#whatever you want you pathetic pathetic loser of a man

[marlenacantswim]

i'll be real with y'all: i would let a drunk and unaware nandor fodor exhale smoke into my face like that.

[hauntingofhouses]

BRB thinking thoughts about Taigen's character, the TaiMizu ship, and a big chunk of fandom's perceptions regarding both those things.

(Inspired by @farintonorth's post related to this topic that just got my brain going brrrrr)

OK so let me just... start off by saying that I think that reducing stories to their tropes is seriously detrimental to the way some people are interacting with fiction, and while that honestly warrants its own post about the subject, I wanna talk specifically about how this affects the way some people in the fandom talk about Taigen and TaiMizu.

Because yeah, tropes are useful shorthand to refer to certain dynamics or archetypes etc, and they are indeed the building blocks to any story. But in a well-written story, characters and their relationships, actions, and motivations, are much more complex than just tropes. Because in a story that has characters who are more than just cardboard cutouts, their behaviours, backgrounds, motivations and all of that, are inseparable from the context of the overall story they exist in.

So like, sure, you can say Mizu and Taigen have an enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers dynamic. I also use those terms because it's easier. But I also think this is where things start to get a bit twisted, especially from an intertextual sense. Because "enemies-to-lovers" is also commonly used to refer to other ships in other media, whereby it tends to be rooted in an imbalanced power dynamic, such as oppressor-oppressed and bully-victim.

And while that's a whole can of worms that I won't be getting into because it can quickly derail into a whole separate sort of fandom discourse, I'd just like to make it clear that Mizu and Taigen, in particular, do not have an imbalanced power dynamic. They are not bully-victim or oppressor-oppressed. The only understandable reason why someone might actually think their relationship is imbalanced is if

A) they only watched the first episode, or

B) they cannot grasp the slightest bit of nuance in a character, or

C) they're being obtuse on purpose simply because the Mizu/Taigen relationship, or Taigen's character in general, just doesn't suit their tastes.

While yes, Taigen, along with his whole gang, had bullied Mizu when they were children, that dynamic does not exist between them whatsoever in adulthood. Whatever imbalanced bully-victim power dynamic that had once existed between them was decisively ripped apart the moment Mizu beat him in that duel in the dojo, and then completely obliterated by the end of the season.

Mizu is not a defenseless victim at Taigen's mercy. Mizu can beat Taigen's ass any time she wants (and she DOES, repeatedly in fact), and could even kill him if she felt like it. She taunts him openly and without fear ("I like your hair"; "I can beat you with any weapon you choose") and all he does is bark back, because that's pretty much all Taigen ever does. Time and time again, he yaps about how much he wants to kill her, but time and time again, his actions prove that all of it is just an empty threat. Because though his words say "I hate you", his actions demonstrate the complete opposite. He's shown how protective he is of Mizu, how unhesitatingly he sacrifices himself up for her, how loyal he is in enduring days-long torture to not give up information about her, how even when near-death and in pain, he's still willing to keep standing back up so he can fight by her side and help her win against her enemies.

And Mizu is not an idiot! She sees that too. She does not see him as a threat, an enemy, or even a bully. Especially not by the end of Episode 3, and definitely not by the end of the season. When she finds him in the dungeon in Episode 6, she smiles from relief, and doesn't think twice to take him with her. Mizu finds him, at best, an annoyance, or at worst, an infuriating hindrance on her quest for vengeance. Which is why, when Taigen is about to say, "It's a shame our duel's set for tomorrow; I have to kill you before you get your revenge," Mizu whacks him on the head without a second thought before he can even finish his sentence, and leaves him lying unconscious, face-down, in the snow.

And this further emphasises how he does not hold any power over her. There is no abusive power dynamic between them. She is more powerful than him, he knows this, and all he's ever done after they've met up again in adulthood is get his ass whooped by her, get mad about it and pester her and follow her around, get his ass whooped by her some more, and put his life on the line to protect her.

"OOoooOOoooH b-but he called her a demon at the end of Episode 7 and threatened to kill her again!!!" Oh my god. He called her that because he's calling her out on her selfishness to stay silent about her knowledge of Fowler's plans to attack Edo. Because to him, loyalty and honour as a samurai is more important than anything. So in his own brash-and-immature Taigen way, he felt betrayed that Mizu did not hold the same principles. That's why he got angry. He wasn't even that mad about letting Akemi get dragged off by the Tokunobu guards. It was about saving the Shogun and the Shogunate as a whole. That's why the first thing he does in Edo is not find Akemi, but try to warn the Shogun about Fowler's attack.

Look, I'm not defending his stupid ass, of course. Because calling her a demon especially after their cute little wrestling time was obviously rude and inappropriate, especially since words like "demon", "monster" and "Onryo" have had such a deep effect on Mizu throughout her life, and continue to contribute to her self-hatred. But like? That's the fun of realistic and flawed characters, and realistic and flawed relationships. They're not perfect, and it's why we as an audience root for them, wanting to see them work through their shit and find a way to prevail despite it all.

Also, him saying that was in the heat of the moment. He was angry, he felt like his initial belief of who Mizu was—a strong and loyal samurai, just like him—was shattered, and so he lashed out. Was it rude? Definitely. Was it immature of him? Yes, incredibly. But it's also very much in line with his character, because even though he's grown a lot over the course of the season, the show isn't over yet, so obviously his character arc is just beginning, as that is also the case for the other three main characters: Mizu is beginning to accept herself, Akemi is beginning to grow into her position of power, Ringo beginning to train under Master Eiji, while Taigen is beginning to simply be a better person.

On that note, when speaking of Taigen's immaturity, I think that's also one of the main things that people tend to gloss over when it comes to his character. Because when you boil everything down to its bare essentials, Taigen is, essentially, a boy. I've talked about this before, but to reiterate, Taigen very much behaves like an unhealed child. Even as an adult, he is insecure, prone to throwing tantrums, and is desperate to latch onto some material goal in hopes that it will make him feel better—initially he was chasing status/glory/greatness, and then when Mizu tells him that "Nothing comes from being a samurai but death," he immediately decides he wants to run away with Akemi in hopes that he will be happy.

And it's a big step, acknowledging that he doesn't truly want greatness, but had always just assumed it was his only path to a good life. But it's clear he still hasn't really figured it out. Because if he did run off with Akemi to get married and live in the countryside, he still wouldn't be happy. Because he still doesn't know who he really is, or what it is he really wants. Marriage at this moment is the last thing he needs, and as he is now, he would be a pretty awful husband. A simple life would be good for him, but would he be good at a simple life, when he still has so much he needs to work through?

So anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that he's trying and he is learning and growing. So yeah, he is flawed, but honestly? So is Mizu. And the funny thing is that they're flawed in very similar ways.

Because Mizu is also an unhealed child. That's why she's so angry all the time. That's why she pushes people away. That's why she, just like Taigen, is so happy when given the chance to playfully wrestle in the forge, laughing and rolling around like children without shame or pretense.

Again, this shows there is no imbalance between them. They had grown up together as peers from the same town. And while Taigen had had the upper hand back then, because he'd had a gang of other kids with him, that is definitely not the case anymore. Today, they are equally flawed, equally strong, equally skilled swordsmen, and equally bull-headed.

However, yes, Mizu is definitely leagues more mature than Taigen. But she still holds a lot of childhood wounds that mirror Taigen's own. And we see this especially in relation to her mother. Similar to Taigen who had an abusive and alcoholic father, Mizu's Mama was an opium addict and had hit her, berated her, had shaved her head without her consent as a child, and as an adult, had constantly emotionally manipulated and guilt-tripped her. Mizu's love for her Mama was what had driven her to a path of vengeance in the very beginning. And when she'd found out Mama was still alive, she had wanted nothing more than her Mama's love, and it was this alone that pushed her to agree to the marriage with Mikio in the first place. And now, knowing from Fowler that her birth mother is someone else entirely, is what makes her agree to keep him alive and haul his ass to London to seek answers.

Thus, integral to Mizu's self-hatred is also Mizu's intense longing for love and family. Just like Taigen, whose pompousness comes from his insecurity about being the son of a poor fisherman, Mizu's goals are also shaped by who her parents are. Remember, her vengeance is not against just anyone who's corrupt or evil, but specifically against the men who she believes had assaulted her mother, the men she believes had made her a monster, the men she believes had abandoned her to die and continue to try to kill her. Her vengeance is against a father, on behalf of a mother. In The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride, Mizu is not merely the Ronin, the Bride, or the Onryo, but also the Child.

This is also why Ringo is so good, not only for Mizu, but for Taigen as well. Ringo is wise and caring and considerate, but above all, he is in tune with his inner child in ways that Mizu and Taigen are not. He is always earnest and positive, he sees the world with childlike wonder, but is not naive or blind to its ugliness. His whole life has been a battle. Ringo brings out the best in Mizu, consistently acting as her moral compass and conscience, and Mizu's choice to save Akemi in the final episode is only because she promised Ringo that she would. Because it's the right thing to do. Ringo inspires her to be a better person, and to think outside of her narrow-minded goal of revenge. At the same time, Ringo also brings out the best in Taigen. While at first Taigen had looked down on both Mizu and Ringo ("Half-limb to a half-wit"), by the end of the season, he's proud to have Ringo as a friend and ally, he listens to Ringo's advice ("What would Master do?"), and asserts to the fucking Shogun that Ringo is a worthy warrior to have by his side.

Okay, I've gone on a bit of a tangent here, but my main point is that Mizu and Taigen are incredibly similar. They are equals. They are both flawed, unhealed children who are chasing some impossible outlandish goal in hopes that it will fill the void in their hearts. They also both have a long way to go in terms of character development if they were to ever build a healthy romantic relationship (either with each other, or even with anyone else). So while I believe things will be rocky (because duh, it's a story, we all live for the drama, etc), I think with Ringo's help, they'll get there eventually.

[gokupowers]

feel like modern Dave writers/kins forget he's hussies self insert and written to be totally fucking lame in canon bc hussie was a 25 year old loser living in his parents basement making anti SJW rage comics at the time . dave strider is an awesome character but he is genuinely so fucking embarrassingly lame and a loser and it's a beautiful thing & we need to remember our roots #makedavelameagain

[tonycries]

Cause, I Love Freaks!

Synopsis. The question isn’t whether he can make you squírt - it’s how and where.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, squírting, unprotected, creampíe, exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s and Choso’s), bréeding, Shiu cameo, messy, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s thigh tattoos, thigh ríding chokíng, overstím, finger suckíng, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.1k

A/N. I think I’m in some early ovulation week because…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Prove it.

Now, does Toji know he’s the best you’ve ever had in bed? Of course.

Is he proud of how he’s done everything and anything - had you folded in half underneath him, stuffed from all ends, and cumming harder than any other loser before him did? Hell yeah. 

Does it bother him when Shiu makes some off-hand comment about how he’s able to make someone squirt? Well, it was hard not to when the man just laughs right in Toji’s dumbfounded face, saying something about how your pretty pussy is “missing out” and to come to Shiu if you want to have a good time.

Surely, that stupid conversation doesn’t bother him, right? Right?

Wrong. 

He was going to prove that bastard Shiu wrong. 

“Damn. Not that one either.”

If you could, you’d probably let out a sob - but right now, you’re too cockdrunk to even think let alone cry. Unsure if you’re even breathing as Toji wrestles your limp body - still twitching and sensitive from your nth high - upright on his lap. Whispering a ragged, “Guess we just hafta try again. Right, doll?”

“Please!” you let out a strangled yelp as Toji’s big hands snake down to steady your hips, all stuttering and messily sucking up his aching cock. Again. “I-I don’t think I can- ah-”

Whatever plea on the tip of your tongue is shut up by Toji pulling your teary face towards his, kissing your swollen lips so softly. Reverent, even. 

The complete opposite of his hips down below, not even bothering to move anymore, hands on your ass just dragging your sloppy pussy up and down his swollen dick. Up and down up and down up and-

“Toji–”

“Aww, c’mon, pretty.” Toji groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he spreads your puffy folds further, bullying his cock so impossibly deep. “G-gotta prove it to that f-fucker that I’m the best, right?”

Ah, there it was - if you were in any better state of mind you’d have cursed out Shiu already. Taunting your boyfriend into this stupid little challenge that had him storming into your apartment and ripping off your poor panties. And you split apart on his cock and cumming over and over again like he wouldn’t - couldn’t - stop until you squirted. Like it killed him to make you miss out on this little thing. 

“Now now, doll.” you jolt as he gives your sopping pussy a little smack! Grinning at your nails digging into his thick shoulders, “Focus. Hah- we gotta have her squirtin’ all over me now, right?”

You really can’t help the way you’re giving him a delirious little nod. Hips bouncing back pathetically in an attempt to meet the way Toji was bouncing you so sinfully on his cock like his favorite toy. And it’s so cute that Toji’s murmuring a low, “Use your words, doll.”

“I- ngh-”

Not like he was giving you a chance to, rolling your ravaged clit between his fingers, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “Louder.”

“Gonna- gonna squirt for you, Toji…”

If he was any lesser man (Shiu) Toji thinks he might’ve just cum in your snug pussy right then and there. Filled you up till you’re bloated and forgetting any promise of squirting - but no, that’s for later. 

Right now, he’s flattening his feet on the mattress, falling onto his back - two big arms pulling your overstimulated body to rest against his muscles. Not even wasting a second before fucking up into your tight cunt like such an animal.

Sloppy - so, so desperate. 

Just rough, jagged movements of his hips because shit if Toji doesn’t make you squirt this time then he’s gonna lose his sanity. Might’ve already lost it, actually, with each adorable ah! ah! ah! falling from your kiss-bitten lips each time he hits that one spot so easily. 

“Bit- bit more-” he grits out, feeling that familiar way your plushy walls were trying to squeeze him dry. Your cunt too heavenly. The stimulation too much. “Jus’ a bit more, pretty.”

“Oh my god- Toji- ah- Toji Toji Toji-” It’s all you can do to whine, writhing as he holds your hips still, rocking harder into you. Clawing at the soaked sheets, his shoulders, his hair - anything to try and hold onto whatever semblance of control you had left. “M’so- close-”

“Yeah?” And Toji sounds so utterly wrecked already, looking up at you with glassy, half-lidded eyes. Voice strained, awe-struck like he couldn’t even believe it. His pretty girl - cumming for him again. “Squirt f’me, doll.”

You don’t even realize it when you are at first - just that something snaps and suddenly you’re soaking Toji’s cock in all your sweet sweet juices. Until it was dripping down the side, onto the mattress. 

So messy and sinful - gummy walls squeezing his dick so fucking tight it almost hurt, covering his abs till they were glistening. Toji can’t bring himself to do anything but watch, for once in his life actually grateful that Shiu goaded him into doing something. Jaw-dropped at the way you’re gushing all around him - like you couldn’t stop. Again and again and-

“S-see? Fuck- What- oh shit, doll. All f’me? Good girl.” Eyeing that phone propped up by the bedside, Shiu’s face watching over the obscene mess on the bed. “What did I tell ya?”

“Heh, well whatever. Can ya make her do it twice?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Love is blind

Now, it’s not often that Nanami Kento took off his glasses. Rarely when he cuddled, not usually when he was kissing you - his pretty lil’ wife. And never when it was your lips down below that he was making out with.

“So messy.” Nanami mutters, muffled around your puffy folds. Each word making you arch against the soft mattress. “Are you this messy just f’me? M’so lucky, my love.”

It’s all you can do to yelp as Nanami slides his tongue warningly between your folds, flicking at your swollen clit just enough to have you gripping so tightly at his blond strands. Pulling Nanami’s face up from between your thighs with a strained groan.

And oh you assumed he was exaggerating, but it was so fucking difficult to look at Nanami, too. Glasses slightly foggy, cheeks flushed. Your sweet juices glossing his lips so prettily, dripping all the way down his jaw. Head tilting back ever-so-slightly to let it slide down his throat.

Making your head spin as he reaches over to press a chaste, wet peck to your lips. “Jus’ let me take care of it.”

And take care of it he does. Immediately taking his favorite place in-between your legs, stuffing his face nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue giving one, long lick up your folds, just barely dipping between them. The slow torture was delicious. 

“Kento-.” you let out a pouty little whine, one that goes straight to Nanami’s aching cock. Ankles hooking around his broad shoulders to pull him impossibly closer, “D-don’t tease.”

He’s letting out such a dark chuckle, hot against your sloppy hole. Awe-struck at the way you’re glistening and clenching around nothing - so much so that Nanami almost considers taking off those tinted glasses to see this heavenly view better. 

But no, instead, he’s breathing out a little, “Fine.” Interrupting your soft sigh of relief to continue, “But you better not get my hah- glasses dirty, darling.”

Nanami doesn’t wait for your response - he doesn’t have to. Already knowing that you’ll be giving him a delirious little nod in agreement. So he’s digging his neat fingernails into your hips, pulling you closer to spread your lips with his tongue. Lapping so obscenely at the slick beading at your cunt over and over and-

It wasn’t enough.

“Shit. Fuck-” you flinch - maybe from those depraved little profanities hissed into your cunt. Maybe from the cold metal of his glasses hitting your heated core. Probably from the way Nanami was bullying his soft tongue into your tight pussy.

Pushing past that feeble resistance, one hand reaching behind to arch your deeper into his mouth. The other toying with your sensitive clit. Rolling the nub between two long fingers while he dips in and out of your hole at such a ruthless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck, Kento-” you’re grabbing at the expensive sheets so hard you worry they might tear. Thighs shaking and sliding off his shoulders. “S’too much- too deep.”

And ah, for how much Nanami pretends to be annoyed as he wraps your legs back around his head - it sends all the blood in his body rushing straight to his cock at how wrecked his cute wife was.

Moaning around your entrance, “Remember what I mm- said.” Your juices starting to drip down the corners of his mouth now. “Get it dirty and-”

“Kento! Oh my god-” You buck wildly as he starts drawing lewd little circles on your clit. Nanami’s little warnings the last thing on your mind as you feel yourself losing more and more of your sanity with each drip! drip! drip! of your slick down onto the mattress below. 

Glasses completely fogged now, he makes out with your cunt through pure, feral need. Tongue matching in time with each yelp of his name leaving your mouth. 

“F-fuck.” Nanami’s smacking his lips against your own. “You taste so good. So heavenly.” Your gummy walls sucking him up so sinfully that it was almost difficult to move faster, more erratic. “Gonna make a mess f’me now? Gonna hah-” 

And, well, you did always manage to surprise him.

Because Nanami doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, before your slutty pussy is gushing all around him. 

Everywhere. Making such a mess as he tonguefucks you through your high, letting you use and angle his mouth all you wanted. So so sloppy with the way you’re soaking him in all your juices - down his chin, his tongue, all the way up to his sharp cheekbones and even-

“My glasses.” Head so fucked-out already, you almost miss Nanami’s dangerous little mutter. Raising your eyes to meet his and oh. Shit. “You dirtied my glasses.”

As if to prove his point, Nanami them off, running a long finger down his frames. Slowly. Agonizingly. Pooling all your sweet slick on his fingertips, so tauntingly inspecting it in the dim lighting. 

In a split-second, those dripping wet glasses are resting on the bridge of your nose, forcing you to peer over them at a dangerously looming Nanami.

“Told ya not to dirty my glasses, my love.” Smiling so dangerously, “Think this naught cunt of yours should be taught a lesson for that.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Favorite part

Geto thinks that this might be his favorite part, whispering a ragged little, “God, do you know how pretty you hah- look right now?”

You didn’t - and it’s all you can do to even try and understand what your boyfriend was even cooing from behind. Too caught up in the way your legs were so pathetically trembling with the need to bounce back on his swollen cock. 

“Hngh- f-fuck Sugu- I-”

Sure to leave such lewd little marks for Geto to ogle at tomorrow, his toned pelvis against your ass, heavy balls on your clit, fingers on your hips to steady your fucked-out self. Sloppy - bruising, even. 

So it only made sense that your high was the same - and he can only watch, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown, jaw falling slack in disbelief at the way your cunt was just gushing all around him. Fucking him over and over through your high. 

“Shit- shit shit shit.” you hear him breathe, fingers toying with your pretty clit desperately. “Jus’ like that. Good girl.”

Your sweet sweet juices soaking his painfully hard cock, dripping down, down, down his heavy balls, glistening against his thighs. Squirting so obscenely around his twitching cock and shit- he just can’t help but go over the edge as well. 

“Oh- oh god.” Geto throws his head back, giving you one, harsh thrust before he’s spilling all into your quivering cunt. Coating your walls such an obscene white, “This pussy is ngh- magic, gorgeous. Fucking love her.”

Loved how you were squeezing him so tight. 

Loved how you were so messy. 

Loved how it made him think that you could squirt all over his dick again. 

And he can’t stop - couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Hips still moving in quick, ragged jabs to your poor cervix, eyeing the way your poor, abused pussy was still drooling all around him. A lewd little mess of slick and cum, forming a pool on the sheets below. 

And Geto can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted - why would he? After all, this was his favorite part, right? 

“You can mm- gimme another one, right?” You shiver as he flattens his feet on the damp mattress, kissing up your arched spine. Keening at the change in angle as his cock bullies impossibly deeper. Stars behind your eyes at how unfairly easily he finds that one spot. “Your slutty pussy’s gonna s-squirt all over me again?” Fat head hitting it over and over and-

“Suguru!” you squeal, and Geto raises his brows. Knowing you were absolutely fucking wrecked already - you never called him by his full name until you were fucked so dumb you couldn’t remember his nickname. “S’too- much. M’too ngh- sensitive.”

Your hands reach out to grab for the headboard - nails digging into the wood. Geto’s throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls so agonizingly that you almost miss him mutter a quiet, “Now, that won’t do.”

And before you know it, his big hands are prying yours off the bed, intertwining them so gently with his. Romantic - but you knew better, Geto just didn’t want his pretty girl to run away. 

Not when he knew you were so close - could tell by that breathy little ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips. 

“Please-”

Huffing in amusement, “Please what?”

And you don’t even know what you’re begging for - maybe for mercy? For Geto to let you fucking breathe? His cock too bruising against your cunt, drawing out incoherent whines with each drag of his tip down all the right spots. Trying so desperately to fuck that second orgasm out of you. 

“Heh, can’t even fuck- talk.” And it’s so dizzing how he’s puncturing each word with such a rough ram of his cock. So mean with the way he dips a hand lower to graze a long finger down your sensitive cunt - so messy and sensitive. Chuckling at your cute lil’ whines - at the way they’re suddenly cut short when Geto shoves his dripping wet fingers between your lips. “Ngh- well, if you don’t wanna talk…”

Close. Too close. 

You mewl at the way he was pressing right at the back of your tongue, feeling the lewd little taste of him and you and him. “Mmmpf- what are you-” 

“At least don’t try to escape, gorgeous.” he leans in close - so close. Long inky hair tickling your spine, breath hot against your ear, lips grazing yours. You think you could just pass out right then and there as his soft tongue darts out to lick at the mess he’s smeared across your glossy lips. 

Grinning at the taste, at that look in your eyes that told him your cute cunt was about to give him another show, “Cuz this is my favorite part.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Hair tie

If anyone found out why Choso Kamo was never seen without that black hair tie around his wrist, they’d laugh in your face and tell you what a great joke that was. 

That inconspicuous little thing he’d take around everywhere, whether he had his hair up or not. It’s not like he exactly needed it, and most just assumed it was a fashion statement. 

Only you knew what it meant to have Choso thumbing that little red imprint in public. Hooking a finger underneath, pulling back ever-so-slightly to let it snap! against his skin. Looking you right in the eyes as he does. Something dangerous. Subtle. Something that has you pressing your thighs together. 

Something that has him pulling you to the nearest changing room in this crowded shopping mall, one hand covering your mouth, muffling your sweet sweet moans. The other, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt.  

“Sorry, baby.” he gasps, kissing your forehead so mockingly gently. “You just looked so fuckin’ pretty in that skirt. Needed you so- hah- bad.”

The skirt that was currently bunched at your waist, crumpling at Choso pushes you harder against the cool wall. 

But Choso couldn’t give a fuck about that right now, not as he shoves a knee between your trembling legs. He couldn’t have his girl falling now, right? Long fingertips so desperately massaging your plushy walls, searching for that one-

“Mmpfh! Hngh-”

Found it.

Without another word, he’s reeling two fingers back - all the way until they were barely kissing your sloppy hole. Plunging back in, hitting that spot over and over like he was addicted to the way your cunt was trying to suck him up so good. High off of every cute lil’ whine that escapes through his palm. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ gorgeous.” Breath hot against your ear, “Look.” 

You barely even realize it before you are, gasping at the obscene sight below. Your drenched panties pulled so lazily to the side. Sloppy. 

“Can’t get enough. Shit-” Pulling back to show off your slick glistening on his fingers, dripping down, down, down to that sinful hair tie. “Fuuuck, baby. Need you to cum on my fingers. Please. Please-” Puffy folds milking Choso’s fingers so hard that you wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether his wrist wasn’t cramping up now, fingers sore. 

And if they were, then, Choso didn’t show it. Instead, he’s bullying a third finger inside your poor cunt, the stretch too much that you can’t help but squeal. So fucking loud. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Is everything alright in there, ma’am?”

Oh if the way your heavenly cunt was clenching around him was anything to go by, then Choso wished he did this sooner. 

So entranced that he almost missed the concerned, “Ma’am?” from outside. 

“Wh-what’s the matter, baby?” he whispers lowly, biting down teasingly at your earlobe. Fingers still relentless, speeding up, even. And you could only pray the employee outside couldn’t hear the lewd squelches as he did. “Shy? Answer the hah- question.”

And shit, you could cry as he wrenches his hand away from your mouth. Grinning as you let out a broken little, “Y-yeah.” Cringing at how unconvincing you sound, “I’m jus-”

Whatever stupid excuse that was to come out of your mouth dies in your throat as Choso runs his thumb over your throbbing clit. 

“I-I’m al-right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And it’s as if he takes that up as a challenge to prove you’re so utterly not. 

Not when Choso’s drawing tight little circles in time with the way he’s hitting that one spot, arching you like such a slut into his touch. Ignoring the concerned remarks from outside as he speeds up his pace, not even bothering to cover your mouth this time because he wanted to hear all your pretty moans. 

So much so that you’re mentally preparing to get caught - maybe even arrested. 

But still you’re so close. 

Halfway through imagining how Choso would snap his hair tie during the trial when that voice speaks up again. “Well…please let us know if you need any help.”

Those footsteps from outside barely even heading away before he’s sighing, “She’s gone now.” he bites down on your lower lip. “Y’can hah- cum f’me, y’know? Make a mess?” Grinding down his rock-hard erection on your thigh, already so damp through his pants. “Fucking cover me in it.”

And then you are - all over Choso’s hand. Kissing him hard, to stop yourself from screaming as he quirks his fingers just right. Fucking you through your high as you drench him in all your juices, soaking his hair tie, trailing onto the floor in a lewd drip! drip! drip! 

Obscene. Exactly the way he wanted it. 

So fucking pretty with the way you’re squirting all over his hand, thighs trembling, lips wobbling. That new skirt of yours so filthy now that Choso can’t help but eye the pile of clothes right next to you. Gritting out a ragged, “We got so many more clothes to try on.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - X marks the spot

“You’re going to cum f’me just like this, okay, brat?”

Maybe it’s the way you’re sat so prettily on Sukuna’s muscular thigh, squirming ever-so-slightly as he starts bouncing his leg to the beat of the thumping music. Maybe it’s the way you can’t do anything but let out a stifled gasp, desperately trying not to attract any attention towards the two of you in the dimly-lit VIP area of this overcrowded club.

But Sukuna just can’t help but tease you. 

Can’t help but trail a finger along your thigh, goosebumps rising so deliciously at the scrape of his nail. Up, up, up to confirm his suspicious and oh- 

He was right. No panties.

“Heh, such a naughty little minx, aren’t ya?” he can’t help the surprise that bleeds into his voice, pulling your back flush against his chest. Cradling your neck into his pecs, “Acting all innocent but you’re just begging to be used like such a slut, huh?”

The clink of a belt, and suddenly you’re feeling a sliver of skin - warm. Soft, sat right above where you knew he had that sinful little tattoo. 

“B-but Kuna-” you flinch as the cold air hits you before you know it. Looking over your shoulder to catch that fucking smug smirk as Sukuna flips your flimsy skirt to rest your dripping cunt on his bare thigh. And to anyone else, it would probably just look like you’re just seated on his lap. But you gasp, “Here?”

“Why not?”

If anyone heard your broken whine, then you didn’t have the courage to raise your head and look. Hazy eyes locked with Sukuna’s as he starts rocking you on his thigh. Fingers digging into your hips, dragging your sloppy pussy. Grip tight, bruising almost - like he was trying to hold himself back from doing anything more. 

“Aww, my messy girl.” And fuck if it wasn’t difficult to not just fuck you right then and there with the way your puffy folds were spread on his thigh. Drooling all the way down to the gaudy couch below. “Who’re you this wet for?”

But Sukuna’s skin against your was so hot. Your brain too foggy. His words too mean. And you can’t help but let out some incoherent babble.

One that has him wrapping a hand around your neck, nails positioned right above your racing pulse, forcing you to blink tearily up at him. “Sorry, pretty. Can’t hear you above this fuckin’ music.” Biting down on your earlobe - just a little punishment, “What were you sayin’?”

“Ngh- f-fuck-” you moan, clit catching on the curves and dips of his muscles, rippling as he bounces you faster in time with your slutty lil’ movements. “Only for ngh- you.”

Voice such a low purr in your ear now, “Who?”

“Y-you, Kuna-”

“Yeahhhh, fuck.” he grunts, angling his head just right to better take in the fucking heavenly view. Back arching, swollen folds spread so shamefully as you hump him like some bitch in heat. Making such a mess all over his thigh tattoo in a way that makes Sukuna so fucking glad he got it. “S’exactly what I like to hear.”

And God, he didn’t even have to tell you for you to realize. Because you could feel the way his rock-hard cock jumps against his boxers - so rock-hard and pressing up against your ass in a damp patch. 

One hand tightening around your throat, the other dipping below to draw urgent, messy little circles on your clit. Over and over. 

You dare to crack an eye open and look at the room around you, hips still grinding down so pathetically on his thigh. Clenching down so hard on nothing as you wonder how someone - anyone - could see the two of you and-

“Oi, look at me, brat.” he’s tugging your head up to his again. Hands getting more erratic - like he wanted to distract you from anything but him him him. “Focus on me. On how fucking good this pretty pussy is feeling.”

As if you could do anything but.

Bucking softly into his angry erection, causing Sukuna to let out a low, drawn-out hiss. “Evil lil’ thing.” he drags his lips down your sensitive neck. Pulling your hips harder against that tattoo. “Guess it ngh- makes sense though because…” you blink up tearily at him as he trails off. Barely noticing the trembling in his fingers, both your rhythms getting so sloppy. Untimed. As rough as the look in Sukuna’s eyes as he whispers, “-because you’re mine.”

And then he spits - right into yout waiting mouth. Once. Twice. 

Loud enough that it definitely makes a few stray onlookers glance, faces immediately burning at the sight of Sukuna kissing you. Just a messy clash of lips and teeth and tears.

Tears as you cum with a strangled gasp, drunk up so greedily by Sukuna as you squirt all over his thigh. So fucking messy. Seeping into his pants, all the way down to the couch below, but especially his tattoo. That ring of ink soaked in your juices - right where Sukuna wanted.

And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have been embarrassed - shy, even.

Instead, you’re glancing down at the way his thigh was glistening in the dim light, delicate strings of slick snapping as you lean back closer. 

“Don’t you have- hah- the same tattoo on your cock, too, Kuna?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sweeter this way

“Such a filthy cunt on my sweet, sweet girl.” Gojo has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh - at how breathless and fucked out you were on top of him already. “C’mon, what ngh- happened to taking control?”

Ah, right - you bat your lashes lazily, blinking away the tears in your eyes to be met with that fucking smug smirk on your boyfriend’s face. So much for taking control tonight.

“Y-you’re a ngh- cheater, Toru.” you hiss, but you can’t stop your hips from grinding down so pathetically to meet with his rough pace. Jolting every time his leaking tip hit that one spot. “It was s’pposed to be hah- m-my turn to take charge.”

And oh how you had the strongest whining underneath you, two big arms looping around your waist to pull you against his toned chest. 

“But, sweetheart~” Craning his neck to graze his lips against your bruised ones - so fleeting, gentle. Exactly what his hips weren’t. “Isn’t it s-so much sweeter this way?”

You don’t know what it is about it - maybe at the dangerous little tone dripping from Gojo’s words. Maybe at the way each one was punctured by a messy, harsh thrust into your tight pussy. But it has shivers running down your spine - all the way to your bulging cunt, so stuffed and ravaged by his cock. 

Words a bit more breathless than you’d have liked as you mutter, “W-what do you oh fuck- Toru. What do you mean ‘sweet’?”

The only response you get is one hand pushing the hair out of his eyes, the other just bruising on your hips. Pulling you up, up, up on Gojo’s swollen cock like you were weightless, the arms in his biceps rippling when Gojo slams you down. Hard. 

Toned pelvis hitting your ass as he rams his cock into you. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“M’gonna show ya.” he grins, free hand roling your poor clit between two fingers. “Gonna show ya how much sweeter fuck-” Gojo’s eyes fly open as you clench so hard around him. On purpose - a warning. “Hah, feisty. But just you wait. M’gonna show ya.”

Having you feeling more and more like some curse he’s out to vanquish with the way he’s fucking you so merciless.

“Merciless?” Gojo cocks his head in a way that almost makes you forget to realize that oh, shit you said that out loud. “Mhm, sure did.” he hums, in a tone that was way too proud of himself. “N’ you h-haven’t even seen the ngh- best of it.”

You were getting impatient now - and so was Gojo. 

For all his talk, letting you grind your hips down to meet his rough cadence. So difficult with the way the man was getting impossibly faster. Sloppier. 

The look in his eyes is so feral. His hands so unforgiving, pushing your knees further apart. So erratic on your clit, drawing quick, messy little patterns in a way that has you wondering whether this is more for you or himself. 

He’s whispering, like a mantra now. “Gonna show ya- gonna show hah- fuck- m’gonna.” Running only on this and the way you were sucking him up so obscenely. Clit throbbing so fast under his thumb in a way he knew that it was about to be- “Now.”

As if on command, you cum. And not just any orgasm - no, when Gojo Satoru is out to prove a point, he will prove it five times over. Which is why he has you squirting like such a slut all over his rock-hard cock. 

“Oh- f-oh my god. Toru!”

Gojo’s own orgasm just a quick, sharp spike of pleasure, coating your puffy walls an obscene white before he’s pushing your limp body further back to get a better view and shit- 

That only has you gushing around him harder. So animalistically. Dick twitching wildly at the slick glistening all over Gojo’s abs, dribbling down, down, down to those tufts of white at his base. Some reaching his parted lips, and fuck if Gojo can stop himself from running his tongue along them.

Running a finger at the lewd pool on his abs before bringing them up to his mouth, “Oh, baby.” Eyes half-lidded, miles away yet still boring right into yours as he licks up his dripping wet index with a lewd groan. Pooling your sinful juices on his tongue. Heady. Addictive. “See? Sweeter this way.”

Your jaw drops into a soft oh! as Gojo pulls away with a lewd pop! looking like it fucking killed him to do so. 

Strings of slick connecting to those pretty pink lips, snapping ever so slightly as he murmurs a dark, “Wonder if it’ll be twice as sweet if I cum twice in your pretty pussy, hm?”

A/N. Hope y’all have a good day.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! academic rival who jerks off to you. duh, you're his academic rival, you two have lots chemistry together! it's only normal for him to think of you that way, no? it's not normal, you two literally curse each other 💀

✎ yandere! academic rival who you believe hates you. cursing at you, scowling and shoving against you whenever he sees you... if only you saw the blissed out face he makes the second you disappear from his field of vision...

✎ yandere! academic rival who hates how perfect you are in his eyes. it's pathetic that he's on his knees for someone who calls him a loser, someone who will never look at him in a romantic way.

✎ yandere! academic rival who's thinking of you 25/8. wow! not only is the theory of relativity in his mind but the concept of you being his is very much running through his head. have fun being first because this man will NOT be first this semester :3 he's too busy wanking off to you after all haha!

"fuck off."

"no, you fuck off."

the male clicks his tongue irritatedly as you stick your tongue out at him. fuck, you were just so... so infuriating! how could you look so adorable when you're being so damn annoying?!

"god, y/n, you're like a child!"

"yeah but at least I'm cute, unlike you~"

his fists clench as the heat in his cheeks grow. holy shit, the urge that he has to just squish your cheeks is unfathomable. you're so fucking cute it drives him insane!

he huffs, looking away as he attempts to conceal his blush by yawning. you merely chuckle at this, smirking smugly as you step in front of him and babble on about how his grades are slipping.

the male's attempt at trying to be calm fails as his brain fries. no, no, no! stop looking at him like that with that smug smile! stop boasting about your intelligence with that sweet voice of yours! don't even look at him! it's giving him a boner and it's embarrassing!

"whatever dumbass. I'm leaving, so DON'T follow me."

he states as he glares weakly at you. turning around, he limps to the bathroom, pants painfully tight as you watch his retreating figure.

yeah, please don't follow him. wouldn't want you to get traumatized from hearing his whiny moans.

[tojisbbygworl]

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

[cryptfile]

⨳ kinktober file 02 — victims of love, a. donaldson.

summary — you will simply not tolarate losing.

warnings — 18+ mdni, rivals to lovers, fem!reader, tension, filthy mouth, praise kink, whiny&pathetic!art, choking, pet names, p in v, masturbation, mentions of spit, blood and injuries (reader falls during a match and Art takes care of it, nothing wild), dumbification (art calls reader a loser multiple times).

side notes — this takes place before Tashi’s knee accident, it’s not important to know but whatever, english is not my first language thanks to the greater power of the universe, so any mistakes, let them be, i’m not sorry, also, like my previous file, dividers by @cafekitsune! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next kinktober file! been thinking about doing a kinktober masterlist so it’s easier for you my pretty people to look up and read whatever you want. Requests are still open at the moment!

Fuck being a loser.

Even when the tournament is a friendly one. Stanford always do that shit, this thing to bring students together and forces everyone to participate, yet, when you find out who you’re compiting with, it’s pretty obvious you’re going for the throat, not caring if the word “friendly” is in name as there was a medal and 150$ on game.

Yes. You are competitive by heart, it’s part of your genetics now that you’re deep into this tennis world you never wanted to be a part of, Tashi made you sign up and suddenly, suddenly you take it very seriously.

You win the first match, the second, and when it comes down to the final one, you find out it’s none other than Art Donaldson the one who’s on the other side of the tennis court, bouncing the yellow ball until he’s confident enough make the first move.

By the end you’re sweaty. Visible drips of sweat even when you’re standing on the other side, running to match his stregth and game. You wanted to be pro, enjoy the luxury of a relaxed life whose only meaning is to win plays, and to finally be that, you need to beat everyone, man or woman alike as it’s not a matter of sex, but rather talent.

It does not matter if it’s a friendly tournament, it does not matter about the masses saying you’re good, it’s about the fact that you won, that you beat Art Donaldson out of all people. Tashi is a wild ride yes, she makes you work for it when you two are against each other, run to every side, get tired. Art is tension.

Competition.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he’s looking at you, like he’s not dripping in sweat like you are, making those filthy sounds he makes each time he uses force to hit the ball, enough effort on it to make him tired, utterly tired.

So when he won, your knee is already bleeding, shaking his hand in nothing but hatred as he gives you this confident smile he uses to flirt sometimes. You hate it, every second of it, hate the fact that you lose against Tashi’s friend (who you’re sure she must have fucked before cause how there’s so much unresolved tension there?) and how he’s looking at you like he just crushed you in every sense of the word, even enjoyed it while doing it so.

“Good match,” he says when everyone’s looking at your interaction with him, but you don’t say a word. Art chuckles cause he knows people like you, people who need to prove themselves over and over again. “You did a good job.”

You don’t need praising even when it does things to you. You remain professional as you shake his hand, a fast and tight shake before taking the second place. Second.

What you don’t expect is to be in that party later. The music’s loud and people are celebrating something you’re not much aware of, yet the third place greets you with the tequila as you arrive, a bronze medal on his chest as the strong, burning taste goes down your throat before you caught him out the corner of your eye.

Art Donaldson.

He loves praising so much he cannot help it when people stop and say something nice about him: A good little tournament he won? It’s not something he’s going to be proud of his life forever, but it’s enough to make him enjoy the comments about his talent as the day goes through, the medium-sized gold medal still on his neck as he walks like he owns the place. 150$ dollars richer.

Fucker.

Everything seems to be against you: Sororities aren’t your thing but you’re there, the tournament went to shit, Art was literally haunting you.

You think about leaving. You live in a small residence where everyone knows each other, so big spaces filled with as much students as they can possibly fit is not a exactly a plan for you in a friday night, not when you like to stay indoors— But Tashi’s there, your friends are there, and man, you just need to have a good time after the disaster of a day.

So instead, you shove down a shot or two. And when you’re invited to smoke some grass outside, you don’t doubt it, even when Tashi says something about training tomorrow before disappearing, you're sat in a small circle, not caring about your friend’s words as you forgot about the pressure and simply smoke oblivious to everything — Even to Art's gaze.

Fuck being pro. You were doing okay in physics, maybe you should stick to that.

So while you’re drowning in misery, Art just looks at you with a beer in the hand. You picked his interest right at the end of the game: Tashi's friend, new blood, and a fresh face after a whole semester of knowing the same people — It’s safe to say he's drawn to you like he has been with everything he liked during his life. So yeah, he caught himself staring, going back to his memories and the imprinted scene on his brain of the match you two shared before like it was something intimate everyone in the public saw, the dripping sweat falling off your skin as you throw yourself to the floor caughting the small ball when you don't care about your physical well-being anymore.

He can see the wounds on your knee still, the scraps of dry blood as you smoked weed. He knows you're abusing, abusing your limits, testing how far you can go after a hell of a mach, and Art's usually pinning after Tashi at that point, desperate to sabotage Patrick, yet that night specifically he finds himself in trouble until that very moment, that very moment that everything seemed to change all of a sudden.

Truth is Art don't know you very much. He knows Tashi got a female friend she happens to like, a breathe of fresh air as she would describe you, that you play tennis sometimes, but more than that? He's totally clueless even about your name.

It’s just,— God. He loves girls that can put him in his place. It happened with Tashi before driving him crazy with need, and it has happened now in a lame tennis court with you out of all sudden. He thinks about that look you gave him, the tension of the competition, about the fact that even when you saw him, you choose to ignore him, the silver medal you received before well hidden in the back pockets of your shorts instead of proudly display it on your chest like the thrid place did.

You’re no second place. It’s very clear.

He likes your ego, that cocky face you got when someone mentioned the match, dismissing your second place like it was nothing; and Art just stares, even when people notice he’s looking at you, he doesn’t care about being evident as he scans each and every one of your actions.

Shit, he’s been staring a long time. Your friends notice when they tell you about the cute strawberry blonde that’s been checking you out the whole night, but you, knowing who he is, just know that he’s only doing it for teasing, to make your blood boil like he did in the match.

No one’s breaking the nice bubble you made though, laughing, dancing until you’re dizzy and you need to tell one of your girls that you’re going to the bathroom real quick, plan that usual, goes incredibly catastrophic.

The door is locked and you stand outside knocking a couple of times, cursing at the time it took the person inside to get out. And it’s all very cliché when you think about it hours later, cause when the door opens and you’re so rushed, so high already, you don’t happen to notice who you’re running into.

Either way you crash into him when he comes out. Art, Art, Art fucking Art. You’re half way drunk as you would say, and he’s dead sober as he prevents you from falling, grabbing you by the arm as you lose balance.

“Careful,” he would say before noticing it’s you—. “Having trouble to keep on your feet, second place? you okay?”

The nickname stirs something in you. Boiling rage mostly as you quickly stand on your feet again, regaining the balance you lost.

“Thanks. Watch where you’re going,” you quickly reply, rolling your eyes to the back of your head—. “Gotta be careful. People are not kind as me.”

“Kind? You sure about that?” he laughs softly, looking down at you. Fucking rat. Is he mocking you? “Don’t think you were kind to me. You were nothing but the opposite.”

“Were you expecting a pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek?” you asked furrowing your brows in response, an attitude that only appears cause you lack of shame, driven by liquid courage.

“Well for starters, that could be nice” he admits, and you now understand how it ended like it was going at the moment, how he prevented you from getting into the bathroom as he puts his hand right in front of you, blocking the way inside. “Maybe a good job would do.”

You sober up really fast after that, impossible not to.

“How’s your knee?” he asks after the silence, and you notice how he’s leaning towards you, hand on the wall as he points out the wound you didn’t take care of before, too mad to disinfect it as you ignore the pain after the match: Nothing hurts more than a bruised ego. “Did you go to the infirmary?”

“It’s only a bruise, m’okay” you say, looking at your kneecap as well, the dried blood that’s still on your skin—. “Can I go in or what?”

He’s pretty confident in himself, it seems like it (or maybe it’s because he has a gold medal with a number #1 on it), yet he’s grabbing you by the waist, pushing you inside the bathroom as he closes the door behind him with the help of his foot, helping you sit on top of the sink as he looks out for the first aid kit in a bathroom that’s not his.

And you, weird enough, forget why you’re there in the first place. That you were feeling strangely dizzy, that you were going to the bathroom to stare at the mirror and wash your face to sober up, even drunk for a moment as he presses a clean towel dipped in alcohol, a weird silence as you leg tweak against the sudden pain, a reflex you cannot control.

“Do you always get so mad when you don’t get what you want?” he asks, distracting you from the burning sensation as he takes care of the wound in your kneecap—. “Never met someone that could get so passionate about a friendly tournament.”

“No,” you admit, looking at his hands. Even when the blood is dried it still hurts. His touch is gentle, warm against your skin as he touches only what he needs to be touched, keeping his left hand on your tight as he prevents you from moving involuntarily. “Don’t lose often.”

“That so?” he asks, tilting his head slightly backwards, giving you this smile as if he has a huge secret about you only he knew, like you two share confidence now that you’ve shared five minutes in a bath away from the noise. “How long you’ve been playing anyway? Haven’t see you around.”

“A while,” you find his curiosity annoying, yet you’ve been rude enough so you don’t say much, not when he’s helping you—. “Didn’t take it very serious until this semester.”

He hums. Art likes that. The fact that your brain works for something else rather than the competition, that you could talk about the fucking weather if you like and not another match, so he takes in the information in, standing between your parted legs, incredible close.

“And you’re winning don’t you?” he asks curiously. “Hoping to go pro.”

“Well, I think we all want that in the end, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t respond, not with words exactly, but he leans over the bathroom sink, body barely touching yours as he grabs the red thread hanging on the back pocket of your shorts, the one he knows it’s there cause he’s been looking at it the entire night, and you need help cause your breathing hitches on your throat for a moment: Art’s touch is soft, equal as it was when he was taking care of your wound, his fingers sliding in the back as he grabs the silver medal of the second place between his fingers.

How, the hell he smells so damn good? Since you heard he was participating in the tournament you were eager to beat him and reduce him to ashes, but now, you find yourself sniffing on his scent as he fills your nostrils with a sweet smell much like vanilla, clean.

“You should wear your medal,” the blonde says, placing it over your head—. “Let people know you’re good in what you’re doing.”

“I don’t want people to cheer over a second place,” you admit looking at the silver with disgust, too proud to let it slide. “That’s mediocre.”

He seems to thing about it for a second: “Mediocre huh? Would you be happy if we switched medals then, second place?” he asks, looking down at your face. He’s too comfortable now that you didn't pushed him away, caging you in the sink as he places a hand on each side of your legs, his weight now against the spacious marble counter—. “Is that what you want? I’ll tell everyone you beat me if that’s going to make you happy.”

“No,” Why are you even nervous? You scold yourself in your mind a couple of times, he’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes, glistening under the white lights of the bath as he looks at you almost pleading—. “Cause that’s not true. You won.”

“Don’t really care. I just want to put a smile on your face,” Art replies, and god, it’s getting damn hard to think at that point cause his fingers are tracing invisible patters on the sides of your legs, stupidly close as he scans your face, no shame, nothing but a pure act of lust. “Don’t want you to be mad a me, second place. Would not want us to start off on the wrong foot.”

Whatever he’s doing? It’s working. Cause when he’s taking the gold medal out of his neck to put it in yours, exchanging the silver one you hated so much with his gold? You’re sure you’re making it all up in your head.

“There,” the athlete smiles almost proud as his knuckles brushes against your chest—. “Looks better around your neck anyways.”

He caughts you off-guard. You’re no longer high, drunk, or whatever excess you’ve been through the night, and you simply dig it, a lot to be honest with yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you lose the tournament, that you’re somehow vulnerable thanks to your ego being bruised so much, but you let it happen, let his fingers grab the skin of your tight again like its their original place cause you want him to do it, to experience his touch.

“Nobody’s going to believe me,” you blurt out, nervous enough to act like you’re normal about it, about his warm skin seeking yours—. “They all saw you win. You played good.”

“You really think that?” he’s dizzy on that cocky confidence, that boost your words give him as he smiles, his right hand caressing your cheek for a moment, losing itself in the strands of your hair moments after. “You really think I did a good job out there? Beating you?”

It’s the way he’s saying it. How he’s all desperate about it, so needy for you to admit he did good as he brushes your hair using his fingers.

“You know I do. That’s why you won, Art.”

“I swear i’ll keep the secret, loser” he chuckles lowly, breaking every rule as he pushes you to the edge of the counter. “I’ll tell everyone that you won, but you’ll still be the second place to me.”

Fucker.

You want to respond, say something sassy as well, a snarky remark at least, but Art’s pressing his forehead against yours, grabbing you by the jaw strong enough to remind you he has more force than you, but gentle enough to let you enjoy it, demanding you to look at him. Look at him like he’s been looking at you the whole damn night.

“I do, really want to kiss you right now, second place” he admits close to you, gaze travelling to your pumped lips as his eyes take in the details, the pink shade mixed with a transparent lip gloss that only seems to invite him, to make a mess with it, dissapear at its finest. “It’s burning me alive.”

He waits for any sign of permission, and you try to think reasons to say no. Any motive to say no to him, but instead you simply chuckle, back against the wall, trapped in this atmosphere he so easily created: There’s no human way possible to say no cause to be brutally honest, you want it too.

He’s hot. he's handsome in a way you cannot stop thinking about so when he's kissing you? You have no complains. You let him be needy, let him touch you like an anguished men, like he encountered a glass of water after a long walk in the dessert. The kiss it's all teeth and bite — It's fast, messy, demanding and wet. He's grabbing you by the medal, tugging on the gold circle just to make you lean towards him, fingers now caressing on the skin of your throat now as he deepen the kiss, not even waiting for permission as he slides his tongue in, wanting more.

"So you wear my medal and i'll wear yours" his breathing collides against your skin soon after, planting kisses on the crook of your neck, drawn by your smell of peaches, the softness of your skin. "Say it, please say you'll do it."

Each second becomes a torture, a cruel joke when you were so invested in winning, something you don't care about now, that seems to be far from your interests as he squeezes the skin of your tight, toying with the hem of your shirt, the cotton fabric of your black t-shirt that only annoys him as he touches your stomach, the sweet intimacy he's been craving since the morning.

"I'll do it," you nod for a second—. "But you have to be convincing. Don't make me look like a fool."

"How could I?" he asks, utterly curious as he stops for a second to look at you. "You're a winner, anyone can tell."

It makes your blood rush. His words seems to hit the jackpot, cause your shirt's falling the floor, the door's being closed with lock, and suddenly, the air is hot, the only sound that filled the bathroom of the sorority being his kisses, your labored breathing as you forgot about the rest of the party.

It's not something you'd usually do, the rush of something so sporadic, so inconsistent, but you love the adrenaline, the touch of his hands, the electricity being poured down your spine.

"Nobody would even dare to think you're in reality a loser" he says, praising once again in his own way as he places a soft kiss on your lips, looking down at your hands now, fingers interwined now in his jeans. More. You want more. “A really hot second place.”

Your touch is getting more eager now, and as you unbuckle his pants, he's fucking whimpering, his hips moving in need for the friction the palm of your hand can offer, taunting him for a second before he's pulling down on his own underwear himself, the blue fabric of his jeans falling halfway over his tights.

Your hand leaves his body for a second, and he's ready to beg for more until he notices what you're really doing, a large amount of spit going into your hand in what Art could swear is the most erotic act he has ever seen, traces of drool on in your chin before your fingers finally hug his already hard cock.

Soon he's fucking your fist, burying his head in your neck, moaning and pleading you to keep on going, moving his hips fast enough to create a delicious sound you thrive on, ones that mixes damn well in the air. He's slightly sweaty, not like he was in the game, but enough to create this nice smell it only makes you addicted.

"Don't cum," you ask, and it's a lot when his movements are becoming more erratic at the time passes, incoherent words of praise and need as he bites on your neck—. "Art. Don't cum on my hand."

Fuck that.

His touch becomes desperate after that. The medal of the first place still on your bare chest, your black bra slightly up as he’s been touching you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, your skin almost glowing beneath the bathroom lights: He needs you more than what's actually possible, tugging on the button of your shorts, annoyed with the piece of fabric as he takes it off, the time it took to undress you being valuable time he simply doesn't want to waste.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks, making sure for a second you're okay, nodding in response before he grabs you by the hips only to push you in the position he wanted, finally throwing the damn shorts you're wearing to the floor before spreading your legs open, positioning himself in the middle. "God, you're such a fucking sight."

His voice is rough now, and that nice look on his face, that fucking rat smile, friendly even, is far erased from his lips now as he grabs his dick, pushing it between your folds without really fucking you, and the act is enough to make you moan when he’s moving his hips in a cruel pace, the tip of his cock leaking already against you clit. He’s fucking his own fist, your already dripping cunt making it easier for Art to slide as he wants to.

He spits, and it’s a crime cause nobody looks good while doing so, the trails of saliva that leaves his mouth land on his dick, coating your cunt before slightly pushing it inside with the help of his fingers, finally offering what you trully need—. And you feel him, inch by inch. When his fingers are grabbing you by the waist to keep you in place, pushing slowly until he’s deep inside, placing sloppy kisses all over your neck as you moan in response.

Art swears he’s in heaven. Invaded by an intense bliss as he began to move. The second place medal hits his torso, colliding against yours as he moves, and his left hand moves to grab a fistful of your hair just to pull it backwards, making your head follow the motion — He’s relentless, moving in a slow pace at first before gaining rythm, but shit. You’d lie if you didn’t say he knew what he was doing when his right thumb moves in circles over your swollen clit.

It’s hard to hate Art Donaldson like that. All whiny and pathetic, mumbling words about how warm your pussy is, how tight you feel, wet for him. It’s hard giving a fuck about the competition when he’s leaving your hair alone to instead grab the thread of the medal you’re wearing, the red ribbon that was on his neck before and now is hanging on yours, angling the medal so the thread is now choking you, pulling on the gold slightly to make it harder to breathe.

“C’mon, loser” he says with a cocky smile, looking down where his cock is, stretching you out to his liking with each thrust. “D’you feel that? How good your pretty pussy is taking me? That’s first place material there, champion material.”

You nod a couple of times, too fucked-out to function. Lewd sounds fill out the room after, the moans, the grunts, the coils of pleasure that started to form in the lower part of your belly, fueled by his rough movements now, leaving that soft touch behind to replace it with force, fingers digging on your skin so hard he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark behind.

Fuck it. Fuck the game, fuck second place. Your head hits the mirror behind the sink, yet it means nothing as you can feel the orgasm being poured all over by the minutes, the insane punch as he keeps on going, hitting that nice spot in an inconsistant pace as you come undone.

“God that’s it,” he says, pulling on the medal until your skin is changing fucking colors—. “That’s it, cum,” he demands. “Taking my cock like a fucking champion.”

He cums soon after you, pulling out as it lands on your stomach, the gold medal thats now resting on your belly stained with his cum.

And he melts in top of you for a second, breathing heavily against your neck, body covered in sweat before blushing slightly embarassed about the mess he did.

Weird enough, only one thought appears on his mind after five minutes: Just wait until you meet Patrick.

previous kinktober file [ dean winchester ] // masterlist

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Predator and Prey

Yandere Various Beastmen/ women x Human Afab Reader

You live in a world ruled by beast men where you are the lowest on the food chain. Sadly for you, you’re often treated like a play thing by your coworkers…

Tw: Breeding, lesbian sex, smut, mounting, predator/ prey dynamics, Yandere behavior, etc

Leveret- Holland Lop

Leveret was your sweet childhood friend and loyal companion! He was incredibly shy to the point you’d always have to stand up for him. He has always looked up to you ever since you were kids… you were his hero!

Leveret is your standard pretty boy. Hyper feminine and lean, he often wears pastels. His fawn colored hair is usually a bit long and very fluffy, just like his floppy ears! Leveret is very cute but equally pathetic. He never stands up for you, but you’re never upset with him since he is a rabbit. What could prey do to a predator other than run away? It made his heart soar that you were never upset with him… Leveret wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you hated him!

Leveret went to work in the office with you so the two of you are together forever (just like you promised as kids). He doesn’t want to lose sight of his shining star!

Leveret love when you scratch his ears. He automatically thumps his foot which makes him embarrassed so you often reassure him. Leveret loves how sweet you are to him.

Leveret secretly idolizes you and has an entire shrine dedicated to you. He’s a pathetic man. He’s too scared to confess his overwhelming feelings so he settles for collecting keepsakes from you. Nothing you’d ever miss of course, but they meant the world to him!

Chapsticks, silverware, panties, it didn’t matter! It was all kept in a box under his bed for him to romance through when he felt especially pathetic.

Leveret often huffed and humped your soiled panties like the pathetic loser he was! He’d be over the moon if you saw him like this… if you told him how pathetic he was. It was his deepest fantasy! To be dominated by you! To have his small, pathetic cock inside of you. He’s a bunny so he could go for hours! Whatever you want…

Leveret often stalks you when you’re not around him and it turns him on to see you taken advantage by the other beast men, especially Amara.

He often wishes he was a predator so he could be more dominant and confident but he’s okay being a prey instead. You’re never suspicious of him this way… so it’s much easier for you to let your guard down around him

Amara- Spotted Hyena

Amara has a dirty blonde and black spotted wolf cut and scars from one side of her cheek to the other. Her whole body is covered in scars from her constantly picking fights.

Amara is a bully. She’s the meanest coworker to you just because of your species (human).

She often slams her shoulder into yours, knocks your papers out of your hands, or spills food/ drinks on your clothes. Luckily her bullying is only physically since the entire office dislikes her. Arielle is especially not fond of Amara.

You often see the African lion and spotted hyena get into spats

Her loud cackles always fills the office which raised the concerns of your coworkers. Arielle is often the one to come to your rescue. Which only makes Amara more agitated

Yet despite her cruelty to you, you’re not mean to her since you understand why she is the way she is. She had a hard home life since she was the youngest in her pack so you knew she was trying to seek power elsewhere

It’s when Amara hears you defend her to Arielle that the bullying begins to stop. “I know it’s just Amara’s nature and if it makes her feel like the leader then she’s fine picking on me. I’m just a human anyways, it’s not like I could ever defend myself.” You understood her instincts? Amara didn’t think a human would understand her more than other beast men would… it started her interest in you.

Amara will stop being physically mean to you since you’ve shown submission to her. Now she will share her lunch with you in an, albeit, forceful way. She will scare off your bunny beast man friend so she can sit with you in the break room instead. The hyena insistent that you needed more protein or you’d be too weak.

Amara is insistent on walking you home. Her hyenas ears flip back and forth on her head to listen to any danger. Her scarred and muscular form was enough to intimidate anyone away from you. Not to mention her 5’11” frame. She was definitely a predator not to be messed with.

Amara will become suffocatingly clingy to the point your boss has to separate the two of you in fear of your safety (and a lawsuit). But that doesn’t stop her from finding you during break time (and to rip you away from Leveret)

Be prepared for the spotted hyena to corner you in the bathroom, her hands grabbing you in every place she can reach as her nose is buried in the crook of your shoulder. How could she not votive how good you smell?!

It isn’t long before she has you bend over the sink, her pseudo penis pressed against your backside as she humps you. She may not be a male, but her organ is perfectly functional for mounting. Won’t you indulge her? Amara hasn’t mounted anyone yet and you said you understood her nature. So won’t you indulge her? It’s not like you could defend yourself, you said so yourself…

Amara may be a woman but she was sure she could please you just as much as a man! The two of you could be mates!

Amara is quite rough and her psuedo penis is quite big. She’s a true dom and has a biting kink. It’s best to avoid being alone with her… unless you enjoy being mounted

Arielle- African Lion

Arielle is a respectable figure in the office. Her ginger hair is usually kept in a pixie cut. She’s a handsome woman with a scar across the right side of her lip. She’s usually the best dressed in the office. She often has to shave her face and arms since she’s a trans woman. Arielle hates her mane that constantly tries to grow back and the excessive body hair (but she’d be over the moon if you tell her you like her hairy arms, she’ll keep them then),

Arielle was the first in the office to take you under her wing and to protect you from the others. She isn’t very fond of the way the others treat you. You’re a rare human! You should be respected…

Arielle often carries extra set of clothes on her so you have something to change into when Amara decides to make you wear a meal or beverage. As much as Arielle hates Amara, it satiates a part of her that adores you in her clothes. Something about it is sexy to her. Especially from how much smaller you are than her.

If you seek her out for help or guidance, you’re instantly in her good graces. You feel safe around her? She’ll keep you safe. You like her clothes? She’ll bring you more. You like her hairy arms? She won’t shave them anymore. You think she’s a beautiful woman? She’ll show you how beautiful she finds you.

Arielle is the most passionate amongst the beast men. She loves to trail kisses across your neck and chest. Her clawed hands are always gentle so she doesn’t hurt you. She’s so happy you don’t mind her genitalia. It makes her cry and purr to be accepted.

Arielle is a little sucker for praise of any kind. She’s quite a lax lover but don’t let that fool you. Arielle is quite protective of you and is willing to shed blood for you if she has to.

Arielle doesn’t mind sharing you with Eden but she’s not fond of the other workers. She especially dislikes Amara and Leveret.

She scents you more than the other beast men. You often find lion hair all over your clothes after a night with her…

Conan- Eastern Wolf

Conan hates humans so he avoids you like the plague. If you try to talk to the gray haired man, he will leave the premises.

Conan is a very attractive man with long gray hair and icy blue eyes. He’s usually quite stoic and quiet so no one ever knows what he’s feeling if they look at his face… his tail tells a different story.

Conan will eventually open up to you when he sees how hard you try to understand the beast men’s behaviors. You’re not a bad human like the others he met and it was rude of him to make such an assumption.

Conan will apologize to you but he still keeps you at arms length, until he notices a certain rabbit being odd. Hell, everyone was odd to you. And Conan didn’t like it.

Conan will offer you solace if the others start to be too much. He’s a bit higher up in the office so you can hide in his office to get away from the stage five clingers but it won’t be long until they find you.

Conan is great at giving advice and he is a great listener. He just never expected to grow fond of you as well… you were too nice for your own good.

Conan refers to you as little red riding hood. “Little red, don’t you think you should avoid someone like me?” And you’d always smile at him. “I think you’re nice though, Conan. You have such kind eyes… I’m happy you became my friend.”

Curse you. Curse you and your kindness. Your gentle scratched behind his ears and your soft words that made his tail wag. Conan began to crave you more and more until all he wanted to do was to breed you like a proper mate should.

Conan will try to stay away from you when he’s in heat by locking himself up in his office. If you choose to ignore the “do not disturb” note on his door because the others are scaring you, he cannot guarantee he won’t pounce on you.

Conan would apologize the entire time as he stuffs you with his knot. But this was your fault. You should know not to get too close to a predator. Didn’t your family ever warn you about the big bad wolf, little red?

Eden- Grizzly Bear

This giant woman was in love with you at first sight. You’re so small compared to her and that meant you needed to be protected!

Eden is the tallest amongst the other people in the office. She’s built like a powerlifter with strong arms and a strong back but has a tummy on her. Her hair is in a chocolate brown mullet and she’s covered in tattoos. She is also openly lesbian.

Outside of work, Eden wears flannels and resides in a cabin in the woods. She enjoys hikes and wood cutting. You jokingly call her a lumberjack.

She loves to talk. Eden is the office chatter box with a gregarious personality. She’s quite boisterous but she’s not a bad person. Eden is thrilled that you don’t mind her incessant chatter, you’re one of the few people…

This giant woman often greets you with a toothy grin and shoves Amara away from you. She’s one of the few people in the office that likes humans. 

Eden will share all her snacks with you from the get go and she will be so happy if you share yours! Sharing is caring after all!

Eden loves honey straws that are supposed to be used for tea. She sucks on them like suckers any chance she gets. You often stress concern for her and her love of sweets but not to worry! She’s a grizzly bear! She will be perfectly okay!

She may seem like an idiot but she’s far from it. She notices the way Amara changes her beat around you in a second. And she doesn’t like it. If you build a strong bond with Eden, Eden will go to the bathroom with you and she will pull Amara off you. A bear is not to be messed with, especially not a grizzly.

Now you have this tank of a woman following you around work. Eden offering you snacks and protection in exchange for you talking with her. She’s a lax Yandere save for her over protectiveness.

Eden will take you on hikes and foraging in the woods. She will even teach you which berries and mushrooms are edible! Whatever you want, she will be happy to oblige.

Eden is perfectly okay with just being friends too. She doesn’t mind! Eden just likes being around you. But if you want more with her or if you want a third, she’s open.

Eden is a very giving lover. You will be her cute little princess pillow almost every time. She’d rather do all the work so the two of you can cuddle and watch movies but won’t reject you if you want to go down on her. She gets especially riled up if you offer to suck her strap. How naughty

Eden wouldn’t mind sharing with her best friend, Arielle. She finds it kind of hot to have you crying and moaning under her and the lioness. She’s kind of jealous that Arielle would be able to get you pregnant while she can’t, but she’s still happy to stuff your cute pussy with her strap or her fingers. You’re so fucking cute. Won’t you stay with her forever?

The two (or three) of you could live a pretty efficient life in the woods. So why don’t you just stay here where she can properly protect you?

[sstrwbrryccke]

— bullying him pt.4 | sub soobin

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

tags: loser!nerd!soobin x bully!mean!reader, gn reader, sadistic reader, masochistic soobin, dubcon, hate fingering, sadist x masochistic relationship, mutual pining, mild violence, hurt w comfort, mean dirty talk, reader's genitals are unclear and can be interpreted as either a cock or a strap, misunderstandings, public bathroom indecency, bdsm, happy ending!!!

the long await part 4 is here!! i tagged everyone who wanted a part 4 i hope you aren't too irritated by the tag >.< i did this very tired and sleep deprived so i hope it makes sense HAHAHA

tags: @yaegerphobic @strwbrryjaem @ke4s @sk104kx @bennybenten @queer-n-here @sleeping143 @browni-bin @skinnyzlegendz @roturo @zuzuhasablog

something changed after that date, you could feel it, soobin could feel it and the other classmates felt it too. it was the lingering touches, the maintained gazes during class. the way he dared to stare for just a second longer. you didn't want to admit it, and it was initially easy to ignore the problem. it's not like you weren't used to overlooking soobin. he was simply an accessory in your eyes, what's the use in admiring the shine of a singular gem on a sapphire bracelet?

though, perhaps your dismissiveness was your greatest achilles heel after all. in the end, an undeniable itch would creep up on the back of your neck. like a minuscule mosquito sting that would bloom into large red welts. it started irritating you to a degree. sure you were blatantly ignoring the man, but can a contradiction not be such opposing parallels?

because how dare he, even for a second, ignore you back?

maybe it was the small sigh of relief he let out when you passed by, or the way he kept his head down low when he exited the class. when did it start to bother you so much?

no way. he would come running back. he always did and he always will, you know it in your bones, he will come back he will. what's a victim without a bully? a nerd without a jock??? a locker without a dim-witted loser to push into????????

you will wait it out, wait for him to come out crawling and kneeling, grasping at your leg like a devout to their divine deity— prayers forcing their way frantically out of his mouth.

but seconds tick by, days even, and suddenly it's been two weeks already with no movement. all silent on the battlefront. is this what it's like for drinks to fizzle out at the bottle of a can? when a songbird no longer sings for the morning sun? and the stars no longer shine for the moon? and whatever next poetic quote that rhymes with moon?

damn, what a sad and pathetic way to conclude it. so this is the ending chapter of the depressing story of a mega fluke and his cool fling.

is what you would say if you were the cowardly choi soobin!!!

because you weren't a pussy, and you certainly weren't one to give up on your pride. so be it, if he wants you to come to him, you'll give it to him.

☆★☆

your glare bore holes into the hunched back of choi soobin. now see, normally you wouldn't even gift that loser a glance in his direction, too risky to pay him attention and blow the cover of your unconventional connection after all. but this was a special occasion, and you felt like your nerves were lit on fire, like a hormonal teenager going through puberty again. it was abnormal for everyone else too, many did not even know the unimportant side character soobin was even associated with you, arguably the most interesting (or maybe the right word is known) person in the classroom.

the metal keys weigh heavy in your uniform pants (retrieved from the staffroom after many great excuses to convince your teacher), waiting for the right moment to pounce. come on soobin, you dare him to move. fall right into the metal prongs.

"—dude, hey— HEY!" one of your friends, kiwoo, shook your shoulder, hard enough that you broke your gaze just for a second. you snap your head at him, giving him an irritated look that makes him retreat his hand.

"what's with you?" he says, suspicious, "you've been glaring at soobin ever since he entered the classroom. what? he gave you bad head or something?"

"not funny." you roll your eyes.

"is there something happening between the two of you? it doesn't feel like a simple errand boy situation anymore. you're not nonchalant and mysterious for ignoring the question by the way."

you groan, this really wasn't the time for it. what kind of excuse can you even give him? that the weird situationship you had with soobin backfired and now you're acting like an angsty possessive insecure spouse trying to get him back? tough shit.

"it's not even that deep, kiwoo. he just pissed me off this morning, that's all." you scoff out an excuse, hoping that's enough to deter your nosy friend. you look back at where soobin was seated— shit where did he go?!

"what did he do now?—" "not the time, he's gone, where did he go?" you look around, irritation seeping into your voice.

"chill, he probably just went to the b—"

you stand up, muttering another alibi before dashing out of the classroom. you catch a glimpse of his white shirt turning the corner, bingo, he's headed to the restroom! your heart thumps in your throat as you approach the bathroom, was the dominos actually falling into place? you can't believe your stupid plan was working.

once you reach the entrance, you silently take a breath, getting ready for the confrontation. you step in, closing the restroom door behind you with the keys, and you hear an all too familiar gasp as the lock sets into place.

"oh, you, the door,"

his stupid voice stutters out (you missed hearing it), shaky eyes meeting yours. he was sweating visibly, like this was a horror game and he just came face to face with the final boss.

"so—sorry wrong room!" he turns around like an npc reciting a practised line, only to be met with the tile wall, what a dumb bunny. when he pivots back around, you are already eye-to-eye with him. his voice hitches, a pathetic excuse for a squeal, and the world spins— you pin him into the wall right behind him. he would crumble onto the floor right there if it weren't for your hands holding his wrists up.

there was a moment of silence between you two, his eyes scattering around as if the gum on the floor was suddenly so much more interesting than the person in front. he bites his bottom lip in fear.

"oh stop it i told you before to not bite your chapped lips." the first words exchanged, a command that he obeys immediately like following your words was as natural as breathing. you forgot how satisfying it was to order him around.

"care to explain why you're avoiding me?" your tone sharp and cutting; as if you were physically pressing a knife up against his chest. he tries to talk. lip trembling, eyes closing, but all that comes out is a fearful whimper. you click your tongue in irritation, releasing one of his wrists— which limply drops to his side like a ragdoll. using your free hand you grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

"answer."

he tears up, sniffling as he tries not to sob. "m' sorry... i—i'm sorry for ignoring you."

you felt a pang in your heart, you can't tell if it was guilt or anger. "shit quit apologising and just answer my question. why were you avoiding me."

his shoulders were raised all the way up as if he was expecting you to smack him across the cheek, his whole body was wrecked with trembles and you're impressed he wasn't full-on sobbing yet. his face was red and holy shit no fucking way he was hard. what a strong sense of deja vu, wasn't this exactly how this whole mess started in the first place? you just stare at him for a minute, shaking and quivering with a bulge, no answer on his tongue.

"are you fucking for real? what'd i expect from a masochistic dog. of course, you're getting off from this." you grit your teeth, was he just using you for a quick jerk? that this was his kink this whole time and he only ever saw you as a fuck partner? did he ignore you simply so you would snap and give him exactly what he wants???

and for some reason, you felt betrayed, as if there was actually some relationship between you two. how hypocritical too, did you not also see soobin as sexual relief? wasn't he supposed to be an obedient mouth that opened for your dick? why was your fist clenching and veins pumping as if you caught your long-term partner cheating???

"maybe the only way to get shit through your thick skull is to fuck it out of you huh? bend you over in front of everyone with your ass out as you get fucking drilled by a big fat cock? is that what you want?" your words come out forced and throbbing red with anger.

"i—"

you clasp a rough hand over his throat, though you didn't actually squeeze, he shuts up immediately, eyes wide and fingers quivering. you almost rip his pants down, taking his underwear as well in one swift motion. he snivels pathetically, helplessly being led around as you savagely grasp his hair. you pull him to the sink, forcing him to bend over in front of the mirror. he desperately clutches the edges of the sink with a grunt, otherwise he might be toppled over by your rough handling. his body leaning down with his elbows bent onto the sink edge.

you grip his hair, painfully hard, his scalp must be killing him. you lift his head up until he's staring at his face in the reflection. it was like a brush with scarlet paint used his face as a canvas. his cheeks red and trembling. tears bulge on the edge of his eyes, threatening to slip out any second. his lips long-bitten and bleeding.

"keep staring at your slutty self. watch how pathetic and ugly you're gonna look when you get your organs fucked out. if you break your gaze even for a second i'll fucking kill you."

you cuss with every malevolence in your soul, for a second soobin thinks you might actually kill him. he holds in his breath as if one more sound from him will settle the hatred in your heart and murder him. you spit down onto his ass, watching as it dribbles down, you abruptly prod at his hole. not waiting like you would before. breaking through the rim and forcing your finger in like an intruder.

he loudly groans out in agony, body shuddering and wavering. you smack him over the head. "quit moving so much. shit, i wasted so many stupid gifts on you. and to think i was saving up the actual fucking for something more special. like we were actually a couple or something. but now you're gonna get your organs reorganised in a public bathroom. i guess that's suiting for a whore like you."

he grits his teeth in pain, trying to endure the pain and the humiliation for you. he stares at himself in the mirror in despair, brows furrowed and his vision blurry, his glasses were knocked off his nose from all the movement, but he keeps looking at himself just like you commanded. not trying to disobey you. why did he do that for you? it pissed you to new heights. why was he still acting like he was a goodie two shoes who didn't want to displease you?

you thrust the finger in and out with no care, barely being assisted by your makeshift lube to slide against his walls. his soft whimpers barely slipping out. you press another finger against his hole and this time he does stir, he jerks away. incoherent protests come out when he feels the second finger try to enter.

"break! a break! please give me uh a break b—before the second!" he begs, on the verge of breaking into full sobs.

"what makes you think you can bargain?"

he shivers at your harsh words, head hanging in shame. it was so pathetic, you feel a small semblance of pity, spitting more on his ass to assist the second. but you weren't merciful by any standard and promptly slid the two fingers in.

his shoulders shake, feeling full already with the two fingers. tears finally slip out in both overwhelming pain and pleasure. he hadn't touched himself ever since the last time you two met.

your ruthless fingers pump in and out of his ass like you were digging for his stomach, violently pressing against his prostate. it hurts like crazy. a primal and animalistic type of pain. but oh man, the electricity zipping through his body was hitting all the right places. it felt so wrong yet so right. like he belonged here pressed underneath your feet and hands. this felt like pleasure. his dick was tall and alert, pent up and ready to burst. his body begged for more while his mind was praying for mercy.

he thrashes around with each new thrust, being unable to control his body as a guttural wail forces its way out of his mouth. the slopping of skin slapping skin fills your ears. you grunt as you tighten your hold on his hair, trying to get him to stop moving. the more you ram your fingers into his prostate, the more frantic he becomes, one of his hands coming up to weakly pry at your hand holding his hair. you let go of your grip on his scalp to instead pull his body flush against your chest, hand snaking to the front and onto his throat. your fingers ceasing to stop with its insane momentum.

"please— no more— have me—mercy! i'm so sorry i'm so sorry i'm sorry—" he begs endlessly, sobbing and shaking his head, struggling against your hold.

you ignore his pleas, hand trailing down from his throat to his lower stomach, you can feel the movement of your fingers. suddenly, you push your palm down on his lower abdomen, right above his prostate. just as your two fingers press into the glands. he cries out, head blanking into sparks of light and stars. his cock spasming as he spurts out white stripes, shooting onto the mirror. his hands that were frantically prying at your wrists limps down.

your lips curl into a cruel smile, a sense of satisfaction raking over your body. you slid your two fingers out of his hole. a scoff comes out, naturally.

"hah. you came? i wasn't even trying to pleasure you, and you came like a little..."

your nasty words drift off as you look at him in the mirror. the room is now uncomfortably quiet, only the weeping and sobbing of soobin echoing in the restroom. he looks like a wreck, not in a sexy, sweaty way. but in a heart-hanging, guilt-tripping way. his face was painted with tears, snot and substance. eyes closed and afraid to look up at you. his body exhausted and leaning against you, he didn't even have the energy to quiver.

you did this to him, you absolutely ruined his pretty face and his sweet eyes. you actually deserve hell. what was wrong with you? how could you do this to someone so cute and precious? soobin deserved the world and so much more, he deserved everything good and nice and sweet and right on this earth. but what happened at that moment, how did you get here?

suddenly it was like your throat was constricted and swollen, lips dry with unsaid words. what do you say? apologise? promise to leave him alone forever?

"i..."

"i'm sorry..." he beats you to it with shaky words.

"holy shit no— no no, don't apologise." you quickly mumble, holding him up.

"i— i was scared, i didn't know how you would react. because i think, i think i'm insane, i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared you would be disgusted" his words tumble out breathlessly, you just stare silently in shock.

"i'm sorry— i don't get myself either, because everything about you drives me crazy and i can't be around you— i know i'm a masochistic dog but i just can't help it— no matter what you do to me makes me like you more, d—don't hate me please. i'm such a freak—" his words are barely coherent as he sobs.

"shh shhh shh it's okay, calm down soobin, calm down." you try to comfort him, beyond confused and shocked. he's crying so hard he's hiccuping and stammering. you help him lean on a wall and he slides down, you frantically kneel down to try and ground him.

"i— i don't want you to hate me— but your attention just feels so good to me— anything— any attention you give me it just shakes me to my core... i couldn't do it anymore—hic— i had to avoid you hick—" he hides his face in his hands. you try to understand his words, your head spiralling in turmoil. he what? he avoided you because you gave him too much attention? what kind of fucked up logic was that? this was starting to sound like those cliche misunderstanding tropes in romcoms. nevermind that, you had a sexually confused pile of fluff to comfort.

"soobin breathe, hey, come on." you say as softly as you can, like you were trying to approach an injured bunny in the wild. no matter, your heart pangs with guilt as he keeps crying. you pull him into a hug on your lap, wrapping your arms tight around his frame. this seems to make him cry more, but he leans into you, knees bundled tight against his chest as he savours the warmth. you two stay on the floor in this strong embrace. you coo sweet and reassuring words into his ear as you rock him back and forth, doing your best to console him. kissing each tear as it falls.

his sobs quiet down with each passing minute until there was only silence and mute sniffling. it was bizarre to cuddle on the restroom floor, but it was nice, and you have to admit that you do like soobin in your arms. not embracing him in sex, but in comfort and simply to make him feel good. this was crazy hypocritical to say, considering he was partly crying due to your assholery.

after a few more minutes of silence, you glance at soobin, still hidden away by his hands. "soob, come on, look at me." you coo into his ear, and he makes a small noise of acknowledgement. your hands gently pry at his hands and he lets you remove his shield from his face. he looks at you pitifully, eyes red and puffy from the crying, pouting. you kiss his cheek, you don't know why you did it, but it felt right to. "do you want to talk to me now?"

he nods, but hides his face in your shoulder.

"i... i'm crazy and a freak. you hurt me, you humiliate me, you cause me so much pain."

you grimace, stroking his hair. yeah, that sounds about right. if there was one thing consistent about your inconsistent personality, it was how much of an asshole you are. if soobin was your salvation, it was like the angels gave you a second chance at life. but you honestly wouldn't blame them if the ground caved beneath you right now and sent you straight to hell. was it bad to say you enjoyed all the sadistic acts? probably. you can't lie and say you regret being a sadist. but if it makes it better, you do regret the pain soobin is feeling right now.

"but... please don't hate me for this..."

"i won't hate you, soobin." you encourage him to keep talking, shushing his worries away.

"i like all of it, i like it so much it drives me crazy. i'm abnormal, i know. and i get it if you think i'm disgusting. but i'm so obsessed with you. i think about the things you do to me every night, i replay it in my head over and over again until i'm touching myself again. the more you hurt me, the more i like you... but... but you kept avoiding me, and i thought you knew how i felt and you were disgusted... and if that was the case... i didn't want to get hurt anymore..." he confesses fully, face buried deep in your neck and you feel your shirt slowly wet with his tears again.

it was silence, absolute, bewilderment from your side. the quiet seems to gnaw at soobin's heart, because he lifts his head up, gaze lowered as he stutters. "i— i get it if you're disgusted, my feelings are so strang—"

"soobin, you're a proper, proper masochist, wow." you breathe out. lifting his face up gently with two of your hands. wiping away his tears with your sleeve.

"oh..." he just mouths, mind seemingly blank. confused by how mundane your reaction was.

"wait, so how'd you feel about what we did just then? did you like it?"

"i... didn't like you being angry at me..."

"but what about the feeling? the fingering? the rough treatment?"

he blushes. "i liked the rough treatment." he pauses for a moment. "and you paying attention to me again."

the both of you fall quiet and he crumbles at the scrutiny. you knew soobin was masochistic and that he liked you. this was not new information. shit, you knew this from the beginning. so what changed? why did you freak out and go ballistic? why'd you corner him and demand him to tell you why he avoided you? why'd you force him to endure all that pain?

"i... i was so mean to you today... i... because you kept, looking away from me, and, ignoring my gaze and avoiding me. i thought..." the words fall into noiseless void. burning on the tip of your tongue.

"i thought you didn't like me anymore,"

you admit, shame and humiliation weighing down your heart. for a self-proclaimed smartass, you were sure stupid and dense to your own emotions. when did it start? when did you actually start caring about the loser? maybe the answer was simpler than that, you never felt the feelings creeping up to you, because, in truth, you've always been looking at him. maybe that's why you picked on him so easily, always eyeing for his reaction. shit, what a twisted way your heart works. but damn did you have a lifetime of sins to atone for.

soobin was blinking up at you blearily, clearly confused and oblivious to the conclusion in your head. you pick up his cracked glasses from the ground, gently inserting them behind his ears. (you'll buy him another pair later.)

"you don't hate me?" his voice was weak and hopeful. you scoff.

"you're too easy to bully and pick on. it's the complete opposite idiot. i just have a shitty way to show my feelings, and you're unfortunately the victim." it takes a moment for him to process your words, and his face morphs into a cute kind of shock, he is ecstatic, you can tell by the way his dimples deepen. you really didn't deserve this man or any of the feelings he has, for some reason, god was merciful and sent the perfect masochistic man to slot into your sadistic tendencies.

"but... isn't our relationship weird?" he frowns.

"we crossed that line the moment i fingered you dude." he chuckles at this, caught off guard. and you appreciate the clear ringing of his laughter without any more denial.

"honestly, you picked such a shitty person to crush on. i'm the worst, i like being mean to you. i like humiliating you, i like the feeling of having you grovel at my feet."

his face reddens with each word, hiding his face into your shoulder again. you lean into him, appreciating the silky softness of his hair.

"i don't deserve you. i'm an idiot, it took what? months of sexual tension and emotional buildup for me to realise i actually like you instead of hating you?" you ramble, he snorts.

"but i'll make it up to you, i promise." you can tell he was blushing by the heated tips of his ears. this was nice, him in your lap. he's still a loser, but he's your loser. (gross, you reconsider taking everything back with this one thought.)

"let's get out of here first. screw class, we're gonna graduate anyways, what are the teachers gonna do?"

"and i should wear some pants..." he comments.

"that too."

☆★☆

you do a final check over at soobin, ointment applied and bandaged up. he looks out of place in your fancy bedroom and it makes you snicker. once a loser, forever a loser.

"okay, that's it. does it hurt anywhere else?" you ask, setting down the ointment. he's only injured slightly, it was mostly his bitten lip and some bruises from the rough handling.

he nods and you instantly look at him with concern. "where? where and what hurts?"

he exaggeratedly points at his heart and you scoff, rolling your eyes, trying your hardest not to smile at his antics. "what does the big baby want?"

soobin is pensive and shy at first, he wasn't expecting you to take his dramatics seriously. but soon his lips curl into a cheeky grin. "...cuddles, and kisses." you blush at the idea, grimacing. you stand up and walk away from him towards the bed.

soobin panics at your reaction. "s—sorry! i was being stupid, you don't have to take it seriously, don't leave me!"

"shut up, do you want it or not?" you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. arms stretched out. he grins widely, hurrying up to jump into your arms. you two roll over into the bed as you stretch the blanket to cover your bodies. you admire soobin's joyful expression, stroking his hair.

don't get it wrong, you still think such blatant displays of affection were cringe, and soobin was still a loser. but maybe it was never that deep, and you could definitely see yourself get used to this.

you lean down, your lips connecting with his, he feels so plush and soft underneath you. he's still a masochistic dog definitely, and you still think he's a pervert, but he's also so precious and lovable, there was so many things you could list about him.

you two separate. he seems beyond pleased with himself, burying his face into your neck. "i feel like this is all a dream, and i'm going to wake up."

"don't insult me, dream me could never kiss this well." you roll your eyes. he snickers.

"yeah, you're right. no one else could make me feel this way except real you."

you feel yourself grin, really grin. not out of malice, a grin of genuine satisfaction and joy. you feel your eyelids drooping as soobin drifts to sleep in your arms. if you told younger you that this was how things would turn out with soobin, they probably would've cussed and flipped you out.

oh well. they will come to accept it eventually anyways. this wasn't so bad after all.

end.

☆★☆ BONUS SCENE

soobin drools, senses heightened. tied up, gagged, blindfolded and a vibrator pressing at his cock. he wasn't going to last much longer. you were cruel, so fucking cruel. and he had no idea where you even were. did you leave him? how long has it been? minutes? hours? did you leave the room?

he was snapped back to reality by a harsh slap on his thigh. he trembles and sobs, curling into himself. he feels a pressure at the back of his head before the gag loosened up, allowing him to breathe and talk.

"pl—please, can't, can't— gon cum, can't hold it in. mercy, please mercy." he cries out, voice broken. he sobs and thrashes around. hoping he can charm his way out of this. he was going to burst any moment and he was going to be punished harshly for disobeying you.

"colour?" you whisper by his ear, making him jump with a whimper.

"g—green." he sniffles.

"good boy." you coo, stroking his chest, circling around one of his nipples. he cries, nerves jerking all over the place. "beg for it."

"please..." he begins, swallowing down a sob.

"please fuck me... please give me permission to cum— i— i can't last any longer— hic!"

you interrupt him with a large intrusion in his ass, he almost mewls in both pleasure and pain. "a—ah! so big, feeeels good, uhhg feels so good. love you, love you."

you grin cruelly, thrusting into him hard and accurate. the pleasure he was in twists into panic as he realises you hadn't given him permission to cum yet. and if you kept going at this pace, he was surely going to cum before your permission.

"w—wait ple—ease let me cum! i've been good, i've been good! please let me cum, i've been so good for you!" he snivels, were you going to be nice or heartless today? the closer he reaches to his climax, the more he frets. grovelling down at you, begging relentlessly for permission. before long, he feels his limit.

"i'm going to oh god i'm going to! i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm so disobedient i'm going to disobey you! i feel it— hic—" he cries louder, and just before he climaxes, you press down on his lower stomach, whispering in his ear.

"come for me baby."

with that, his body violently convulses, and his back arches as his mouth opens in a silent scream. cum forces its way out of his painfully hard dick, a guttural groan digs its way out as he empties completely onto the bed.

after his ejaculation, he huffs heavily, whines mixed in with his wheezing. you let him ride out his orgasm, pulling out of him. you untie him and take off the blindfold. kissing him sweetly.

"you did so well, you were so cute soob." you cheekily grin. he smiles tiredly up at you. body sore and thoroughly ruined. he stretches his arms out and you take it as a signal to lift him up into your lap.

he settles into your embrace like it is the most natural thing in the world. giggling into your shoulder. "that was amazing, i love you so much."

"i gueesss i love you." you tease.

"hey!"

you chuckle, kissing his cheek. "just kidding, i love you." soobin whispers a quiet 'i know.'

you two enjoy each other's company for a second, only interrupted by soobin's growling stomach. "greedy." you jab at him with a grin and he pouts.

"i'll get you something to eat at the convenience store." you shake your head, getting up to leave but soobin tugs at your sleeve.

"i'm going to be lonely, take me with you!"

you roll your eyes at his dramatic antics, but oblige anyways.

☆★☆

at the convenience store, you buy a simple bread bun for soobin, your hands warming up in your pockets as he enjoys his snack. it was a cold winter, and you wanted to return back to your apartment as soon as possible.

"yo!"

a vaguely familiar voice calls out, you turn around to be met with a recognizable face, a gasp on your lips—

"holy shit, kiwoo! i haven't seen you since graduation." soobin vaguely identify the man as one of your old high school friends.

"it's been quite a few years, hasn't it," he chuckles, though confusion was evident in his eyes as he recognises soobin.

"soobin? what are you doing here?" he pauses, glancing between you, and then soobin, and then you. like the gears of a clock slowly turning.

"you guys are still friends?" he asks.

you and soobin exchange a look. "not really." you chuckle.

he tilts his head and you dutifully wrap an arm around soobin's waist. a cheeky grin on your face as you show off the glinting gem on your finger.

"he's my fiance, obviously."

★★★ end ★★★

an: i hope you guys enjoyed the fic and the ending!!! it took a lot of contemplating on how i was going to end this highly anticipated series... i do have a lot of inbox asks for alternative realities and spin-offs, so i will probably work on them next!!! also so sorry for disappearing for like multiple months... i had been so busy with life help!!!

anyways... reshares and comments are always appreciated! please do let me know how you felt about the fic....

[verysium]

ACT 1, SCENE 1: blue lock headcanons

rin is the type to have hyper-fixations, except you would literally never know. this man is discreet, as in batman level of shadiness. one time, he accidentally took too much adderall at 3 a.m. and considered making a shrine of you inside his bedroom closet. he was already halfway done with printing and cutting out your pictures before he realized what he was doing. that was the only time you caught him slipping, and he doesn't even remember most of it. definitely makes little voodoo dolls and sticks pins in the people he hates (looking at you, isagi.)

sae smells like fresh linens and warm laundry. sometimes, if you snuggle up to him, you can also sniff out hints of the sea. if you asked him what shampoo he uses though, he would not know. (it's definitely a 5-in-1 though since this man emphasizes practicality above all else.)

kaiser is secretly a pathetic coward with zero pain tolerance. he had a smug smirk on his face the entire time he got his blue rose tattoo done because of how badly he wanted to impress you. definitely went home later that day and cried from the pain. he would scream and be an overdramatic baby when you tried to remove the saniderm.

rin would insist that he is not like sae in the slightest but then proceeds to act like a sore loser when he doesn't immediately win. do not challenge him to any game that involves a ball. competitiveness runs through the entire itoshi bloodline.

sae is financially illiterate. he would definitely buy you anything you looked at for longer than 0.5 seconds. when the cashier asks him where to send the check, he tells them to ring it all up on his manager. definitely does not know how much is too much.

reo tried to get nagi into houseplants once he saw how lackluster nagi's apartment was. but all of them except the cactus died since nagi forgot to water them. choki is obviously a trooper.

rin is lactose-intolerant, but his gourmand tastebuds only allow him to drink one specific brand of almond milk. would make you drive two hours back to the grocery store just because you accidentally forgot to get the unsweetened version without the artificial vanilla flavoring.

noa is very grounded, mostly due to his background but also because of his personality. definitely the type to be rich but not act rich. he would get along very well with keanu reeves. that's not to say he won't spoil you though. this man would let you have whatever you wanted, so long as it was reasonable.

sae is a horrible gift-giver. every christmas, he gives you socks, a mug, or some random overpriced souvenir he panicked and bought at the airport on the way home. needless to say your kitchen is now overcrowded with jumbo fridge magnets and keychains.

shidou would flirt with the entire female population but with an almost exclusive emphasis on teachers. if you showed up one day wearing a pencil skirt, he would go absolutely feral.

rin used to be the shortest in his class back in primary school. he went home after picture day and cried because they made him stand on the bottom row for the class picture. years later though, he now towers over both you and sae.

chigiri was very close to his older sister when growing up. she definitely forced him into some very embarrassing predicaments. one time, his sister made him model all of her dresses, and he paced around the hallway in full catwalk style for an entire afternoon. because his sister used to play with his hair, he always makes you run your fingers through his locks and do the braids for him. it's a force of habit.

chris heavily overuses cologne despite being the touchiest man in existence. he doesn't understand why people try to distance themselves from him. no one told him he smelled like an entire distilled perfumery until the day you came into his life.

rin gets jealous over sae's fangirls, especially the ones that carry around cardboard signs during games. a fan wants to get married to his brother? not on his watch. you had to physically drag him out one time because he was infinitesimally close to throwing hands.

kunigami is a firm believer in women's rights (and wrongs.) one time his sisters were bullied at school for their dresses, so he showed up fully decked in hello kitty merchandise and a hot pink bow on his head just to show the boys that feminine wear can be cool too. toxic masculinity is actually scared of him.

sae had a teacher phase as a child, except everything was football related. he sat rin down in front of a whiteboard while he took a stick and walked his little brother through every single passing combination in existence. also deliberately gave rin a failing grade because his standards are so high. rin started crying, and sae felt bad, so he changed them all into passing marks.

nagi definitely plays dress up games on his phone. sometimes when you're both rotting in bed on a saturday evening, he asks you if he should use pink or blue eyeshadow for the disney princess for whom he's currently giving a makeover.

sae keeps random hair ties on his wrists. the tabloids used to speculate that those hair ties were evidence for him dating someone in secret. lo and behold, the paparazzi later catches him shopping for groceries with his hair tied up in pigtails. those hair ties are, in fact, only for him.

niko has family issues, no explanation needed. definitely had some unresolved trauma on his mother's side. he secretly thinks he doesn't deserve you, but your kindness is always there to bring him away from his insecurities.

hiori has curated playlists for every mood. his taste is absolutely immaculate. when you go on late night drives with him, he's always in charge of the speakers. doesn't want you to know that music used to be his place of solace during the times his parents were fighting, but the warmth of your hand on his makes him believe that everything will be alright.

rin used to get a high fever at night sometimes, but instead of going straight to his parents, he would creep into his brother's room and hover above the bed like a specter. rin would stand there and just whisper, "sae, i frew up." after he started dating you though, he just climbs under the sheets without asking. please take care of this poor boy.

nagi massacres his exams with absolutely illegible penmanship but then proceeds to get every single question correct. his teacher never put his work up on the wall because it looked entirely like chicken scratch. you had to reteach him the entire alphabet just so people could actually understand his written work.

rin and sae both get sunburnt easily, except sae actually cares for his skin and meticulously puts on sunscreen beforehand. one time, you three all went to the beach and rin was the only one who came home looking like a burnt tomato.

barou used to live with his grandmother every summer, and she would force him to clean the entire house with her. that is where he picked up such good cleaning habits. his personal hygiene is impeccable, and he would love nothing more than to brush his teeth with you every morning and make the bed together. spring cleaning is his favorite hobby.

sae was on spider-catching duty every time there was an arachnid longer than 5 centimeters in the house. he would pick up the spider with bare hands while you and rin both stood in the corner of the bathroom, trying to act cool but internally screaming.

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111 @lucasisstupid @lu-ferri12 @fandom-queen37 @ilunapb @skyeliteratures @shannoncosplay @da-disappointment @memospacexx @crazyforbarnes

[tame-the-lion-writes]

favorite CoD headcanons/prompts

konig

I love pathetic König drabble. I love when people write him as a massive pathetic wet cat of a man. He’s a loser and a simp, but he’s sweet, but he’s socially incompetent and what a moood. Yes, he’s frighteningly competent on the field, but he practically lives in war and doesn’t know how to connect with people outside of that life. So enter this pretty little thing and he’s all stumbling over himself—a massive creature who just wants to hold someone so tiny

And speaking of tiny!— the headcanon that he’s a cat/bunny person! That he’s supposed to be this battering ram brute but he’s also learned to be gentle when it really counts, and he scoops up adorable animals whenever they’re in sight

Also the idea that König is particularly weak to bakers. Baking means home, and so does the smell of whatever you’ve put in the oven. It’s the ✨domesticity✨ and he’s practically floating in midair like a character in an old cartoon. In short, big man following after smol baker. Perfection.

Price

Bear!Price! Literally and figuratively! He’s so round and warm and he’s got the kindest eyes, and he will wrestle his cubs soldiers into place! I don’t want him to have a six pack. He’s got strong arms, hair all over, and a belly. That’s all he needs

Dark(er)!Price, too. And I don’t mean that in like a possessive, obsessive smut sort of way. I think a lot of fluffier fanfic surrounding Price has him characterized as super soft (which I still love—don’t get me wrong). Still, while he’s very much the dad of the group and openly loving/caring towards certain people, he’s still a morally gray character because (even in his own words) he HAS to be. This man is a captain and he gets 👏 things 👏 done 👏 AKA making tough choices and justification over idealism

Ghost

Fics where Ghost gets married before Price. Cause everyone thinks Price would find a wife first, but I think Price would like the slow roll whereas Ghost would finally, finally find someone and latch on. Because yeah, he’s definitely afraid of losing you—he’s lost a lot of things in this world, and the 141 and war seem to be the only continuity, BUT!— once that wall is broken down and he allows himself to have something, he’s making sure he won’t ever let go. Because that love is his, his, his. In the purest, most selfless way possible

Ghost being characterized not as pretty, but someone who was pretty. I forget who wrote the blurb about it, but I just love the idea that he used to be conventionally attractive, and now his face is carved in, scarred, etc. He’s got burn marks littered up and down his skin, and it’s angry and red, and all the parts that weren’t burn were somehow torn apart anyway. He’s a man with too many stories to tell, and it shows but we love him anyway

[ma1dita]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEE <3

🐥 luke castellan x reader in a long distance relationship & he calls her after he’s had a few drinks bc he misses her (fluff or smut, whatever u want)

MWUAH

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: loser!luke? more like whipped!luke, very whiny.... i believe in my heart he's an ass man but that's me being self-indulgent anyways smut but he just masturbates because he's a needy fuck

wc: 914

frances made me do it blame her i'm putting my phone away in fear

At first it was a good idea.

Picking colleges an hour away from each other seemed like the right thing to do, a very mature adult thing even—especially after spending a good four years of being attached to each other at Camp Half Blood. Personal growth, you both reasoned, and college was a great way to branch out and be independent. You didn’t need to be with each other 24/7, and seeing each other on weekends wasn’t all that bad. Luke couldn’t give less of a shit now though—he’s tipsy after downing a few Heinekens and all he can think about are very R-rated adult things he did with you last weekend when he went to visit. 

Some things never change, and he reckons he’d settle for anything you give him, whether it be a picture of your ass or the sound of your voice over the phone. His hands fumble with his belt buckle as he sprawls across the couch in his apartment. The sound of the phone ringing adds to his anticipation until he hears a click and your voice filters through like music to his ears.

“Miss me, baby?”

“Like you wouldn’t imagine,” he sighs, noticing his cock stand at attention at the few words that have left your mouth. He’s convinced you’re a witch of some sort—that or he’s been pavloved to feel hot at even the idea of you. Cheeks flushing, he can’t help but stick his hand in his boxers and stroke himself as you tell him about the paper you’re writing, steady tap-taps of your keyboard in the background as he strokes himself slowly. Your voice is hushed to not wake up your roommate, but well, his dick is fully awake at the sound of your murmurs. Only you could make the Ides of March sound sexy, and you quickly notice Luke’s not paying attention when you hear a low groan through the phone.

“You’re not even listening to me, babe,” you giggle, “my boy feeling needy?”

“I’m a man,” he whines, your laughter trickling through from your end and tickling every one of his senses as he spits into his hand and gets down to business just wishing you were here to help him. He even tries to tease his balls like how you would, but thinking too hard about it makes him aggravated.

“You’re crazy, Lu…” you whisper, “can feel how desperate you are from all the way over here.”

“Crazy for you. Whatcha wearing, hot stuff?” 

He smiles when you tell him you’re in those leggings he likes and Luke closes his eyes tightly as he fists his cock. Through the stars that dance in his vision he thinks he can smell you–all sweat and sweetness just how he likes. His head lolls onto his shoulder in desperation as his hand moves up and down adding pressure as he imagines your hole fluttering around him and taking him so well, covering him in your slick instead of his own pathetic spit. Luke’s tongue sticks out the side of his mouth as he concentrates. 

Gods you’re pretty when you ride him—the curve of your waist when you bounce in his lap and the crescent-shaped marks he leaves when he grabs onto your hips, forcing you down harder so that all you can both hear is the slapping of skin. Luke moans, a broken, almost shameful sound until he remembers he’s alone in the apartment tonight. 

You’re still tapping away at your keyboard unfazed by your boyfriend’s arousal.

“Poor baby, you close? What’s on your mind?”

“Mmmph…How your back arches when you ride me…Like the way you let me pull your hair,” he grits, his hand moving faster as precum drips over the precipice of his cock, swollen and angry and he’s almost there. The veins in his forearm look like they’re about to burst and he’s dizzy with want, his heart beating faster with his movements.

“Yeah? You know I like it when you need me. Wish I could be there and do that thing you like.” 

He can hear the grin in your voice as he shakes his head, breathing harder and groaning. He can see it so clearly in his head—feel the swivel of your hips as your pussy clenches down on every ridge of his cock, and all he can do right now is rub his thumb over the sensitive area as he gasps for air. 

“Got you baby, just let go for me…”

Luke hisses, spurts of hot, milky cum hitting the chiseled muscles of his abdomen, before he takes a deep breath. He hears you shut your laptop and the sound of you shuffling in your room.

“Didn’t even make it to Facetime this time around. Sorry baby, missed you bad,” he chuckles, taking another sip of now warm beer.

“It’s been four days, Luke,” you tease, “but I was hoping you’d return the favor.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme see your pretty face.”

He presses the button to Facetime, but you don’t answer, and the sound of a car starting catches his attention.

“Babe?”

“Unlike you, I’d rather have the real thing. See you in an hour,” you laugh, pulling out of your driveway.

“It’s Thursday!”

“And it’s my turn to drive up anyway, so you better fuck me so hard I’ll have a reason to call in sick. I’m driving as fast as I can, Lu!”

And what type of rational adult would he be to deny that?

[tenko-thinks]

Upper moons and an s/o with large breasts

Cw: a reader with some huge honkers. I'm talking a real pair of badonkers. Some HUGE habagah-- anyways, suggestive , mentions of lactation?¿ I'm projecting my back hurts

Ft. Douma Akaza and Gyutaro

Requests are open i encourage them, im not that creative

♡ ------ ♡

Douma

Douma is one person I see that values breasts on a feminine partner. They imply fertility, after all.

And that implies youth. Beauty. Which is quite attractive not only to the part of you that he desires to devour. But also to the part of him that is a.. Man.

His hands are almost always trailing down to your breasts. Resting on the softness there.

He only becomes handsier over time, bolder and pretty uncaring of boundaries. Or public opinion. He has a right to squeeze, he feels.

When he's bored he enjoys them in an almost cat like fashion. Lifting them and releasing them to watch the jiggle of soft flesh.

Absolutely the worst to sleep with though you'll be in bed and a hand with find your tit under your clothing and it's like Antarctica. He thinks your reactions are to die for. So he's going to keep doing it of course.

There's a part of him that wants to delve deeper on the idea of your fertility. Watch your breasts swell. He wonders if your milk would be like drinking your blood? Just as devine?

Also you're twinsies with fat tits congrats

Akaza

Akaza does not strike me as someone who cares about the body of his partner so long as they're healthy.

However he cannot deny his base attraction to. The simpler things in life. If you're well endowed. Well, it only means more of you to love.

And love you he does. He's not great at showing gentle affection but words of affirmation are natural to him.

If you're insecure of your chest? He's there to soothe you.

If you're proud of them and love showing them off? Free hype man.

#1 malewife no matter the form his s/o takes i will die on this hill.

Pull a "my tits feel heavy" and ask him to hold them. It'll be funny i promise.

Gets very flustered around you in the nude however. Pointedly NOT looking at your chest. Save him.

Gyutaro

Living in yoshiwara, Gyutaro has seen numerous women. Most of which bearing a few extra pounds on their chest.

He hardly even knew smaller boobs existed . Sure he knew they Did but big was average to him. So I can definitely see him being more of a tits guy just by nature of his environment.

He's an asshole though , bless his heart. Very much the type to just like. Lightly swat at your boob when you annoy him or catch him off guard.

Laughs if your chest is sensitive, and he will abuse that knowledge. Going out of his way to find situations to tease about it.

He however also knows the downsides of having them as well. Considering he's a brother to a sister in a similar predicament as you. Back pain or whatever.

So to make up for his unrelenting teasing, Gyutaro will often just hold you. Or help you crack your back. On a good day he might give you a shoulder rub if you ask nicely. He will call you a loser or pathetic ♡

He often has Daki bringing you warm compresses or bags of rice to rest on your lower back. When she doesn't cry about it, she's actually surprisingly understanding about the whole situation. Not that she'd say that through her pride.

[rodolfoparras]

we talk a lot about the characters being "loser boyfailures" and having no game and being rizless but think about the reader being that. guy in his thirties, no relationship ever, negative riz, absolutely no game, my man cannot speak to people without making 13 grammatical mistakes just an absolute pathetic wet dog vibes....

and the 141 boys could not want him more. they're absolutely head over heels for their loser boyfriend. i imagine Simon sees him bump into a chair and apologise to it and he's jumping his bones right then and there. pretty boy Kyle Gaz Garrick never goes anywhere without bringing his wet dog of a man with him. people are wondering how that happened and if he's blackmailing him, he gets very offended and sassy on his boyfriends behalf and when you're back home he rants to him about stupid people while milking his loser dick. Soap is just.... he's just himself the bigger the loser the more he wants the man. his boyfriend fucks up an interraction or fails at something and looks so wet and pathetic that he just has to put his dick in his mouth idk what to say Soap loves his loser boyfriends cock and when he tries and riz him up and falls flat on his face (literally and metaphorically) Soap just has to have him cream his hole im sorry but the man isn't letting his boyfriend go anywhere without having his mans loads in him. Price just loves him for the sincerity and how endearing his loser boyfriend is (just like an old man). the boyfriend will bring him coffee with a treat he tried making for Price and fuck up both the coffee and the treat but that old man will still praise you and give you kisses while his hand wanders bellow your waistband. with him Price gets to get rid of the anxiety of being too old to be useful because someone needs to make his boyfriend into a proper man. and when his boy does things right and suceeds Price rewards him by riding his phat loser cock for the whole night, milking load after load untill nothing comes out anymore

thanks for listening to the ramble i just want some love to the losers of society, there's too many perfect people in fics

Sugar!!!!!!! This is one of my favorite things I’ve ever read why do y’all leave these masterpieces in my inbox on anon you should post this sugar 🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

Especially the gaz and price part???

Imagine all eyes on Gaz in whatever room he walks in they barley notice you behind him but he’s always got a hand around your waist, gently nudging you forward and introducing you as his boyfriend to whoever’s there

He lets you take the stage just endearingly staring at you while you try to make conversation with whoever was eager to meet the two of you

And after you’re done you got a goofy smile on your face feeling happy that you managed to get through that conversation without fucking it up

And Gaz? He’s swiftly pulling you into a room crashing his lips against yours and it doesn’t take much before he’s riding your cock marking you up and feeling all possessive because yes this wonderful sweetheart is his boyfriend and he needs the world to know that

Or you, Price’s boyfriend feeling a bit insecure because Price has so much experience and you have none but he loves it, loves how you look at his old man body with such amazement love how eager you are to learn how to get him off, tears trickling down your cheek as you suck his cock, using your hands wherever your mouth can’t reach

Or you being careful as ever when you first fuck, asking him if he’s okay, if you’re hurting him all while he’s looking at you with the biggest smile on his face because bloody hell how did he get so lucky to have someone as sweet as you and he’s even more endeared when you’re swiftly apologizing because you came too quickly

[konigsblog]

Haiii❤

Love your writing btw

How woud loser!König react to seeing you wiht a guy friend?? Woud he kill them, be angry, or eaven exsplode😱

Loser!König has always dealt with anger issues, since he was a young boy, enraged at the world for being a social outcast and labelled as a ‘monster’, or a ‘freak”. He can't handle his jealousy and envy, not at all.

He doesn't care if it's your brother or a family member – he doesn't like the thought of you being close with another man. König is insanely creepy and protective he is of you, attempting to shelter you from the world and selfishly keep you all for himself. He doesn't let you live your life how you want to, that includes going out with friends, or going to family reunions. He expects you to ask him before doing something, for permission, as if he has authority and control over you. He has to make sure you're safe, anything could happen to a pretty girl like you, you know that, right?

König has so much resentment and rage towards your childhood best friend. He's incredibly frustrated that you're so close, since birth almost. It doesn't matter that you're ‘just friends’ or whatever bullshit spews from your mouth, you shouldn't be that close to another man, especially when you have a boyfriend supervising the pair of you to make sure that he doesn't get up to anything, become perverted and overly touchy, or attempt to hit on you.

You've noticed that it's always with conventionally attractive men that he has a problem with, never the off-putting, hideous men that remind König of himself. It's clear envy, for their confidence, how they've never had to worry a day in their lives because of their appearance and looks and how that allows them to get whatever they desire. König will talk shit about your closest friends while you sit there, rubbing at the back of your neck uncomfortably as he degrades your friends for doing something he doesn't approve of. Why would you want to surround yourself with these people, Mäusi? He's much more interesting.

König will check your phone while you're asleep or busy taking a shower – without your consent, of course! It's all to make sure that you're not talking to another man. He's looking out for you, that's all. König tries to put the blame on your close friends rather than humiliate and ridicule you for it. You could cause no harm, you're his sweet angel. He'll shame them while burying his face in your breasts, gritting his teeth at the thought of them having you one day. They'll never touch the skin he has, or fill the holes that he's stuffed. He'll make sure of it.

He'll message them messages on your behalf without your knowledge, then delete their contacts from your phone. You know exactly who to blame when your beloved childhood best friend begins to ignore you with a clear frown visible on his pathetic face.