojo pulled your hips back, stilling Geto’s thrusts, and he growled in response.

“Gotta let me in too,” Gojo chided, swiping a finger over his fat tip to coat it with pre-cum as he positioned it against your other hole. Your eyes widened, and you gasped as he started to push into you, stretching you slowly but mercilessly. Geto pulled you in for a ravenous kiss, devouring your litany of moans as he struggled to keep from thrusting into you. After a small eternity, both men were seated fully inside you, and you whined their names over and over like a prayer, begging them to start moving. 

“Toru, Sugu… nnnnhgh, ‘m so full,” you cried, leaning your head against Geto’s shoulder as the two men cradled you in their arms. Their hands roamed over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you as they began to move, stretching your body past the very limits of pleasure. Your eyes glazed over; you couldn’t tell who was kissing your neck versus who was rubbing achingly soft circles on your clit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the two men brought you to climax again and again.

Soft rays of dawn were peeking through your bedroom window by the time the three of you fell onto your bed, breathing hard but finally sated. You looked around at the sheets and at your lovers, blushing hotly at the dried red marks that covered almost every surface in the room. The towels had not lasted long.

Geto chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, “We’ll clean up. Don’t worry.” 

“And we’ll prepare better for next time,” Gojo added with a grin, poking your cheek. 

Your whole body felt like jelly, but the two men were determined to care for you properly. Suguru walked into the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of water filling your bathtub as Satoru fetched a glass of water for you, helping you sit up to drink properly. He scooped you up, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he walked you into the bathroom, depositing you in the warm water. The three of you washed each other in blissful silence, with both men being extra attentive to your sore body. Afterward, they changed your sheets and put you in clean pajamas, slipping their own sweatpants on to climb into bed next to you. 

“Thank you…” You murmured, already drifting off to sleep between your two lovers. 

Geto kissed your temple silently as Gojo laughed softly, “Of course. We have to take good care of our girl, after all.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @cindyneko-strider @unoriginalidea @eldritchbeauty @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @pseudowho

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Old writing especially on Bo's and then Vincent's part. I realised that I was writing as if their s/o showcased their strength during later on into their relationship in the first three slashers, apologies.

A/n: I am no longer writing for Hannibal or any hannibal characters as I myself have forgotten my own perspective of them.

Slashers x reader who's stronger than them but doesn't look like it!

Warnings: blood and death on the ghostface duos part, very slight mentions of nsfw. But mostly fluff.

Slashers in this: Bo sinclair, Vincent sinclair and Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (poly)

Relationship: romantic!!

Bo

It clawed at his ego, he's a pretty mean bastard and you know it 🫵.

He first thought of you as the most fragile and weakest person ever (and cutest), I mean, could you even lift a pot half filled with water?

Undoubtedly he used this assumption to 'help you' or more so at times tease you. He loves seeing your reactions and most definitely not because you're so small and kind to him, pfff of course not.

He just absolutely loves lifting you up and over his shoulder and he's definitely an ass guy. He loves ogling and smacking your ass but he won't get to that level until many many months later on. But he's still going to stare.

“Oh Bo, I think there's a rabbit under the truck!” You exclaimed to Bo as you noticed something white and moving below.

"An animal? *sighs* hold on, I'll get rid of that p-" He suddenly loses his ability to formulate words as he witnesses you lift the goddamn fuckin truck with one arm, and indeed there was a rabbit underneath.

“*gasp* it's so cute!” Bo cannot believe what he just saw. Damn, he gotta stop smoking so much it's messing with his brain. He's just staring at you as you pet the timid rabbit with your 'scrawny' arm.

He must admit he does fantasize about you lifting him up and shit, or topping him in bed. Whatever he's feeling that day, and he would rather swallow sand than ever admit that last part.... But y'know if you're up for it-

His cocky and prideful attitude seemingly making an apparent change, he would hold a cup or item you need above your head with a shit eating grin watching you get frustrated with him. Or when he would make jabs about you being too weak to lift three chairs at a time and would offer to help you. (So he could walk beside you.) But now... He still fucking makes jabs at you being weak, just to fuck with you even though he knows it's far from the truth. He loves making you seem like the little helpless princess and him being the asshole shining knight in armor.

You wouldn't mind tho would you? It's a win-win, you get to spend more time with your boyfriend and he gets to spend time with his girlfriend.

Vincent

So gentle and caring with you. He's gentle and caring with whoever he is with but your size just makes him think one wrong move and he's accidentally breaking your arm. And cause of this he can't help but be a worry wart at times and way too protective. Not budging even if you reassure him you're perfectly capable of doing something that requires strength.

During one of the dark evenings you walk with your lover in the forest, the side of the forest where there isn't roadkill so that you can breathe without torturing your nostrils. And finding some fire wood to spend the next dark hours star gazing and ranting to him while the sound of the fire crinkling and burning the wood serves as a nice background music.

Every step you take you hear the crunch of the dead leaves get crushed under your foot, both of you holding your flashlights. You have the warm and slightly calloused hand of your Vincent holding yours affectionately as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand and knuckles, gently tracing over and feeling the ridges and bumps.

You notice some fallen bark and shine your flashlight on it. "Vinny, look there's some firewood over there!" You exclaimed and shined your flashlight elsewhere, looking around more until you had shined it directly on a tree right in front of you that was occupied by a scary looking arachnid, its front limbs moving in a sluggish and relaxed fashion.

You let out a startled yelp and out of instinct your fist went to swing at the spider who somehow successfully managed to not get hit in the nick of time. This also startled your boyfriend who looked worriedly at you, his eyes scanned over to see that you were.. Fine! But the tree you punched wasn't. It has a big dent in it while the flesh of wood was cracked and damaged severely around the impact along with many splinters.

"I'm so sorry Vincent! There was a spider and I got scared!"

He almost let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn't anything serious but he can't get his eyes and mind off the injured tree. Did you... seriously do that? He gently took your hand and examined it, it seemed perfectly fine except for redness, light bleeding and a couple splinters on your knuckles.

He slowly raised one of his hands, pointing towards the punched tree. 'Did you do that?' Is what's probably going through his head. You chuckled sheepishly and nodded in confirmation. He sighed. For now, he'll worry about your fist.

Does this interaction change how he treats you?... Kind of. He isn't too pushy as he was since he now knows how capable you are of handling yourself but there's still that feeling in him, something that gnaws at his inner core for him to help you. He wants to feel useful and to serve you in any way he can, so...please let him dote over you still..? (Of course you will, you can't say no to him.)

If you want to pick him up he'll entertain you, though he'll be extremely flustered and giddy about it. He likes this way more than he should (in his opinion). How comical is it? He's a large 6'1 grown man being carried princess style by his tiny s/o. Despite all this, he still hopes you need him as much as he needs you.

Thomas

Trust me when I saw it really took Thomas by surprise. He's a really big guy and you say this little thing is stronger than him? Oh please, humor him after dinner.

He's a busy man with a lot on his plate, and you seemingly looking like the most harmless person in the world doesn't help, he constantly feels like he has to tend to you and supervise you from a certain officer.

Will usually not allow you to help him when he's working, it depends. He feels guilty letting yourself get caught up with all this but if you insist he'll gladly accept the extra hand with honest gratitude. But generally- 'Back away honey, you might get dirty.' Is what he wishes he could say.

In his eyes you're a saint, an angel. Made perfectly to fit in the space between his thighs he's sitting down and there's no flaw in the way his large hands cups your cheeks with those pretty eyes of yours staring into his – no room for mistake or complain. You're adorable.

The first time he allowed you to help him you admire your handsome behemoth of a lover chopping wood. Appreciating the rolled up sleeved that gave you a good view of his arms, his muscles flexing as he brought the axe down – after he was done with the first small batch of logs you hurried to grab the others.

Tommy watched with amusement and adoration before shifting his weight to help you but stopped as you started walking towards him five logs resting effortlessly in your arms. It didn't even seem to faze you as if it was just you were only a bunch of baby ducks.

Tommy watched in silence as you laid them out on the table, still kind of processing it before nodding his head in gratitude and resuming to chopping them up. He'll bring this up later, maybe. For now he'll focus on getting his work done and spending more with you, and your soft words.

He doesn't really care if you're stronger than him or not, as long as you love him and don't try to run away it's all good. If you want he'll stop trying to do everything for you even though he knows you don't need any assistance – he's so used to working around the house he feels restless not doing anything at all.

If you want to carry him, do it. He's all yours but please do it in private he won't be able to handle the embarrassment if his family sees it. And although he prefers to be the dom he doesn't mind it if you wanna take charge every once in a while and throw him around.

Plus, it creates something pleasantly warm in his stomach.

Michael.

He thinks he's going insane. (He already has.)

He's Michael Myers, the most ruthless killer Illinois has ever seen for the past decades. And you're saying this small creature that he's inhabited has greater strength than him... Yeah, no.

And then he sees you picking up three bodies out of the house with your bare hands while cleaning up the evidence of his the murder he left, quietly observing you. He won't admit it but it kind of irks him. He's supposed to be the one with power in this relationship and quite frankly he doesn't know the true extent to your power.

He warms up to it eventually – although it's more of he doesn't give a fuck anymore. You're not completely weak and helpless? Great, he doesn't have to worry about you as much. Key word: as much. He still does worry a lot when you're out for long hours – he's not worried you're injured or in danger (not anymore) but more as in you're not leaving him, right? Or ratting him out to the police?

Do not ever attempt to pick him up or anything even remotely close to that unless you want a glare from those void, soul-less eye sockets of his mask Or if you want a love tap on the head and cheek. If you give him enough guilty smiles and let go of him he'll let you off the hook. if not, bear the consequences. (They don't even do anything anyways, lmao)

He feels so incredibly annoyed when you start treating him like a child, telling him to go sit down or lie down in bed after he pulled a few all nighters and the fact you successfully manage to pull him back into bed: God dammit, why the hell are you even so strong and you're so small!? Grumpily he does stay put but only if you're with him too.

A man feared by hundreds, if not thousands because of the sheer power and mercilessness he leaves in trails of every step he takes in public... And then there's you, you're half his size and you have more control over him than he'd like. He'd never kill you though, not intentionally, but that will also most likely not happen.

Speaking of killing, don't think he won't murder someone if they attempt to hurt you and gets their ass kicked by you anyways. You attack, he lands the finishing blow. Don't protest, he won't listen.

Billy n' Stu

They're both pretty lean so you can believe it, if not for your given figure. They both adore it, so who cares? Billy and Stu will, eventually.

It was in the heat of the moment, you tell yourself but you remember in vivid detail the day where you saw the bloody escaping victim running towards you – adrenaline pumping in your veins, your mind immediately went into fight mode and swung a fist at their skull. You remember the sickening crunch as blood slowly pooled from their fractured cranium when they lifelessly fell down to the floor.

They first helped you with the lingering guilt first before Stu started annoying you.

''Can you punch me like that next but with a bit less-''

"No!"

Alright, no worries but now he's asking you to lift him up to reach things that he does not need help on. Maybe even just carry him and run around the house. (Don't be fooled, he just wants to be carried around like a child again.) Fluttering his eyelids at you and holding up a jar of pickles. 'Y/n, I can't get this to open!' Yes he can.

Billy, although tries to act neutral but can't help but let his thoughts wander. 'Wow... Strong girl... Can choke me...' He thinks to himself as he watches you and Stu. Not as if he'd ever admit that. He pretends he's disinterested in getting in your arms - no, he just doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But if you persist he'll begrudgingly agree. He indeed liked it.

Stu obviously takes a positive reaction, he loves getting dominated. You can take that however you like. Billy on the other hand feels conflicted, if he's not stronger than you then how will he stop you if you try to leave them or plan to rat them out? Assuming this is during the beginning of your relationship. But overtime the more he takes a good look at your face those thoughts will slowly drown away, there's no way you would, right?

The slashers will probably swoon if you agree to help them place the bodies where they want them to, like hanging them in the trees or something.

Billy keeps it more lowkey. Preferring to keep you in his lap and rest his chin on top of your head. Stu takes your strength to his advantage. When he gets drunk he'll whine and ask you to carry him to bed, and take his socks off. Annoying fuck but you love him either way. And Billy too.

[distantdarlings]

SPEAK OF THE DEVIL // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* During an after-game Quidditch party, Theo approaches you, intending on reconnecting with his on-and-off ex, you. You are not interested, at least, not originally. He quickly changes your mind, though, just as he always does.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, Language, slight praise kink, fem reader, slight begging, slight resistance from reader at first, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Half of My Heart - Josh Makazo

---

The wind rushed against the Quidditch stands, blowing the team flags up and around the stadium. You gasped and ducked as one flew right over the Slytherin stands. Next to you, Pansy burst out laughing as you helped each other to your feet. It had narrowly missed her, as well. 

“That was insane!” she laughed. The two of you huddled together in an attempt to pool some warmth between the two of you, to no avail. It had to be close to below freezing. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sky started dropping snow soon, and with the blanketed, gray light overhead, you figured that would be happening rather quickly.

Around you, shivering students chanted a few cheers for the Slytherin team, ensuring that the shitty weather could never get them down. Even the Gryffindor team had dampened a bit, but not the Slytherins. A prideful smile beamed on your face. Pansy and you joined in the hooting and hollering.

Overhead, three green jerseys swooped downward, causing several students to duck again. You thought you heard a few professors gasp over the cheers. Once the players had passed over the students, you saw them split and tackle different sides of the pitch. This was a strategic maneuver to get the Gryffindor beaters away from their seeker so the Slytherin seeker could focus solely on catching the Snitch. Anticipation burned in the air as the tension between the two teams swelled at this tactic. Merlin, you loved Quidditch. Who didn’t?

And in a matter of a few minutes, the Slytherin players had successfully deflected the Gryffindor Beaters’ attempt to ward them off, sacked a couple bludgers toward their Seeker, and allowed their Seeker enough time to spot the Snitch and soar after it. By the time he had caught the small, golden thing and dived back down into the main part of the pitch, the roar of the Slytherin crowd was deafening. You could barely feel your fingers or toes, but you couldn’t care less. Slytherin had won, which meant that the aftergame party was going to be fun. 

The group of green-clad students began to pour out of the stands and toward the common room as the Quidditch players exited the field. Pansy ranted back and forth with you on the strategies used in this evening’s game. You laughed and teased the whole way back. The two of you had discussed outfits for hours after classes had ended today and, thanks to your obvious inability to remain realistic in your expectations, had set out your selected clothing for the party. In your minds, there was no way Slytherin wouldn’t win tonight, and you had been right. 

Once back in the common room, students were flashing up the stairs, running to grab their outfits and stashed bottles of firewhisky, amongst other stashed things, so generously donated by the Hufflepuffs. The two of you giggled as you made your way into your dorm room, quickly shutting the door behind you. A few of your other roommates had already returned and were changing. The group of you squealed in excitement, ramping each other up. You all had plans for the evening, ones that had been discussed over secretive shots the night before. 

Your plan was to find a bit of a distraction tonight. In the last year, you and your ex-boyfriend, Theodore Nott, had bounced on and off with each other. No matter how many times you had called it quits, you kept finding yourself back in his bed, beneath his strong, warm—

“Hey, come on!” Pansy shook you. “Get dressed!” You laughed along with her and began pulling your heavy winter clothing off. This was going to be a night to remember for all of the right reasons, not because of Theo. 

You selected the dress you’d reserved especially for this party and slid it over your body, letting it fall down the expanse of your hips. Pansy appeared behind you to zip it up, marveling at its gorgeous design: a small black thing with a high neck and no sleeves. Perfect for the evening, in your opinion. You slipped into the black heels you’d picked out last night and pulled a necklace over your head. It was silvered with an ornate snake carved into the charm at the bottom of the chain. Nothing wrong with a little bit of house pride.

“Okay, let’s head down!” Pansy announced to the others in the room. The small group gathered closer and filed out the door. You gathered the larger group of students in the hallway filtering through the passageway and into the common room. Like magic, it had transformed into a gorgeous scene of celebratory banners and music. You poured into the enormous amount of students, all dispersing randomly. Pansy squeezed your hand politely before briefly leaving you to go find someone.

You pushed through the crowd, feeling the bass of the music pound in your chest. Excitement built in your chest, pushing small pants out of your lips. Your mind was set on finding someone new tonight and the anticipation of getting to know someone like you had once known Theo made your heart flutter. Then again, no one had ever known you better than he had. His hands had traveled every inch of your body and learned you so personally as if he had sculpted you. 

“Looking for someone?” A sly whisper appeared in your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of the voice so close to you. You turned and came face-to-face with Theo. Speak of the Devil…You rolled your eyes and turned, intending to leave him behind. You weren’t doing this. His hand gripped your arm roughly, his eyes dark and needy when they found yours. Shit.

Your body slammed against the door of his dorm. You moaned loudly into his mouth as his hands ran smoothly up and down your body. Sculpting you, shaping you, just like always. Nobody’s hands compared to his. His fingers trailed up the outsides of your thighs, slipping slyly beneath the material of your dress. 

Suddenly, he ripped the material up and over your hips. You gasped at the sudden movement, hissing as he bit down onto your bottom lip. Your hand slapped against his chest as a blossom of pain spurted against your teeth. He mumbled a breathy apology against your mouth before resuming his previous activities. His fingers curled beneath the thin waistband of your panties, slowly tugging them higher and higher. The material of the undergarment pressed against your core, eliciting a spark of pleasure behind your eyes. Your hands tightened in his hair. 

“Mm,” you pulled away from his lips, “we shouldn’t be doing this.” You struggled to get the words out around his insistent kisses. Every syllable you spoke was lost against his rough lips, marking every inch of your own. “Theo, you know we’re just going to regret it.” Yet you didn’t stop kissing him back. You couldn’t stop. His taste, his touch, his smell…It was addicting, and pushed more heat between your thighs than anyone else ever could.  

“Tell me to stop, then,” he mumbled into another kiss.

“What?” His lips separated from yours and began to trail down your neck. The cleavage parted in your dress granted him just enough access for his teeth to scrape the soft flesh of your breasts. A silent moan parted your lips as you leaned your head back against the door. His large hands held you firmly in place. His head began to move past your chest. As he lowered to his knees before you, his fingers slipped into the sleeves of your dress, wrapping tightly in the material. As he dropped before you, he roughly tugged the garment down over you. You yelped as your chest was exposed to the cold air. Your dress remained scrunched up around your waist as one of his hands traced delicately over your clothed core and the other massaged your left breast. You couldn’t contain your moans any longer. 

“Teddy,” you moaned breathlessly, letting your favorite nickname for him paint the walls of the room. You never called him that unless he was pleasuring you in some way and, fuck, was he ever doing exactly that. 

You ground your hips against his fingers, trying to gather a bit of friction against yourself. Just as you’d come into contact with his perfect fingers, he pulled away. He smirked devilishly at the whine that fell from your lips.

“Should I stop, baby?” he murmured against your lips. “Don’t want you to regret me…” He laid an open-mouthed kiss to the outside of your left thigh, maintaining darkened eye contact with you. 

“No, don’t stop, please baby,” you begged, your hands curling in his hair. You tried to push him closer to you, to press his face to you. But you couldn’t, he was much too strong. 

He got to his feet, pressing his face closely against your ear, his lips brushing against you. A shudder fell down your spine as your knees weakened.

“Beg for it,” he whispered. He pressed small kisses to your jaw, reiterating he wanted to hear you beg until you finally caved.

“Ugh, please, Teddy,” you whined, bucking your hips against his, eyes rolling back at the contact it made. “Please fuck me, baby. ‘ve missed you so fucking bad.” A smirk fell on his face as he lifted you into his arms, wrapping your thick thighs around his waist. Your mouths found each other again and he claimed every inch of your tongue as his own. 

“Always miss me, baby?” he breathed into your mouth. “Think about this sweet mouth every day.” His hand gripped your jaw, holding it perfectly still. He walked the two of you away from the door and laid you against his bed, careful to set you down gently. 

“Raise your hips,” he instructed. You did so, allowing him to slip the rest of your dress off your body. The only thing left on you was your thin underwear, already soaked through with your arousal. You shook in anticipation as his fingers slowly glided against your naked thighs. Your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. They crush down on it until you taste metal, the reddened material painting your lips.

“So pretty,” he moaned, pressing his mouth to yours. His spit mixed with your blood, his tongue carving a new taste against you.

His hands, rushed and rough, tore through your panties with strong, mean fingers. You whimpered against his lips at the sudden action. The tips of his fingers slid against your core, tracing your wetness all around you. Your head pushed back, separating your lips.

“Turn around,” he said. “Now.” You nodded your head and promptly obeyed, flipping yourself over. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked your ass into the air. Your teeth closed around your folded arms, trying your best to keep your noises to a minimum.

Behind you, you could hear him undoing his trousers and pulling them down. The bed creaked and shifted as he got to his feet and slid them all the way off. Your hips swayed impatiently, waiting to feel his touch again, desperate to feel it. 

“Please, Teddy,” you whined, spreading your legs even wider. You could feel the wetness from your core sliding down between your thighs, slowly coating his comforter. No one had an effect on you like this. 

It never mattered who you were with. If they had magic fingers, the perfect mouth, none of them compared to Theo. Traits as simple as his voice had your legs pressing together, from the very moment you’d met him. The very first time he touched you had been imprinted in your mind, tracing your eyelids every time you closed them. 

His fingers brushed against your entrance, sending shocks of fire through your body. You gasped and tightened your fingers painfully hard in his sheets. Merlin, this was where you were meant to be. Pressed into his mattress, inhaling his scent, his body claiming yours. Fuck, you were pathetic. 

His hands wrapped around your hips, carefully lining himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing himself into you. Sharp heat split through your body, carving a line down your abdomen. It had been a while, but you hadn’t expected yourself to be so tightened up. Your muscles tensed roughly until he bottomed out with a breathless groan. You relaxed into the bed, barely holding yourself up. He gave you a minute, then two, until you nodded your head, eyes clenched and wanting. The two of you knew each other so perfectly well, no words needed to be spoken. He knew every inch of your body better than you knew it, yourself. His tongue and his fingers and every part of him knew you better than anyone else and he took you as such. He began to move.

The feeling of him moving himself back and forth, traced every part of you from the inside to the out. Your lips parted in a silent scream, relishing in the sensation you’d missed so dearly, that no one else could recreate. You could tell he felt the same way. A brief glance back revealed a flushed, pleasured Theo; his lips parted, musical grunts leaving his throat, his eyes fluttering shut. You’d have never known what he looked like if you hadn’t looked back, because he tended to be the “big man” in bed, always doling out your pleasure and keeping face. He wasn’t such a big man, you realized smugly, you were the same drug to him, as he was to you. A particularly sharp thrust had shoved a scream through your lips.

His hands slid up from your hips and found your chest. He swiftly pulled you up and against his chest, his sticky skin melding with yours. His hips never faltered and the change in position had him hitting new parts of you. His lips were against your ear, whispering sweet nothings and kissing the areas surrounding.

“Feel good, baby?” he groaned. You nodded weakly. “Yeah, baby, yeah?” His pace fastened, the speed working you towards the end of all things. Your breaths came out in short, hot pants. His fingers curved over your chest, tracing the tips of your breasts, forcing your end closer and closer. You tightened around him at your fast-approaching finish. He groaned at the sensation.

“Mmm, missed this fucking cunt, baby,” he grunted out. “Always squeezing me so well.” His lips pressed to your neck, creating a tight suction with his teeth anywhere he could. The bruises he left there were going to remain for days, alerting all who spotted them that you were his and no one else’s. The thought was enough to push you over the edge. You came around him hard. 

The sensation of your finish pushed him against his, which he announced with one more whiny moan and shaking thighs. His hot release painted every inch of your insides, soothing the rough force with which he’d fucked you.

The two of you collapsed against the bed, side-by-side, and watched each other with heavily-lidded eyes. And once again, you realized, the two of you were back in the same position you always were. The regret hadn’t yet had time to bury itself into your stomachs, and the guilt hadn’t made its way to your hearts yet, but in the few hours after, you’d graced each other with immeasurable pleasure; that was your favorite. His thumb traced gently over your lips, shaking slightly with the afterglow of your love. 

[strawberriesoup]

umbrella٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A sudden storm causes your evening plans with Jisung to be canceled.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff/angst, jisung x female reader, established relationship, comfort

warnings: cursing, crying, reader has a hard time vocalizing her feelings, kisses, super fluffy, jisung is best boyfriend, hugs

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Normally, the slight pitter patter of rain tapping at your window wouldn’t bother you so much. The droplets racing down the glass were usually your cue to brew up some tea and clear your mind whilst watching the headlights of cars whoosh by on the street far below.

Right now your mind is anything but clear. You pull your hand away from the window, leaving a print of condensation behind as the chill in the air picks up, warning of the upcoming storm.

If nothing else, the weather instills in you a newfound hate for the weatherman and his deceitful games.

Why did everything have to go wrong? First your dinner plans with Jisung were canceled because of “renovations” and now this? The forecast predicts thunderstorms the rest of the day and through the night as well. The rain and your mood are getting worse by the minute.

You miss him. You just want to see him. Is that really too much to ask? But the universe— like always—has different plans.

It was about two months now since you had met Jisung. You had been thirsting over his best friend, Minho, and Jisung had stepped in as your wingman. Needless to say, you weren’t so interested in Minho anymore after getting to know Jisung.

Technically, you met him at a party — said party you had only attended to stalk Minho— so your first impressions of Jisung were understandably questionable. Come to find out later that his friend group forced him there and he’s actually just a cheesecake-loving homebody who’s afraid of pigeons (“Those damn birds know too much”) and likes the show Nana a little more than he probably should.

He’s cute as hell though.

Your couch squeaks as you throw yourself down on it. That stupid squeaking. It incites more violence in you than it probably should, and you take that as a sign to take a deep breath and try to think positively.

Unfortunately you just end up thinking of Jisung and how, if he were here, he would be able to cheer you up with one of his stupid jokes and that goddamn pretty smile. Ugh.

Should you call him? Would asking him to come over be too much? It was raining exponentially hard and he probably wouldn’t want to bother. There’s always another day. But still. Your mind is hyper-fixated on the thought of him, his presence, his laughter, the way his eyes seem to sparkle when he rants about his latest obsession…

Fuck this. You’ll just go over to his place.

By now, the downpour is in full swing and practically roaring against the side of the building, the sound blocking out even the rush of traffic building on the road below. You feel a chill run through your limbs at the thought of trekking through that mess with only your umbrella as a shield.

Through the clamor of the rain outside, you swear you hear a soft knocking. Are you imagining things? You must be. It was probably just thunder.

After a beat, you hear the knocking again. Louder this time.

Yeah, that was definitely your door. You jump up from the couch, heart leaping hopefully into your throat as you rush to unlock the door. It can’t be.

It was.

There stands Jisung, sporting a soaked umbrella, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and a grin.

You must stare at him with an open mouth for longer than you thought because his brows furrow and he bursts out into a laugh.

“No ‘Hi Jisung’? No ‘Oh, how I missed you, I’m so glad you’re here Jisung’?”

He wraps his arms around you, his soaked umbrella thumping against your back. You return the hug tightly, coming back to your senses. He’s here! Wait, he’s actually here? The dots don’t seem to connect in your mind, but the arms around you, slowly rocking you back and forth in a warm embrace finally convince your stubborn mind that this is real.

“You came? But—“

“Yeah, duh! The rain’s pretty crazy isn’t it? Still sucks we couldn’t go to dinner, but look I brought snacks!”

He pulls away from you to shake the plastic convenience store bag in front of your face and sets it on the counter, the contents spilling out over the surface. All your favorite snacks. You feel tears prick at your eyes.

No. You are not going to cry right now. You clench your fists by your sides, trying to will the tears back into your skull. Unaware of your internal conflict, Jisung hums absentmindedly to himself while he shrugs off his drenched jacket and stows away his umbrella on the rack by the door.

“So what are we thinking?” Jisung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “Youtube? Card game?” He turns his attention towards you. The second he sees you, his eyes widen in confusion. Are you okay? What happened?

Before he has a chance to ask anything, the dam cracks and you break down into tears.

He’s right there by your side, following you down to the floor and kneeling in front of you. He takes your hand between both of his own.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Can you tell me?” He speaks in such a soft tone, but the worry in his voice leaks through. It just makes you sob harder. You bury your face in your knees. Stop crying. Stop it right now, this is ridiculous.

He squeezes your hand before flattening your clenched fist and kissing your palm. He lingers there for a moment, a warm and steady presence, while you collect yourself.

Eventually, you bring yourself to meet his eyes. His eyes flitter between your own, laced with obvious concern. Which makes sense because who in their right mind just breaks down sobbing with zero explanation as soon as their boyfriend walks in the door.

“I.. It’s just— I can’t believe you actually came here. To.. to see me. It’s— I don’t know, it’s really not a big deal I’m so sorry—” You stammer pathetically between gasps, wiping your tears on your shirt sleeve. Damn it. Why can’t you just pull your self together?

“Shhh. It’s okay, just take your time. I’m listening.” He soothes, pressing his mouth against your knuckles. You can feel his teeth through the soft skin of his lip as his breath ghosts across your skin.

“I just missed you.” You finish plainly.

It’s true, you did miss him. But you can’t quite bring yourself to say the whole truth. You want to tell him how much him showing up means to you. You want to thank him for actually caring about you and wanting to be around you, even if that means he has to go out of his way to achieve that. Nobody had ever treated you this way before. They wanted you when you were convenient. When you were easy.

Jisung just isn’t like that. How could you think otherwise?

Jisung huffs out a fond laugh at your answer and breaks into a half smile. By the knowing look in his eye, you can tell he understands you without words.

“Yeah, well, I missed you too. Come here.” He folds you into his chest, one hand behind your head and the other tracing circles across your back. You could stay here like this with him forever. Except that you might be getting snot on his shirt right now.

“Hold on, I really need a tissue,”you admit, pulling away from him and giggling. You excuse yourself to the bathroom while Jisung gasps and dramatically “ewwwuhh”s after you.

You avoid making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror as you blow your nose. Eventually, you glance up to take in your appearance. God. You look a mess. Your puffy red eyes squinting back at you agree. You rinse your face with some cold water just for good measure.

After you had taken care of business, you emerge from the bathroom to find Jisung sprawled out on your couch, limbs dangling about haphazardly. When he spots you, he pouts and makes grabby hands.

Mock rolling your eyes, you go over and lay on top of him, your couch complaining at the added weight. Straddling your legs, you place both of your arms around his head, cradling it. The feeling of his body underneath yours, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the curve of his waist, It just feels right. Like it should always be this way.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, huh?” Jisung teases. He cocks an eyebrow at you and makes a kissy face. You cant help but laugh while you grab his face between your palms.

“And so what if I do? Huh?” The grin is evident in your voice as you dip down to give him a peck on the lips. It proves to be a little difficult to give a proper kiss to someone who is giggling through their nose and fighting back a smile. You kiss him once, twice, three times.

“You know,” you comment, “this would be easier if you just stayed still—“ Jisung abruptly surges upwards into a sitting position, nearly bonking his head against yours in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap while his hands shift to support your thighs.

Eyes brimming with admiration, he simply stares at you for a moment. Taking in everything that makes you, you. You’re perfect. And he wants nothing more than for you to just be able to see what he sees.

He leans in, slowly closing the gap between you two. You feel your heart skip as you lean to meet him, your eyes fluttering shut.

A bright flash blinds you and before you could even draw in a gasp, a deafening crack of thunder consumes your senses.

You can feel Jisung jump beneath you, his hands tightening around your thighs. Both of you pull away from each other in shock. He stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, looking so genuinely frazzled that you break into a fit of laughter and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He laughs breathlessly in shock for a few moments, hand coming up to his heart to ground himself.

“You good?” You lean back and brush his back the hair that had fallen in his face, peering into his eyes.

“Mhm!” Jisung nods with a tight-mouthed smile, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Awhhh my poor babyy,” You coo, returning to your previous position and rocking him back and forth.

Eventually, you two settle into a comfortable position on the couch. You had tucked yourself into Jisung’s side, resting your head on his chest. He had recovered from his little heart attack and is now rambling on about the lore of Hollow Knight, with the steady beat of the ever-pounding storm at your walls as accompaniment. You sigh in contentment, bathing in the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Jisung?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”

[heartsforvin]

Hi, could you please do an imagine where reader colors vinnie’s tattoos, please

COLOR IN THE LINES

this is ADORABLE thank you for the request !!

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; cussing, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc), otherwise just fluff

summary; you love to color in vinnie’s tattoos

one of your favorite things to do when you and vinnie have a day together is to lay in his bed, legs entangled with each other, while you lay on his chest and color in his tattoos.

you bought washable markers that won’t damage skin specifically for this. vinnie realized early on in your relationship that this was one of the many things that made you calmer.

walking into vinnie’s room, you greet him with a smile before quickly heading to his bathroom.

“hello to you too, princess.” vinnie says under his breath as he watches you sprint to his bathroom.

you walk out a few minutes later with a smile. vinnie watches as you walk around to the other side of his bed and pull open the nightstand drawer.

he smiles when he realizes what you’re grabbing. he quickly removes his sweatshirt so he’s only in sweatpants now.

you hop up on the bed and vinnie widens his legs for you to kneel in between him.

you start to shade in his most recent tattoo, it has healed so it was perfectly okay to color it in by now.

you hold onto his arm while you shade in the tattoo right below the one you just finished.

once done, you kiss his arm, making vinnie smile. “what’s that for?” he asks you.

you shrug with a tight lipped smile. “i love you, that’s what it was for.”

vinnie watches you in pure awe as you do the one thing you love most. he pushes some hair behind your ear and kisses your temple softly.

“have i ever told you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world?” the compliment makes you stop abruptly.

he in fact has told you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. he tells you everyday.

a slight blush creeps up on your cheeks, you’re grinning ear to ear at the boy in front of you. your boy.

“i had a really bad day, v,” you breathe out, almost wanting to cry at the thought. “that means a lot, no matter how much you tell me.”

vinnie takes the washable marker out of your hand and caps it before putting it on his bed. he takes your hands in his and looks at you.

“what happened?” he asked you with pure sincerity.

you sighed, hoping that no tears rush out of your eyes as you explain to vinnie about your day. he grabs you and places you in his lap, hugging you tightly as he leaves kisses all around your face.

“people at work, mainly customers. they’re all fuckin’ idiots.” you rant.

vinnie lets out a laugh, he grabs your arms and rubs his hands down them gently. “shh,” he tries to calm you.

grabbing the marker off vinnie’s bed, you pop the cap off and begin to color in vinnie’s ‘break my heart’ tattoo on his chest.

he knows this calms you most so he doesn’t ask why you ignored him. he moves his hands so they’re around your waist now, holding you gently.

“gotta get you a coloring book, sweet girl.” vinnie says softly as he watches you move down to the tattoos on his lower stomach.

you giggle as you shade in the tattoo on his right side. “i like using you as my personal coloring book, though.”

as much as you’d love a coloring book, you’ve been using vinnie’s ink as one for awhile now, and don’t think switching to paper would help calm you as much as this does.

vinnie doesn’t mind, though. as much as it hurts him to see you upset or stressed, he loves the way coloring in his tattoos helps you so much.

“i know you do baby, and i love it too. but i wouldn’t mind getting you your own book for it.” he tells you.

your eyes immediately shoot up to his, he watches your demeanor change and soon rubs your back and places a soft kiss to your cheek.

“i’m sorry, princess,” he apologizes once he realizes that’s not what you want at all. “didn’t mean to upset you.”

you smile slightly at your boyfriend before moving to his arm, shading in more ink on his skin.

you’re quiet for the rest of the time until you finally finish all the tattoos on the front side of his body.

capping the marker, you put it back in the box before putting the box back in the nightstand drawer.

“how’d i do?” you ask with a smile, standing next to vinnie with your hands on your hips.

he stands and pulls you to his bathroom so he can take a full look. once he sees your art, he smiles.

“you did amazing, sweetheart,” he kisses you. “my little artist.”

you smile and hug vinnie from the side, gripping his waist and soon turning so your body’s pressed against him. chest to chest, you smile at your boyfriend while he looks down at you.

“thank you for understanding and letting me do that.” you tell him, standing on your tip toes to kiss him.

vinnie wraps his arms around you tightly in a hug. “i’m here for you, my love,” he says. “always.”

you and vinnie stay like that for awhile before heading back into vinnie’s room for the night. vinnie picks up his hoodie but you quickly swatted his hand.

he chuckles as he faces towards you. “like me without a shirt that much, huh?” he teases.

you hit his chest and climb into his bed. “get over here dork,” you tell him. “yes i do, but i like looking at my coloring more. first time i actually colored in the lines.”

vinnie laughs as he gets in beside you. he lays down and scoots you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into him.

the rest of the day you spend snuggled up to vinnie as the two of you watch movies.

you run your hand along vinnie’s chest and stomach, admiring your coloring work, being grateful you have the most understanding boyfriend.

hiii finally back to posting !!! i hope you all loved this as much as i loved writing it !! and i hope the anon who requested this did as well !!

like i said in my most recent post, work for me has been busy since i got back - and although i don’t post while im at work, i am still a bit active w my moots. i’m trying my best to stay active but my personal & physical wellbeing come first so if im inactive w uploads, just gimme time 🥹

I LOVE YOU ALL THOUGH !! thank you for all the continuation of the support / feedback on my posts <333

tags; @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @slvthrs , @forevergirlposts , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @kriissy4gov , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld , @violet0182 , @visualbutterflysworld , @laylasbunbunny , @kayleiggh , @supabhad

[im-ovulating]

can i request a yandere izuku x fem reader where he sees her talking to another guy so later in bed he gets realllly possessive

(A/n: Kinktober Day 12/15! 3 more daysssss!!!!! I haven't really dabbled in writing yandere content, so forgive me if it's not the best. Also, it wasn't specified if you wanted a soft or traditional yandere, so I went traditional, hence the warnings. If it is too much for you, Anon, I apologize. Just let me know and I will rewrite it as soft yandere.)

This fic got really dark, really fast. If you are uncomfortable reading about nonconsensual acts and rape (as is commonplace within the yandere scene), this is your first warning. If you read the official warnings below, continue to the story and then get triggered, that is on you, not on me. There is ample warning and a cut-off that you have to click on in order to access the story to keep accidental triggers from happening. Know your limits and curate your own internet experience. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Word Count: 2,956

Summary- Why are you talking to him? Is Izuku not enough? He'll show you he's enough... more than enough.

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Stalking, Izuku Tries to Baby Trap Reader, Possessiveness but Not in A Cute Way, Non-Con and, Once Again- Read At Your Own Risk!!

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader: His

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

Izuku sits in the same café chair as usual. His eyes flicker up from his laptop screen, his gaze scanning the coffee shop until it lands on you behind the counter. You – the reason he keeps throwing dollar after dollar away on overpriced coffee and pastries day after day. He’s become a regular fairly quickly.

As he continues to type asway on his laptop, he can’t help but let his stare linger a bit longer than casual. It’s not causal, though, is it? He’s completely added a new stop in his morning routine simply to stalk a girl. He may front that his laptop is for work, but really, he’s using it to take notes on everything his darling does.

He would use his tried-and-true notebook, but he’s learned that it’s way too easy for someone to snatch and read off of and he doesn’t need anyone finding out about this… transgression.

He smiles to himself as you laugh with one of your coworkers – a short, older woman with the beginnings of greying in her otherwise midnight colored hair, aka, she’s not a threat. He’s too far away to hear your conversation, but seeing the way you tilt your head back with that gorgeous smile and laugh is enough. For now.

You notice the green haired man again - Izuku. It’s no surprise, he comes here every morning for an hour or two, He’s always working on his laptop; your guess is either college student or remote worker.

He’s cute. The freckles that dot his face soften his otherwise imposing frame – you swear he must be well over six feet of pure muscle. He’s always been kind, though, if not a little odd. He tends to stumble over his words and rant a bit whenever you talk to him, but you think it’s sweet, like a schoolyard crush.

Today, he’s stayed a bit longer, his coffee long gone as he keeps typing away. To you’re knowledge he hasn’t ordered anything to eat in the few hours that he’s been here, so you decide to take the opportunity to have an excuse talk to him.

You make your way over to the display case and slip some gloves on. Reaching in, you grab a cinnamon roll and place it on a small plate before rounding the counter and making your way over to his table in the corner.

“On the house,” you smile softly, setting the plate next to his laptop.

When his head snaps up to look at you, his face starts to turn a light red. Now he really looks like a strawberry.

“You’ve been here for a while without eating anything and I’m not having you pass out from low blood sugar while I’m on the clock,” you joke lightly, seeing the slight confusion on his face.

He lightly shakes his head, as if to snap himself out of something, before he returns your smile. “O-oh, thank you! But you didn’t have to-”

"It’s no problem,” you assure him. “If you need anything else, just let me know," you say with a wave of your hand before returning to the counter.

Izuku watches as you get swept back up into your work. The older woman you were laughing with earlier lightly swatting your arm with a grin as she glances over at you. Based on the way turn your face down with a shy grin, he can only assume she asked about him. With amusement written clearly on his face, Izuku takes a bite of the still-warm pastry; it practically melts in his mouth, and he thinks that, just maybe, the café’s pricing isn’t as overpriced as he thinks.

No – 8 bucks for a coffee is insane.

The next morning is more of the same: Go to the café, watch you, document down anything new about you, eventually have to leave and go to work.

Except it’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. There’s a man leaning against the counter talking to you when Izuku walks in. He freezes in place, needing a second to process that he is, in fact, seeing this. That this man, who’s not even worthy enough to exist in the same room as you, thinks that he can flirt with you. And that his darling is entertaining it.

He nearly snaps right then and there when he sees the man reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hands curl into fists at his side, the skin pulling taut and pale over his knuckles. How dare this man lay his hands on what is rightfully his? He can feel the possessiveness swelling inside of his, rearing its ugly head back and urging him to march over there and rip the stranger’s hand off of you.

But he doesn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he simply turns back around and exits the café, already coming up with a plan to get rid of this... nuisance.

Entering your bedroom that night, you don’t notice the figure sitting on your bed, shrouded in the darkness of the room. You don’t bother turning the light on yet; you’ve had a long day, and the light would only serve to worsen your headache. You snag some clothes from your closet and head into the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away.

As you shower, you can’t help but feel like something is off, but you ignore it. Surely, it’s just your mind taking advantage of the stress and making you paranoid.

Stepping back into your room as you brush your hair, you finally turn the light on.

You let out a startled yelp as you see him. Sat on your bed, with a dried red substance that can only be one thing on his hands, is Izuku. His forearms are on his knees as he lifts his head to meet your gaze; there’s more of the smeared color on his cheek.

No amount of freckles can soften the look on his face as he glares at you with sharp, green eyes. “I saw you with that man today…”

“You know,” he says, standing from the bed with a slow, predatory grace. “I thought we had something, darling. I thought you understood that you are mine and mine alone.”

He starts to walk towards you. Every step forward, you meet with a step back, repeating this until you realize with horror that your back has hit the wall.

“I-Izuku…” You stammer out, pressing yourself further into the drywall as if you can disappear into it if you will it hard enough. “What are- what are you doing in my house?”

It’s a stupid question, really. He’s spelled it out for you already, so you can guess, but some twisted part in your mind wants to hear him say it, to confirm the worst-case scenarios swirling around your thoughts.

Your eyes flick down to the blood on his hands. You have a feeling you know who it came from. “What did you do to him?” You ask, horrified.

“You know what I did. At least, you know the very least of what I did." Izuku answers. "He touched what’s mine, so I had to… teach... him that it’s rude to touch what’s not his.” Izuku reaches up to cup your cheek, ignoring your harsh flinch as he steps even closer, so your chests nearly touch. “I made sure that he would never bother us again, my darling.”

“You’re insane…” your voice wavers barely above a whisper as your eyes well with tears.

Izuku’s expression darkens as he hears the fear and desperation in your voice. He free hand grabs your arm, holding you tightly in place as his eyes narrow dangerously.

“Insane?” he seethes, his face mere inches from yours. “I’m not the insane one here, Y/n. You are, for thinking you could just replace me with some worthless stranger.”

He leans in closer, the intensity in his gaze almost overwhelming. “I’ve given you everything, Y/n. My heart, my soul, my entire being. And this is how you repay me?”

The hand on your cheek caresses you with a twisted tenderness. “I did this for you. To protect you. To show you that no one else can have you; that no one else deserves you,” his voice calms to a plead. “I’ve watched you, studied you, spent ungodly amounts of money on that damn shop’s subpar coffee… and it was all to ensure that I could mold myself into the perfect man for you…”

You’re stomach drops as you process what he just said.

All of these months, you thought he was just a really dedicated regular. Now you know… He was stalking you…

You’re thoughts travel back to how much he writes on that laptop of his and your legs nearly give. He’s been taking notes on you, studying you like a fucking lab rat, seeing what makes you tick so he could manipulate you into falling for him. Oh god… you think you’re gonna be sick.

“You’re insane…” You repeat, your voice is barely audible over your own thundering pulse. “We were never together! You’re a stalker- a- a murderer…” Your head feels funny and the room is starting to spin.

“How dare you!” Izuku snarls, his voice low and menacing. “You know nothing about what I do! It’s all for you. For us, you stupid girl!” He yanks you closer, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t get away. “I’m your protector. Your savior. And you’re going to learn to love me the way I love you – even if I have to break you.”

He tangles on hand in your hair, tugging the still-damp strands to force you to tilt your head back. He leans down, capturing your lips in a forceful kiss.

The tears are free flowing down your face now; sobs rip from your chest as you desperately try to get away. He tightens his grip on you, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Now, now, my love, there’s no need for all that,” he murmurs into the kiss. “You know you want this just as much as I do.”

You manage to get an arm free and land a harsh slap to his cheek, hoping the shock will be enough for you to get away.

Izuku’s face contorts in a mixture of shock and rage, but he doesn’t let go of you like you were hoping. Instead, he tightens his hold even more, making it hard to breathe. He starts pulling you to bed, making you really panic.

“No! No- please! Please don’t do this, Izuku, please!” You beg, digging your heels into the floor to no avail.

“You’re going to pay for that, Y/n.” he growls, his voice dripping with menace. “You’re going to learn to respect me, to obey me.”

He tosses you onto the bed, following you down as if it’s his rightful place on top of you. His hands are everywhere, tearing at your clothes, pulling them off to expose your skin. “You’re mine. And I’m going to prove it to you, whether you like it or not.”

He all but rips his belt off and grabs your wrists, binding them to the headboard with the leather. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to cum for me. You’re going to scream my name and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face.” He’s pinning you down, his weight crushing you and his erection pressing against your thigh.

Your fighting continues to remain fruitless. You try to kick him but he easily gathers your legs on one arm, shoving your knees towards your chest as his other hand works on undoing his jeans.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is heaving, desperately trying to drag air into your burning lungs but you can’t. The room is spinning even harder, and you can see black spots starting to dance in your vision. You’re still trying to plead with him, but you can’t hear yourself anymore. There’s just a loud, piercing ringing in your ears.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He hisses, freeing his cock and lining it up with your entrance. “You wanted to make me jealous so I’d finally snap and take you, didn’t you?”

You barely feel it as you frantically shake your head. “N-no…” you whimper.

With a rough, forceful thrust he fills you. You think you scream out, but you don’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. Your throat feels raw, though, so some sound must’ve come out.

He groans as he hilts, his head dropping to your shoulder as he shifts your legs to wrap around him. He takes a deep breath, and something seems to flip in him. His grip on you loosens just a tad.

“Breathe, darling…” He murmurs. “I need you to breathe…”

You don’t know what caused the switch up, but you know he’s right – you need to breathe. As much as you are terrified for what’s to come, you don’t want to be passed out during it. You want to know every little thing he does to you, so you have that much more to fuel the fires of hatred that are starting to simmer in your chest.

“Breathe with me,” Izuku says, mimicking deep breaths. “two counts in, one out.”

You follow his instructions until you can breathe properly on your own.

“I don’t want to hurt you, love… I just want you to love me the way I love you.” He whispers against your collarbone. “Just give in and I’ll make you feel so good…”

“Fuck you…” you whisper. Now that the ringing has stopped, you can hear how hoarse your voice is from the screaming.

Izuku lets out a long sigh, as if you’re a dog that’s chewed up his shoes one too many times. “We’ll work on that.” He decides.

When he moves, it’s painful. The drag of his cock in your dry cunt creating all the wrong friction. You cry out in discomfort, your legs kicking against the best in a last-ditch effort to get away.

You can feel every slow thrust with excruciating detail.

What’s more horrifying is when you start to feel that friction starts to ease. Each thrust becomes easier and easier as your body betrays you.

The grin that stretches across his face presses into your neck as he peppers it with kisses. “That’s it, give in. I’ll make you feel so, so good darling.”

You shake your head, unable to verbalize anything, too choked with the shame of feeling his cock sliding through your involuntary arousal.

“You just needed to be put in your place, showed who was in charge…” Izuku continues to coo. He lifts up, propping himself up on his forearm as he reaches up to wipe your tears away. “It’s okay to let go. To submit to me…”

He presses a kiss to your lips, this time gentler but still unreciprocated. When he pulls away, he reaches down to rub your clit. The pressure makes your hips kick up into his hand and subsequently into his thrusting. It makes him slam right into your g spot. You cry out in surprise, the pleasured noise echoing through the room to remind you of your downfall.

“Oh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” Izuku grins again.

"Please... stop..." You sob. He simply pulls you closer by the hips so he can repeatedly guide his cock there again and again. Your wrists pull at the belt, the headboard creaking with the effort, but you’re trapped. Trapped to endure the torture of being violated and of having your body betray you in such a primal manner.

“You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” He pants, thrusting slowly and deep. “You don’t need to answer, I can feel you tightening around me, I know you’re close. I’ve watched you enough to know the signs,” he laughs a little.

“Baby…” he slows into a slow rhythm as he says the word contemplatively. “I like the sound of that…”

He starts up again with renewed vigor. “I think I’m going to fuck a baby into you. Can’t leave me if you’re carrying my child.”

You can’t be bothered to point out how wrong that statement is because you’re too busy spiraling. “No! Nononono- please don’t!” You beg, you’re fight renewing at the thought of being impregnated by your rapist. “Please! Izuku, you can’t do this! You can’t!” you cry out.

“Oh, but I can.” He grunts. “I can, and I will. You’re mine-”

His thumb is still circling your clit and he’s still hammering into you at just the right angle. You can feel your release coming and you’ve never hated the thought of cumming more.

“Please don’t do this-” You try again. “I-I’ll… I’ll do anything! I’ll stop fighting, just please- Please don’t cum inside!”

“Oh, babygirl…” He murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his finger. “This isn’t a punishment… I would never knock you up as punishment. No… this is an act of love. It’s the start of our family!” His smile is psychotic. As if her truly believes that this is love. That this is anything but assault.

Before you can plead with him more, you are push over the edge, crying out shamefully as you body spasms with tremors. Cutting through the haze of your forced orgasm is the sudden, hot feel of something filling you as Izuku groans out, tipping his head back with gritted teeth as he slams his hips into yours.

It's too late…

When Izuku collapse on top of you, he smiles against your heated skin. His expression a stark contrast to your horrified one. “You’re going to make such a pretty mommy…”