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chiscaralight · 22 days ago

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what's that sound?

includes: nsfw! continuation of my college athelete!choso linked here. vouyerism, oral sex(f receiving), somewhat bottom choso, p in v, unprotected sex, choso is a little pervy, he’s never eaten pussy before either, choso cums from hearing i love u then he gets a little emotional. he’s just a loser!!!!!

word count: roughly 3k

a/n: we r so back!!!!

choso has been at his best since he met you.

ever since you two got together, he's been much different. not just to you—to everyone! there’s a pep in his step when he walks, he’s a little more confident when he talks, and he’s even playing better on the field now! (totally not because he knows you’re in the bleachers and he’s trying to look extra cool just for you.)

and it pains him in more ways than one when he has to stay away from you for so long. with the new league about to hit its peak, coaches are adding in extra hours, school work is getting more and more tasking by the day, and only talking to you on the phone for a couple of minutes and texting the whole day is nowhere near enough for him. even though he’s the one that needs most of the space!

you’re so sweet about it too, assuring him you’d be fine and he has to prioritize his sports career. you still show up to the occasional practice to offer a quick kiss before you go home, and you leave him snacks in his book bag when you see it lying around. you’re honestly such a blessing, why is the world so against the two of you right now?

but a single ray of light shines down on Choso’s dim day when the head coach sends a text that they can have the day off since they played so well in the last game. he’s almost flying out of his class seat right then and there—his mind is going straight towards you.

he feels like shit as he makes his way out of the flower shop; bouquet in hand. it’s not much, but he hopes you find it sweet enough that you’ll forgive him for how long it’s been since he last saw you. he stood there, individually picking out the best blue hyacinths and white orchids from the bunch, all fresh and neatly wrapped as a sort of poetic apology. you might not even know what it means, but who cares? it’s the thought that counts.

and he feels even weirder driving to your doorstep after all the times he’s run there instead. he’s still nervous even after all the times you’ve held him, kissed him, fucked him. you’re just so perfect, who wouldn’t be near pissing themselves right now with you behind the door?

he’s carefully sliding the single key you gave him in, pushing inwards after he hears the soft click. fingers tightening around the paper holding the flowers together, he steps in. empty.

what the hell? you should be home right now. it’s Friday—your classes end early and your favorite podcast should be up by now. but you’re not here.

choso’s brows furrow. He peered into the kitchen and checked the downstairs bathroom, the backyard, and even under the stairwell. nothing.

agitation crawls up his neck as hears a muffled noise from upstairs. it's faint; almost impossible to hear, but he’s sure it’s you.

the staircase is barely creaking as he makes his way up insanely slow. his grip on the flowers are tight, almost inhumane as he’s prepared to use them as a weapon. his steps are quick once he reaches the top, deathly silent but still quick as he closes in on the cracked open door of your room. the noises are getting slightly louder, more frantic and they sound less like pain and more like moans. moans..?

choso’s heart cracks once and he stops dead in his tracks. there’s no way. he knows he’s been gone for a long time, but it hasn't been that long, right? fuck—you said you loved him, you said it so many times, you wouldn’t cheat on him so quick. you wouldn’t cheat on him at all. so why are you–

“f-fuck cho.. miss you s-so much..”

oh.

the blood flow in Choso’s legs finally picks up once again, and he’s noiselessly pushing himself against the wall right next to your doorpost. he’s craning his head so far to the side, but he can finally see it. he can finally see you. and holy shit, he might have just cum in his pants.

your legs are spread, bed facing the door as your fingers disappear into your cunt. your shirt–his shirt is pulled up right under your chin, leaving your cute tits out in the open as you harshly tug on one of your own nipples.

the view is stupidly mesmerizing, and choso catches himself just before he starts drooling at the sight of you. he’s not even paying attention to how hard he is, he’s completely entranced by every little action. the way your body is twitching, how your fingers are moving, how your eyes are pressed tightly shut as you cry out his name.

choso is genuinely about to lose it. he just wants to crawl over there and eat you whole, in more ways than one. but he’s practically glued to the spot; he’s even holding his breath just to not ruin the moment!

but he’s getting knocked out of his incomprehensible trance when you let out a particularly irritated groan.

it’s so annoying. you haven’t been able to cum once since your boyfriend has been scarce. it’s not like you tried anyway, you’d much rather have him pump your orgasms out of you like he seemed to love doing. but it’s been so long, and you’ve been so sexually frustrated that you had to turn back to playing with yourself like this.

it’s not that you couldn’t call him, you’re almost a hundred percent sure he’d run all the way to you if he was on the other side of the country. but you didn’t want to bother him too much. his schedule has been overflowing with activities and he’s probably so busy, you didn’t want to seem inconsiderate! so you’d settled on seeing him when you knew he was free.

but this is getting way too bad, and you’re sure you’d start losing sight in your left ear if you don’t get it out right now.

so against your better judgment, you’re using your free hand to reach over to your phone, banking on the fact that his voice will be enough to get you off. he doesn’t have to know, right? And plus, you can always tell him later when you feel less guilty.

it doesn’t take long for you to find his name surrounded by hearts in your contact list and you’re calling without a second thought. it takes a couple of seconds before the line actually starts to ring.

the loud noise from Choso’s back pocket startles him so much that he drops the flowers he’s forgotten he’s holding. he’s silently cursing himself amidst the noise of his phone singing out, and now he’s lost on what to do.

you speak first though, voice breathy and low as you call out his name. he bites down on his lower lip, slowly stepping into the entrance of your room. you bite back a laugh despite the obscenity of the whole thing. he looks like a kid who got caught with their chubby hand down the cookie jar, he’s just way too cute!

“were you watching me, cho?”

almost immediately he’s a stuttering mess of excuses and apologies. he swears he didn’t mean to, he just wanted to surprise you—he just got a little carried away!

and you can’t hide your smile as you shut him up, gesturing for him to come closer. you’re sitting up now, more covered than before as your shirt rolls down.

you pat the space beside you, signaling for him to come over. it feels like ages, almost eons when your bed finally dips from his weight, but he’s still so far away. it’s definitely an improvement from the first time he came over, but you need him much closer than he is.

you can see his body tense up as you shift closer. he’s still avoiding your eyes, finding the floor much more interesting than the face of yours he always says he can’t get enough of. your fingers are giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze as he apologizes once again. you’re not upset. nowhere near even—this might have been the best possible outcome. but if he’s all mopey like this, neither of you will get anywhere.

“y’know, i don’t mind you watching me.”

you can feel him physically cringe at your words, but you’re not done just yet.

“so, you can keep watching me, or…”

his eyes finally meet yours after what feels like an eternity, waiting for you to go on. there you go.

“or?”

“…you can help me.”

quite literally, you can see the gears turning in that silly little brain of his. but he’s choosing to forgo an actual response, pressing his lips against yours instead. you can’t help the moan you let flow out of you, and he’s grunting in response, arms closing around you hard so he can push you onto your back once more.

choso’s kisses are heavy and full of need, tongue dancing around yours as his fingers graze the exposed skin of your thighs. you feel so good under his rough palms, he can’t help but try to soften his touch. he doesn’t want to hurt you! after all, you’re his most prized possession. he has to take care of you in every way he can.

and you’re half expecting his fingers to replace yours as they were a couple of minutes ago, but he’s pulling back with a sharp huff. you’re lazily opening your eyes, gaze connecting with his again as you start to notice the tips of his ears are a burning red.

“can i... i want to taste you. please.

even with his eyes still trained on yours, his entire face is flushed. even after all these months, he’s still as nervous as ever.

you offer him a welcoming smile and nod. he’s clearing his throat as he moves away, making quick work of getting his shirt off before settling between your legs.

and he’s a little overwhelmed coming face to face with your pussy like this. he knows you’re watching him, and he’s watching your essence drip out and down your cunt as he thinks. he’s racking his brain, trying to think of the best way to approach this. but your hand guiding the back of his head closer towards your aching heat is all the encouragement he needs.

once his tongue comes in contact with your slick, his eyes fall shut. you gasp at the experimental licks he’s giving you, warmth of his tongue sending jolts all the way down into your toes as he groans at how sweet you taste.

he’s catching on with lightning speed, lightly dipping his tongue into your entrance between every couple of strokes from his tongue. his nose is bumping your clit just right, and you’re tugging at his hair quite harshly as he continues to suck at your hole.

it’s his tongue going deep into your cunt that has you arching off the bed, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs close around his ears. his strong hands are only wrapped around your thighs, locking you tight in place as he ravages his new favorite meal.

and the tip of his tongue is starting to invade your sensitive spots as he fucks it in and out of you, wiggling it around when he’s sure it’s as deep as he can go so you’re arching high off the bed. you’re desperately trying to push him away—you’re not sure you can handle all this! but choso is too far gone; he’ll apologize later. right now, he’s going to get a fill of this flavor he’s been missing out on for weeks.

but even with your pleas and cries, choso doesn’t stop. you’d think he’d gone deaf from how hard your thighs were pressing on his ears. truth is he can hear you loud and clear. he just wants to make sure he gets every single drop of your release down his throat.

he’s only had a sneaky taste of it after he helps you finish on his fingers. when you’re finally off the high and sleeping wrapped in his arms like a baby, he’ll bring his digit to his lips, childishly licking at them to get whatever remnants are on his fingers onto his tongue. but it won’t be long before pangs of guilt and shame cover him, and his hand will settle right by your side.

but now? there’s no way he’s about to give this up. he can feel it. the way you’re tightening around his tongue, how your moans are starting to crack just like they always do.

and he’s right because your thick release is hitting his throat in no time, flooding his mouth as he slurps up every last drop.

when he finally lets you free from his vice grip, you’re both panting and sweaty. his chin is entertained covered in your release. you can barely keep your eyes open, but you can hear how choso is fighting to get rid of his pants next.

it’s not long before Choso’s lips collide with yours in a much softer kiss. he’s been slightly… satiated. but his boner is getting more painful by the second, and he misses the way you envelop him so dearly.

he doesn’t break the kiss as he hooks his elbows under your knees. he’s pushing up, not stopping u til your calves are rested perfectly against his shoulders. he didn’t know you could bend like that. you didn’t know you couldn’t bend like that. but both of your trains of thought are broken when he finally pushes into you. a short string of curses falls from his lips when you clamp down around him just like you always do.

and regardless of how impatient he’s been all this time, choso never fails to fuck you properly. his thrusts are calculated and deep, each one making your entire body twitch under him.

you never fail to give him the praise he deserves either, telling him he’s doing so well they turn his harsh grunts into weak whines.

but he loses all composure when you call him ‘my good boy’. you can swear you hear him sob, but the noise gets drowned out fast by the sound of skin slapping as he picks up the speed of his hips

your eyes are crossing, fingers dipping into his shoulders when his pelvis starts to brush your overstimulated clit. he’s hitting everything so right, deep whispers of your name breezing through your head as he pounds into you.

you’re practically an inch away from getting fucked into a concussion but it’s the least of your worries right now. you’ve missed this—you’ve missed him. it’s the moments where he’s so raw with you, no masks of shame or fear covering how he truly feels that you love the most. this is the cost that you love.

but you’re still a human being, and one with limits. your orgasm is bubbling hard in the pits of your belly, so you’re tightening your own hold on him, mumbling about how you’re getting close. and you barely last another five seconds before a stupidly broken ‘i love you’ falls from your swollen lips.

those three words are sending choso over the edge so fast he can’t help the strangled noise that comes from his throat. those words are pumping energy throughout every vein of his body, and even through his orgasm, he doesn’t stop his movements. his face is digging into your neck as he rides out the rest of his high, tears dripping onto the skin of your collarbone.

you’re so confused when you recover, that you don’t know what to say! all you can do is shush him, dragging your fingers calmly through his messy strands as you try to calm him down. even through his fit, he’s still apologizing and it breaks your heart over and over. all you can do is press a sweet kiss against the side of his face and tell him how cute he looks with his face all wet like this. then he remembers.

he’s returning to your sides within seconds, setting the bouquet carefully in your arms before explaining what it’s supposed to be. they’ve already been out for quite some time though, so you’ll need to take them downstairs to place in a jar before they start to wilt too badly. but you’re in no state to walk like this.

so choso is scooping you up bridal style despite your protests and carrying you down the steps. he only puts you down to place you in front of the kitchen sink as he moves around to find a suitable container. it’s adorable you think, how proactive he is about this. but he’s done pretty quickly, and all you have to do is lean over the basin and push the jar onto the sill.

which you do with a gasp because he’s pressing onto your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. but that’s not what catches you off guard, it’s how hard he is. and with the way his hand is trailing down between your thighs, you know you don’t have long before you’ll be getting filled up again.

if you think you’ve missed him, you have no idea how much he’s missed you. and even with that, he’s so considerate! he knows how tired your legs must be, so he’s keeping you up with his vice-like grip as he fucks into you from behind right in front of the kitchen window. your brain's been turned to mush a long time ago, you don’t even care if your neighbors see you like this. all that’s on your mind is how bruised you’re going to be when choso finally lets up, and how much cum he can pump into you until he has to go for his next practice.

#choso smut #college athlete!choso #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #choso x reader smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #choso #choso x you #choso x y/n

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chosok-amo · 2 months ago

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warning. fem! reader, daddy kink! toji, fingering, degrading, you give him viagra.

toji fushiguro has never felt this way before in his life. he’s always been a sexually charged man— always had a high libido, but this? this is becoming ridiculous. he’s not sure what the cause of it is, but he’s sitting at his desk at work. his fingers mindlessly type away at the keyboard, hand fiddling with the mouse, but his thoughts are only on one thing.

why on earth is he feeling so hot? fuck, and why is his cock so hard? why are beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead? he glances at the clock feverishly, muttering a curse to himself as he realises he’s only two hours into an eight hour shift. fuck, what does he do? what does he do?

the first thing he can think of is you, grabbing his phone with slightly shaky hands as he opens up your contact and presses on the call button. he glances around, making sure nobody in the office is close enough to hear, and listens to it ring. the moment you pick up, you hardly get a greeting out before he’s hissing into the receiver.

“alright, ya’ fuckin’ brat, what’d ya do?”

your response on the other end is a stifled giggle and a denial of responsibility on your part. he curls his upper lip, knowing immediately that that laugh means you do have something to do with this.

“don’t fuck around with me, girl, i know it’s your doin’. now tell me, what did you do, why is my cock so damn hard right now?”

you let out another small giggle, shaking your head even though he can't see you through the phone. you lean back against your pillows, stretching out comfortably as you reply in a light, teasing tone. “aw, poor baby. having some... trouble down there?” you ask innocently, drawing out the last word for emphasis. you can practically picture the scowl on his face, which only makes you grin wider.

“maybe if you're a good boy and beg nicely, i'll tell youuu..” you trail off suggestively, enjoying the power you seem to have over him in this moment. a thrill runs through you at the thought of reducing such a strong, confident man to pleading for relie— and all from the comfort of your own bed, no less.

he grunts, rolling his eyes at your innocent act. how you think you can fool him, he doesn't know. maybe because you're so fucking young? whatever the reason, it's working. he feels his cock throbbing in agreement with your suggestion, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“beg, huh? alright then, princess,” his voice drops to a low purr, “on your knees for me, sugar. show me just how much you want to help your big bad toji.” he chuckles, shifting in his seat as he waits for your response. he knows you won't disappoint— not when there's fun to be had.

you smirk to yourself, quite pleased with how easily you've gotten under his skin. you sit up straighter, crossing your legs primly as you respond in a sweet, sing-song voice.

“ohhhh toji, you know i'd love to! but...” you draw out the word dramatically, “...i don't think i will. after all, i'm comfy right where i ammm.”

you giggle again, delighting in the frustrated noise he makes on the other end of the line. you can almost feel the heat of his glare through the phone, and it sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“besides, didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to make demands? if you wanna play, you gotta learn some manners first,” you punctuate your words with a wink, even though he can't see it.

his eyes narrow, the annoyance clear in his gaze as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “well isn't that just fucking rich? demanding manners from someone who clearly hasn't learned them yet themselves.”

he lets out a huff, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. but despite himself, he can't help but smile at your antics. “fine then, brat. how ’bout this? how ‘bout i give you a little taste of what you're denying me?”

there's a pause as he takes a moment to adjust himself, the sound of rustling fabric filling the silence between you both. he clears his throat, his voice dropping lower still. “how ‘bout i take matters into my own hands instead?”

you bite your lip, trying to suppress the excited flutter in your stomach at his words. you can practically imagine the sight of those large, capable hands wrapping around his thick length, and it sends a wave of warmth pooling between your thighs.

“that sounds... tempting,” you admit, your voice dropping to match his sultry tone. “but i'm still comfortable here. and besides, i'm not sure how well you handle rejection...”

you let the implication hang in the air, knowing full well how much it would irk him. you can already picture the look of stubborn determination on his face— the same look he gets whenever he sets his mind to something.

he snorts, a hint of amusement lacing his voice despite the growing irritation. “rejection? from you? well, ain't that just a fucking shame. please, kid, you don't know the first thing about turning me down.”

his fingers drum impatiently against his thigh, the tension in his body palpable. “look, i'm giving you a choice here. either you get off that damn bed and come play with me, or i'll just have to find my own release. and trust me, it won't be pretty.”

there's a dangerous edge to his words, a promise of things to come if you continue to deny him. he's not used to being teased like this, and it's starting to grate on his nerves. but goddamn if it's not also turning him on more than he cares to admit.

you shiver at the threat in his voice, a thrill of excitement mixed with a touch of fear. you know exactly what kind of'release' he's referring to—and the thought of it has your core clenching with need.

“ohhh, I'm shaking in my boots,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady despite the ache building inside you. “but you know what they say, baby... pride comes before a fall.”

you pause, letting the weight of your words sink in. “and honestly? i'm not sure i'd want to be around for the aftermath of your tantrum. seems like it might get messy...” you trail off, leaving the invitation open-ended. you're playing with fire, you know— but the thought of seeing him lose control, of witnessing the raw desire etched across his features, is too enticing to resist.

his patience snaps like a twig underfoot. “fuck it,” he growls, standing abruptly and pacing the room in agitation. “i‘ve had enough of your games, brat.”

he stops in front of the window, gazing out at the cityscape below as he tries to regain his composure. “listen up, kiddo. i’m coming over. and when i do, we’re gonna forget all about these silly little teases and get down to business.”

there's a finality to his tone, an unspoken command that brooks no argument. he's made up his mind, and now it's time for you to comply. “be ready,” he adds, his voice low and warning. “or else.”

your heart pounds in your chest at his declaration, a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling within you. you quickly scramble off the bed, your feet hitting the floor with a soft thud as you rush to prepare yourself.

“or else what?” you challenge lightly, attempting to mask the tremble in your voice. “you gonna spank me like a naughty child? or maybe you'll just have to punish me some other way...” you let your words hang in the air, suggesting all manner of punishments that send a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. you know you're pushing him, testing his limits—but part of you craves the chaos that follows such reckless behavior.

he laughs, but there's no humor in it. “don't tempt me, girl,” he warns, each syllable dripping with barely restrained lust. “because believe me, when i get my hands on you, you won't be sitting down for a week.”

he hangs up without another word, leaving you staring at the phone in disbelief. seconds later, there's a sharp knock at the door, followed by the jangle of keys. he must have kept a spare set, you realize, your heart leaping into your throat as the door swings open and he fills the frame.

he looks pissed. and turned on. and maybe a little bit crazy. “hello, sweetheart,” he drawls, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him with a resounding click. “ready to pay for all that attitude?’

he stalks towards you, a predatory glint in his eye.

your breath catches in your throat as he approaches, the air charged with tension and expectation. you stand frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from the fierce intensity in his eyes.

“i... i don't know,” you reply coyly, tilting your head to the side as you feign innocence. “attitude's kinda my thing. what makes you think i'd want to change?” you take a step back, retreating until your back presses against the wall. the cool surface provides a stark contrast to the heat radiating off your flushed skin.

he closes the distance between you in two long strides, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head as he looms over you. his free hand finds your hip, gripping it possessively as he leans in close.

“oh, i‘ll make you want to change,” he promises darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “i‘ll make you beg for it, princess. i‘ll make you scream so loud the whole damn neighborhood will hear you.”

he punctuates his words with a rough grind of his hips against yours, the hard bulge of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. “sooo, what's it gonna be, sugar? you gonna be a good girl for daddy? or do i need to teach you a lesson?” his hand slides higher, skimming along your ribcage until his thumb brushes the underside of your breast.

a gasp escapes your lips at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly beneath the thin fabric of your top. you squirm against him, feeling the throbbing pulse of his arousal against your belly.

“i... i...“ you stutter, caught between defiance and desire. “daddy? who said anything about daddies.” your protest falls flat, though, lost amidst the haze of arousal clouding your senses. you arch into his touch, seeking more friction against your sensitive flesh.

“teach me then,” you whisper, a daring gleam in your eyes. “show me how a real man handles a naughty girl.”

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through you. “with pleasure,” he purrs, his grip tightening on your hip as he pulls you closer. his other hand moves lower, slipping beneath your skirt to find your panties damp with anticipation. “seems like someone's eager for their lesson,” he taunts, circling his fingertips around your swollen clit.

he pinches the sensitive nub firmly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. but when none comes, he smirks. “good girl,” he murmurs approvingly, his fingers continuing their torturous dance.

“now why don't you show daddy how much you want this?” he coos, leaning in to capture your bottom lip between his teeth. “bend over and spread those legs nice and wide.” a whimper escapes you as his fingers work their magic, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. you're already so wet, so desperate for more of his touch.

“please,” you breathe, the word falling from your lips unbidden. “i need... i need...” you trail off, unable to articulate the overwhelming hunger consuming you. instead, you obey his command, turning and bracing your hands against the wall. you look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes hazy with lust.

“like this, daddy?” you ask feigned innocent, slowly bending at the waist and arching your back. you reach back with one hand to lift your skirt, revealing the soaked patch of fabric clinging to your ass. “is this what you wanted?” you purr, spreading your thighs wider in blatant invitation.

a guttural groan spills from his throat at the sight before him. “fuck yes,” he growls, stalking forward to press himself against your exposed rear.

his large hands cup your ass cheeks, kneading the supple flesh roughly as he grinds his rock-hard erection against your panty-covered cleft. “such a pretty little slut for me,“ he praises, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

without warning, he yanks your panties aside and plunges two thick fingers into your dripping channel. “god, you're so fucking tight,” he grits out, pumping his digits in and out of you at a brutal pace.

he curls them slightly, stroking that spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “come on, baby,” he urges, his voice low and commanding. “ride my fingers like a good girl.”

a high-pitched moan tears from your throat as he penetrates you, your inner muscles spasming around his invading digits. the combination of pain and pleasure sends you spiraling into a frenzy of desire. “yes, yes, please!” you chant, pushing back against his hand shamelessly.

your pussy clenches greedily around his fingers, soaking them in your juices as he fucks you relentlessly. the sounds of your own arousal fill the room—moans, whimpers, the obscene squelch of his fingers moving in and out of your cunt.

“‘m going to cum,” you warn, your voice strained and breathless. “if you keep doing that, i'm going to cum all over your hand.”

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your confession, his thrusts becoming even more insistent. “then let go, sugar,” he encourages, adding a third finger to stretch and fill you further.

he quickens the pace, driving into you with a relentless rhythm designed to push you over the edge. “let me see how much you love being fucked by daddy,” he taunts, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own growing arousal.

the sensation of his teeth on your skin only heightens the pleasure coursing through you, making your orgasm that much more imminent. “that's it, just like that, gooddd, ” he coaches, feeling your walls clench and flutter around his fingers.

a keening cry splits the air as your climax crashes over you, waves of intense pleasure ripping through your body. your pussy convulses around his fingers, milking them for every drop of satisfaction they can provide.

“toji!” you scream his name, the single syllable carrying the weight of your surrender. your entire world narrows down to the feeling of his hand inside you, coaxing every last tremor of bliss from your quivering frame.

gradually, the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and panting against the wall. “fuck,” you curse weakly, trying to catch your breath. “what did you do to me?”

a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he watches you come undone under his touch. “just warming you up for the main event,” he teases, pulling his slickened fingers free from your spent pussy with a lewd pop.

he brings his glistening digits to his lips, licking them clean with a lascivious grin. “but we're not done yet, brat,” he says, his voice laced with promise. “it's time for daddy to get some attention.”

he steps back momentarily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. his shirt follows suit, revealing the chiseled expanse of his chest and abdomen. he unbuckles his belt with deliberate slowness, letting you take in the full extent of his arousal. “spread those legs wider,” he commands, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants.

a shiver runs through you at the sight of his bare form, his muscles rippling as he moves. there's something undeniably primal about seeing him like this, stripped bare and ready for you. a shaky laugh bubbles from your lips, still tingling from the aftermath of your orgasm. you glance back at him over your shoulder, taking in the sight of his naked lower half.

“like this?” you ask, parting your thighs even further, exposing yourself fully to his hungry gaze. “is this enough for you, daddy?”

you watch as he discards the rest of his clothes, his muscular physique on full display. the throbbing bulge in his groin draws your attention like a magnet, its size promising pleasures untold.

“are you going to fuck me now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving him a coy smile. “because i really hope so,” you added, your voice dripping with feigned nonchalance. “after all, ‘m just a naughty girl looking to satisfy her daddy.”

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, his eyes darkening with raw lust. “naughty girl indeed,” he agrees, prowling forward until he's standing directly behind you.

his hands roam over your hips, gripping your flesh possessively as he positions himself at your entrance. “but daddy has other plans for you,” he whispers, pressing the head of his cock against your drenched folds.

he gives a slow, measured thrust, sinking into you inch by delicious inch. “feel that, sugar?” he asks, pausing to allow you to adjust to his size. "that's just the tip."

a gasp tears from your throat as he finally fills you completely, stretching you in ways you never knew possible. the sensation of being so utterly claimed by him leaves you breathless, your mind spinning with pleasure.

“oh god,” you moan, clutching at the wall for support. “you're so big... always so big,” you trail off, lost in the exquisite agony of having him buried inside you. he doesn't move for several long moments, allowing you to acclimate to his presence. the tension coiling within you is almost unbearable, each beat of your heart echoing the throbbing pulse of his cock pulsating inside your clenching walls.

“move,” you beg, finally finding your voice, “please, fuck me already.”

a smirk tugs at his lips at your plea, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. with a fluid motion, he begins to withdraw, only to slam back into you with bruising force.

each thrust hits deeper than the last, driving you further onto the edge of sanity. “like that?” he asks, punctuating his words with another punishing thrust. “does daddy feel good inside you?”

he sets a ruthless pace, fucking you with a precision that borders on cruel. every stroke sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body, lighting up your nerves like fireworks on the fourth of july.

“you're so tight around me,“ he growls, leaning over your back to whisper in your ear. “so wet, soooo perfect.”

a strangled whimper escapes your lips as he hammers into you, the sheer intensity of his movements threatening to reduce you to a quivering mess. the sound of your bodies colliding echoes throughout the room, a symphony of carnal desires.

“mhm, oh god yes,” you moan, bracing yourself against the wall as he continues to ravage you. “so bigggg, daddy.” you reach back to grab hold of his ass, urging him to pound into you harder, faster. the sensation of his thick length splitting you open is overwhelming, sending jolts of ecstasy shooting through your veins with every brutal thrust.

“i can't...” you pant, struggling to find the words amidst the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. “i can't hold on much longer...“

a surge of possessive pride courses through him at your admission, fueling his desire to claim you entirely. “hold on, sugar,” he grates out, his voice rough with lust. “daddy's not done with you yet.”

he pulls back slightly, only to ram into you with renewed vigor. the angle of his thrusts hits that sweet spot inside you, triggering an avalanche of pleasure that threatens to engulf you whole.

“come for me again,” he demands, biting down on your shoulder to mark you as his once more. “show daddy how much you want it.” he quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward with abandon. the slap of flesh against flesh grows louder, the sound mixing with your cries to create a lewd chorus of carnality.

a keening wail tears from your throat as he strikes that perfect chord within you, sending you spiraling toward obliviation once more. the coil of pleasure inside you tightens, ready to snap at any moment.

“toji!” you scream his name, your voice cracking with need. “i'm gonna—”

your sentence cuts off abruptly as your orgasm washes over you, tearing through you with the force of a tidal wave. your inner walls clamp down hard on his cock, milking him for everything he's worth.

“fuck! fuck!“ you sob, riding out the waves of your climax, “’m cumming, ’m cumming!”

a guttural groan rips from his throat as your velvety walls spasm around him, the rhythmic squeezing pushing him closer to the brink. “that's it, baby,” he praises, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “milk daddy's cock.”

he continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until it borders on pain. “such a good little slut,” he growls, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. he yanks your head back, forcing you to arch your spine as he pounds into you mercilessly.

with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. a hoarse shout tears from his lips as he finds his own completion, his seed spurting forth to paint your insides white.

the sensation of him filling you up, marking you as his, is indescribable. your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your legs growing weak beneath you.

“oh goddd,” you pant, collapsing against the wall for support. “you're so deep... so full, daddy.”

the warmth of his cum flooding your womb sends another ripple of pleasure coursing through you, extending your high well past its natural end. you can't help but push back against him, desperate for every last drop of his essence.

you lean back against him, feeling his strong arms wrap around your waist. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, coupled with the lingering throbs of pleasure coursing through your veins, is simply heavenly.

a satisfied sigh escapes him as he slowly eases out of you, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. he turns you gently in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest.

“feeling better now, brat?“ he teases, his voice still laced with the remnants of his satisfaction. “or do you need some more of daddy's special attention?” he nuzzles into your neck, planting a series of gentle kisses along your sensitive skin. despite the harshness of their lovemaking, there's a tenderness in his touch that speaks volumes about his affection for you.

“you're amazing when you come undone like that,” he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves with reverence. “always so responsive.”

a contented hum vibrates in your throat as he holds you close, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. the tender kisses he plants on your neck send pleasant shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the intense passion of mere moments ago.

“i think i might need a little more,” you admit, tilting your head to grant him better access. “just to make sure all that pent-up energy is drained away properly.”

you thread your fingers through his hair, guiding his lips to the crook of your neck where you know he loves to suck and bite. “and maybe some cuddles afterwards,” you add, a playful glint in your eye. you press yourself even closer to him, savoring the solid warmth of his body against yours. your fingers finding his nipple, pinch the hardened bud in between.

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest at your request, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “cuddles, huh? you're really milking this ‘needy’ thing for all it's worth, aren't you?”

he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasp as his tongue delves into your mouth. the nip of his teeth on your bottom lip has you whimpering into the embrace, your fingers tangling deeper in his hair.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, pausing to suck a dark bruise into your skin before moving lower. “as for that pent-up energy,” he murmurs, his hot breath washing over your collarbone, “daddy's got just the thing.”

he drops to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes them apart. “spread those pretty legs again for me, sugar.”

#toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #anime smut #toji

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fallenneziah · 1 year ago

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is it too much if i ask you to do a part two of alpha!ghost and omega!reader 🥹

Ah, don't worry @dragonstoneshortcake I will feed you more.

Alpha!Ghost and Omega!Reader pt2

If you haven't you can go back and read part 1 and 3

Your first heat with Alpha!Ghost was one that would stick with you. Ghost all the same. After that first heat, watching his seed slowly dripping from your fluttering hole. He wanted to do it all over again.

Alpha!Ghost who let's you keep his shirt, telling you, "you might need it sweetheart," with a wink and starts to pack himself up.

Omega!Reader who does in fact need that shirt. Who has unexplainable want to burrow into it. Whimpering at night and holding it tight to suffocate you like a pillow.

Like a rabbit kicking it's back legs from excitement or anxiousness.

Omega!Reader who hasn't experienced anything like Ghost's thick cock deep inside them. Who moan loudly as they think about his knot stuck inside your sweet hole.

Alpha!Ghost who gets in teasing touches during practice. Hand gliding down reader's ass or over their shoulder. Warm breath fanning to their ear, tumbling deeply when he sees the sore bite marks that still remain seared on their skin.

Alpha!Ghost who ruts his cock between his pillow, trying to get friction like that little omega, the chemical reaction of your heat burned into his mind.

Omega!Reader who breaks the cycle and heads to Ghost's office, tenacious and eager. The smell of your delicious pheromones tell him all he needs to know before he's sliding you closer, hands on your hips, guiding you along.

Omega!Reader who takes Ghost's cock in their mouth, sweat tears rolling as Ghost's hips cant up, his voice vibrating in their stomach.

"Oh such a good fuckin' angel... So fuckin' pretty on my cock, so fuckin' pretty..." He groans, stroking your cheek as saliva drips down your chin and you choke down his length.

Alpha!Ghost who plays into and teases reader for being so needy. Spanking their ass as he takes down their pants, bending them over the desk and growling in their ear as his fingers work their hole.

Omega!Reader who whines in reply, bringing this interaction down simply to submit, and submitted. The animal in desperation and the animal willing to give. Basic instincts imbedded in your genes telling you to take him. And take him all.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't care that your pheromones spread. Others will know it's him taking you. His cock sinking into your hole, pushing you against the desk, nails digging in.

"Look at you- oh fuckin' 'ell sweetheart-" He growls.

Alpha!Ghost who doesn't spare you anymore than last time. He knows you're out of heat and just want his cock, and he'll give it to you. Rearranging your insides and keeping you completely pinned under him. Seeing you squirm and arch before giving up makes him feel so good.

Alpha!Ghost who gets you on his knot, slamming deep inside of you, feeling how far he's pushed, that slight swell in your belly from how deep his cock is seated inside you.

"You look so good on my knot..." He admires his work, he admires your body.

Sitting in his chair and caressing your body. Making you whimper and shiver. His lips and tongue tasting every little bit of you. Your sweet scent just leaking off you.

Alpha!Ghost who hadn't talked with you about what you actually were. You'd fucked twice and he didn't really know If you'd want it further.

Did that stop him from protecting you? No.

Alpha!Ghost who is so protective over you more now than ever. If you're sparring with someone else and they remotely touch you wrong Ghost is up in their face with a nasty snarl.

That's his. You back away. Back the fuck away.

Alpha!Ghost who as far as he's concerned, mated or not, you're his. His seed stains your insides, he's been closest to your smell than anyone in base, he's seen you in heat. He's pounded your brains out.

You. Are. His.

Omega!Reader who finds themselves at Ghost's door often after nightmares. When they'd opt to be alone mostly, they can't help wanting his scent. Hearing him hum as he let's you in, smelling him everywhere.

Omega!Reader burrowing into Ghost's side and his blankets, unable to help being completely consumed by the scent. It's not bad, they sniff him, paw at him, shifting through the night.

Alpha!Ghost who finds it... Rather adorable that you want more of him. Shifting a little so you can press your face up to his chest, inhaling deeply and whimpering into his arms.

Omega!Reader who completely melts when his arms wrap around them, feeling very comforted and safe with him.

Omega!Reader whose nightly occurrences in Ghost's room because frequent. Every other night the two share a bed, sometimes leading to his cock down your throat as you slowly or desperately suck him off.

Or other times it ends with his knot deep inside you, whispering about how he'll get you pregnant. He'll knock you up so good with his pups.

Omega!Reader whose fantasies are all Ghost. Him pounding them full of pups and making them leak. Back arched and crying out his name like it's the only word they know.

Omega!Reader knowing they want so much more with Ghost. Knowing they want off their pills, to let his seed get them pregnant. Who wants to be called his mate. Who wants that so so badly.

Omega!Reader who will notice how Ghost gets flirted with by betas around the base and will end up whining. Like a neglected puppy.

"What's wrong love? Someone step on your tail?" Ghost will tease, unaware the other officers flirting has severely ticked you off.

Omega!Reader who tries to pull Ghost to their whim once, getting so far as a utility closet before Ghost shoves them in, pressing his chest to their back, hearing them whimper desperately for something.

"Shh, think you get to do that sweetheart? No, no angel." He whispers, kissing your cheek and rutting against your ass.

I'm sure you'll work it out together somehow 😉

#cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #cod mw2 #alpha simon riley #alpha!Ghost #omega!reader #omega reader

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six-eyed-samurai · 6 months ago

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SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy. A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night! WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.

You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.

Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.

“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”

The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”

The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).

You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.

“How far along are you?”

“About five months, I think!”

“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”

Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”

You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.

“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”

“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.

Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.

“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.

“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”

The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.

That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.

***

You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.

Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.

“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”

“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”

You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.

Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.

“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.

“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”

Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”

“Oh, it’s -”

“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”

“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”

Like always the reply was only a “tch”.

***

Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.

You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.

“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.

“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.

You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”

“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.

Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”

With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.

Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.

***

“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.

Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”

“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.

“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”

“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”

“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”

“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”

“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”

Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…

***

Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.

It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.

Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.

Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.

“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”

“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”

You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”

Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.

“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“N-no - where is he?”

“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”

“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.

“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”

”THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.

***

“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”

“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.

“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).

“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.

“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”

“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”

“Do you hate us all or something?!”

“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.

“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”

“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”

“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

giyuu.exe has stopped working.

#giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x y/n #kny x reader #giyuu x reader fluff #Sunny's Works

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jellicatty · 26 days ago

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♯1 ┆ ❝ SUMMER BUMMER ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. nana and higu golfing. masturbation. grinding. mutual pinning. innuendos. nana and higu are perverts here. jealous! higuruma. reader is a tease. reader wear skirts.

╰┈➤ note : EEEE FINALLY I POSTED THIS it only took me like a months... anywayy, sex scenes aren't really my forte plus this is like the first time i wrote one sooo don't expect too much (?).

╰┈➤ next : groupie love (coming soon) ...

Defendants would put all the blame on him, the court's verdict is seemingly destined to oppose his favor. Or, that's what Higuruma thought. Another failed case, another living being failed by the country's unjust system, another alleged victim thrown into jail.

Higuruma though, knew that these circumstances would happen. His dream have lasted for centuries, formed by his compassion to deliver the accused to light. But little by little, his principles have formed cracks.

Although his workaholic nature is unfaltering, worsened by the multitude of paperworks, Higuruma does crave for rest. But, his work-life balance contradicts his need for relaxation. Until, the opportunity had arrived and he's now trudging to a bar.

To passerby, it was your typical, vintage bar that old and worn-out folks like him would visit. However, Higuruma saw it as a sanctuary for his deep troubles. From drinking with his colleagues or just simply letting his usually work-occupied mind slip away, his favorite bar had seen it all.

"One— No, three of these, please." His ever polite tone still there even as the hours of long work shouldered him down.

The atmosphere rivaled the comfort of his home, and it's probably why Higuruma had an liking for it.

"You're being carried away by your thoughts, Mr. Higuruma." The bartender was quick to notice his blank expression, placing his ordered drinks in an attempt to distract his mind from work.

But, the bartender knew Higuruma too well. Despite connecting only through brief conversations, and a short time together, the bartender had a sense of what Higuruma's state of mind is at the end of the day.

"If you want to take off your mind away from work, then I suggest doing something else for a change." Well, this hasn't been the first time the advice was given to the attorney. He's had his fair share of therapeutic tips from concerned people. None were able to fully convince him though.

"I don't... I'm too busy."

"You wallow in self-pity, yet do nothing to save yourself from it. I've met other people like you, people who find comfort in what makes them distraught." Instead of his duties, the bartender was now focused on Higuruma. "It doesn't end good for them. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that easy to let go of something that you've dedicated your whole life too."

"I'm sure nothing will be lost if you do let go for a fraction of a second."

"You're not going to give this up, huh?" Higuruma sighed, "Well, I'd like to keep a valuable customer." They both chuckled at the Bartender's wishes. After some thought and a drink or two, Higuruma was set on the decision to make some small changes in his life for once.

The problem is, what would be the change?

Gym was out of the question since he frequently did so. Hiking's too taxing and he can't leave his duties for a long time. Sports were a possibility, as long as it didn't physically exert him that much. Golfing, maybe? He thought.

"One of the gents at the bar earlier has been to the newly opened golfing course here."

Ah, golfing it is.

"I think that young fellow over there needs a getaway from their life, too." His focus turned to the younger, blond man sitting three stools away. A few bottles have been emptied, yet it was evident that he could go for a few more. Nothing outstanding from the man aside from his leopard-pattern tie. Just your typical, fatigue worker.

"Looks like you're also preoccupied with your mind, Sir Nanami. I take it as a bad day?"

"No need to say more."

Although Higuruma knew it was not the best to disturb the tired man, he thought that perhaps talking to him would make their mundane nights better. Maybe, to comfort him with the words he wished to hear.

"Sorry for intruding your conversation, but are you new here?"

"Nope. Been here for some time now. Just been a bit busy with some... grueling reports again." He winced at the mention of his work.

"Reports?"

"I'm a salaryman." Higuruma now turned his full attention on Nanami, filling his curiosity. He hands out a calling card, "Here, just in case." And for a brief second, Higuruma almost laughs at his own 'joke' that he always did with his new acquaintances. Fortunately for him, Nanami's humor was not yet stripped away by his boring profession and softly smiled at his friendly remark.

It's a simple change like this is what Nanami wanted. Nothing extraordinary, nothing too small to notice too. The two men shared their experiences, silently bonding over the heavy troubles they carried from day to night. And if they were being honest, this was one of those moments where they surely won't forget. It's like moments like this was there only escape from the tiring duties they must do.

Alas, the deepest night has caught up to them. The lulling blue tones that played throughout their visit no longer graced their ears. The only noise present was their chatter and the kind bartender's huffing and puffing of cigarette.

"You know, despite your gruff look, you're an approachable guy. A fun one too if you squinted."

"Oh, gruff? You should check a mirror, Higuruma."

The two men chuckled at their jokes, slowly packing up their own belongings before cleaning their surroundings. After they finished, they walked together outside.

The blistering cold of the night quickly breezed past the two men. A shiver and a small breath of fresh air later, they nodded at each other and departed from the bar with heavy steps.

The night was still young, and Higuruma's desperate for a change. Fortunately, Nanami Kento had arrived. Albeit small, Nanami still had made a difference to Higuruma's perpetual enervating days.

He doesn't want their interactions to remain just at the bar, though. Perhaps, he should suggest on golfing together to help the blond too.

The summertime heat was merciless. As one could anticipate for this time of year. In the intense heat, Higuruma and Nanami were helpless. Their experienced selves took turns swinging their golf clubs, finding entertainment in their calculated swings and triumphant shots. Empty cups scattered on their table, their belongings left unattended.

Golf seemed like a good start—and maybe their greatest choice by far. It was not only a nice diversion, but it also provided them with the ideal reason to spend time with their favorite entertainment—you, the beverage cart girl.

Weeks have passed, and life has been more tolerable. The first golf meets with Nanami were riddled with a comfortable silence, as if the two men had known each other for a while. The only bond they had was formed on their sleepless nights and persistent work, yet conversations flowed effortlessly. With their unfading politeness and formal talking that stayed even during their golf meets. They both assumed that the other was righteous, and a man of good qualities. Damn were they wrong.

Refined. Upright. Gentlemanly. Those words that used to describe the two men were long discarded. Since your arrival, the two men had been nothing but good, their true colors spilling from the shells of who they used to be. Higuruma could still vividly recall the moment where their true selves slipped. Their gazes were fixed only on you that day, overfilled with joy once you asked for their orders in that sweet voice you had. And right after you left them with their hard rock problems to themselves, they turned to each other as if their eyes alone could communicate. A word did not need to be shared. They knew that you were going to be a problem.

"What do you think's the color of her panties this time, Nanami?" Higuruma positioned his hips in a more appropriate manner, then swung his club.

"That cheeky woman loves pink," Nanami replied.

Aside from golf, they engaged in another game — guessing the color of your panties. As suggested by Higuruma when he caught a glimpse of it a few days ago, this was now the two men's favorite pastime. To them, it seemed only fair since you'd purposely bend over to shamelessly give them a view of your lace-trimmed panties that matched your outfits.

"I highly doubt it will be pink again—"

Out of nowhere, the faint noise of tires screeching slowly approached the two men. Puzzled, they looked at each other first, before turning around. Their eyes confusedly searched for the noise, before their gazes landed on the approaching golf cart— or rather, you.

It was as if you were the oasis in the Sahara desert, quenching the men's thirst with your exposed skin and alluring smile. With your pastel yellow pleats that went inches above your knee, your tight-fit Lululemon jacket that hugged your delectable figure, and your glamoured face, you joyfully steered the cart towards them.

Your beautiful smile greeted them, "Sir Kento! Sir Hiromi! I've brought you your drinks again!"

Higuruma's typically vacant eyes had their spark back to them, the usual boring look it wore instantly disappearing. Meanwhile, the hard lines of Nanami’s face eased, his stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

You hopped off your seat and prepared their ordered drinks, blind to their improper gazes that seek your undergarment.

Luck was merciful, and the world was on their side today when a breeze had swept your skirt upwards in a cartoonish fashion.

"Oh!" Your cheeks flushed scarlet at the embarrassing incident, yet your hands take their time to pull down your skirt.

Their eyes are quicker than your hands, ill-intent gazes finding your undergarment in a flash. Light pink and polka dotted, adorned with a small bow at the front. The kind of panties that he envisioned every night. Nanami snickered, proving himself to be right once again.

"Pay up," Higuruma grumbled, cursing the man under his breath. Their actions no longer define the men they used to be. Their gentlemanliness and polished attitudes dissipate into the air at the sight of you.

"Thanks, angel. You know how to make our day better, huh?" Nanami returned your smile and took the drinks from your hand.

Higuruma is not oblivious enough to overlook Nanami's full interest in you. He's sure that a deprived man like him would ogle at your frame. He applauded the blond's self-control because, God, mini skirts were the death of him.

"That would beeee... 12 dollars!"

"12 only?" Higuruma pulled out his wallet and handed more than the said amount, "Here, keep the change, sweetie." However, your hands clumsily dropped the money.

Your breasts from the tight-fit jacket were threatening to spill out as you bent down to grab the fallen change. Although involuntarily, the two men were able to shortly glance at it and oh, my— what a sight. Two mounds pressed tightly together, sweat sensually gliding on your skin, the natural red flush adding more allure.

Their throats ran dry, needing a refreshment as they were taken aback by the promiscuous view of your tits. There's no way that wasn't intentional, they thought.

Although you often pulled those stunts, your shyness still lingered— a thing that they grew fondness for. You excused your blunder, timidly covering your face as you walked back to your cart.

"Aw, you going so soon?" You knew Higuruma would call for you. After all, he enjoyed your presence and often was the one chatting with you. From his smirk though, you should have known he had something in store for today.

"Come, let Mr. Kento here teach you some golf lessons." Higuruma's true goal of making you break in broad daylight is hidden under his hoax suggestion. Nanami, with his sharp senses, saw Higuruma's real intention, irritated at being his guinea pig for entertainment.

Despite his annoyance, he gratifies the other man's idea. Now, he has an inexcusable reason to close the proximity between you.

You asked the man in your honeyed voice "Would it be okay, Sir Kento?", so sweet it's almost sickly. His ears are focused on your saccharine voice, contradicting his jumbled thoughts that insisted he was sick of hearing it, fearing how much power your words have over him. His mind wonders; Would you have that same, sugary and sweet voice? Would your moans echo like candy, alluring and irresistible?

Nanami's attention was quickly drawn to you, looking up at him, his bulging biceps pressed against your tits. Your big, doll-like eyes are desperate to be taught. Nanami wonders again if you'd have the same look when he'll be ruining you.

"Pleaaseee! My shift will be finished soon!" Your pout was his last straw, a victim to your begging once again. Sighing, Nanami agreed to your requests.

"Yay! Thank you, Sir Kento!"

"Calm down, sweets. Mr. Kento here is going to malfunction if you keep on clinging to him like that." Higuruma snickered at Nanami's flustered face. "Oh, I apologize, Sir Kento!" You sheepishly backed away and regretted your actions.

The truth is, it wasn't just the two men that had their perverse fantasies. You too suffered their charm. Whether it be downing the alcohol they ordered, or simply breathing, it always had been a distraction for you. Their Ralph Lauren polos hugged their bodies in a nice fit, outlining their flexed muscles that shone deliciously under their sweat and the sun's rays. Thick, defined thighs, straining their pants. Even when playing normally, their wealth and professionalism exuded, something that you found very appealing.

"Bend with your hips, Y/n. Not your waist." Would it be wrong to say that you found his strict demeanor attractive? Would it also be wrong to think of the many things Nanami would order you to do in bed?

"Aaand— Did I do it right?!" Nanami's advice went through and exited your ear. Your swings misaligned and your ball never reached the goal.

"Gosh, you're a lost cause, angel. This is how it's done." Without warning, Nanami walked to your back. His proximity was sinful as his crotch settled at your ass, the sudden closeness eliciting a small, shocked gasp from you.

"Like..." He's also affected by the warmth and comfort your ass gave, hot breath fanning over your neck. He extended his arm and put them over yours, guiding your own so you can swing in a correct manner. "This."

But, aiming for the goal was the least of your worries. Not when Nanami's cock is noticeably hardening against your ass.

"There, you did it!"

A mix of disbelief and amusement flickered on Higuruma's face. Regret washed over him as Nanami took his suggestion to another level, scolding himself for underestimating the blond's courage and will to tease you right in front of him. With no escape, he's now forced to watch the consequences of his actions unfold. Yet, despite the pure jealousy clouding his mind, he does admit that the scene was enticing.

His thoughts are improper and vulgar, your flushed expression fueling him more. His train of thought is unavoidable though. Whenever Nanami teased you in broad daylight, publicly, and in front of him, his thoughts will surely be anything but pure.

"S-Sir Hiromi—!" Your voice cried, not for help but for his attention. A whore like you loved the attention. You loved Higuruma's disgusted scowl as he watched the two of you get handsy. You loved Higuruma's body, which reacted opposed to his shown expressions— his bulge visible while his face grimaced.

But, his thoughts got the best of him, and you only wanted to share your achievement.

"Did you s-see my shot? It was perfect!" You finally let out a breath when Nanami pulled away, not without a small, teasing comment whispered at you.

Let him watch.

Oh, you will.

Another time, though, because Higuruma's jealousy was painfully cutting through the air. His patience was wearily thin, and it's all because you cannot stop grinding on Nanami's bulge.

Determined to outdo the blond's ministrations, and also ease his jealousy, Higuruma chimes in., "You mind for a dinner together? Could tell that you need a break just from your eyes alone, sweets."

The sudden attention left you light-headed, shocked with their unspoken rivalry. You had power and influence over them, and you know just how to use it. But for now, your mind could only focus on the fact that you were going to dinner with your client. You’ve overstepped so many rules and most probably going to be in trouble, but a night with a man like Higuruma Hiromi was something you won’t deny.

Nanami sees your excitement. Feeling the sprouted competition happening between him and his friend, he quickly interjects, "I still don't have your number either. What is it, angel?"

Higuruma's betting on all of his suits (which are all expensive, by the way) that Nanami's going to fuck his fist to your pictures tonight. And he wasn't wrong. Because, as soon as Nanami arrived home, his first thought was to check your socials (surprisingly, not his paperwork). He was initially confused since you had an innocent facade online. Shared religious quotes, pictures with family, not a single photo where your boobs are out for everyone to see. He's even doubting if he followed the correct account. The only confirmation he had that it was yours was the new story you had posted.

It was you, right after your shift, posing in front of the mirror with a smile. Your caption about thanking the Lord for another day made him laugh. He's confident that you're praising Nanami for his ministrations earlier instead.

Nanami also wholeheartedly believes you're thanking him too for pressing his hard cock on your ass. He's flattered, and fucking horny, still bothered by the stunt he pulled earlier.

His erection is painful, and Nanami realizes how he could take care of it. Although feeling a bit perverse at the act he's about to do, he shoves his second thoughts away, eager to cum at a picture of you.

His lengthy dick is in his hand, gliding against his tip, then sliding up and down. His pre cum coated the top, oozing continuously as he stared at your picture on screen.

"Fuuuck..." He groaned, eyes closed, panting at the pleasure he was feeling. He indulges in his fantasies, letting his imagination run wild. He thinks of you inside his bedroom, wearing nothing but your light pink underwear, with polka dots all over and decorated with laces and ribbons. The same panties that he caught a glimpse of that he's so weak for. He's curious about what you'd be like, but he knew your salacious nature, and figured that you'll be the same slut you are.

God, if only you were here.

If you were here, it wouldn't be him toying with himself. It would be you, bouncing up and down, drool dripping from your mouth, as his cock fucks your pussy silly. You'd have that dumb look on your face, mind clouded in a lust-frenzy haze as you desperately begged for more.

"Mhm! Sir Kento!" He knows you'd call out to him, your voice ever-so-sweet, whining and weeping at the fervent feeling of him filling you up.

"Gonna cum inside you." is what he'd say if you were here. And you being you, you're fain of his request, straddling his hips as if it was made to be there. You wouldn't pull away. Instead, you'd remain on his dick as splurges of cum shoot out of it.

"T-thank you, Sir" You'd thank him for drowning your sex with his cum. Nanami would only get hard again at your sweetness that managed to stay in the bedroom, and he'd flip you over and pound himself into you.

His empty promises to himself would be fulfilled one day. But for now, his hand will do.

"S-shit" His voice is shaky, body trembling at his intense high. His palm is dirtied by his cum that he hoped was inside of you instead.

Tonight, it will be his hand. Next week, it will be your mouth. He's certain of that— No, he swears it will be your small mouth wrapped on his cock. Perhaps, with Higuruma fucking you silly too.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world

#comment to be tagged for pt 2!#nanami x reader #higuruma x reader #jjk smut #nanami smut #higuruma smut #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi smut #jjk x reader smut #| 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months ago

Text

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up.

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors. He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again.

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board.

There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently.

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one.

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail.

You have to be alive and in good condition.

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected.

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol.

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in.

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after.

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage.

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting.

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really.

It started with Old Lady Sal.

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen.

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf.

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland.

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over.

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can.

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion.

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly.

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck.

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero.

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame.

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid.

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake.

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door.

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother.

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise.

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words.

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain.

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer.

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul.

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together.

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you.

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers.

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth.

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later.

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead.

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface. The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands.

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions.

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight.

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table.

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys.

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently.

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones.

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression.

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants.

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers.

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again.

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones.

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders.

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff.

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too.

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package.

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck.

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days.

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen.

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin.

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner.

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave.

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs.

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you.

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly.

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance.

- You serious?

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up.

- Wait.

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue.

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe.

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily.

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin.

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes. If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender.

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins.

#my writing #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #i walt on his goggins till we fallout

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cinnasweetss · 6 months ago

Text

rickenbacker (p.sh)

synopsis: sunghoon wants to get his hands on the popular indie band's guitarist at his uni. might come with some sacrifices though.

or the one where sunghoon betrays his friend for pussy (deserved!)

genre: smut, pw minimal plot.

characters: guitarist!reader, loser!sunghoon, mean!hyung line

wc: 3.6k

(content under cut)

content: bullying, homie hopping, betrayal, slight voyerism if u squint, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sunghoon doesn’t believe in pulling out, dirty talking, minimal plot, etc etc

sunghoon first sees you at your university's summer festival.

he meets you three weeks later when youre accompanied by heeseung. not exactly on his arm, but its rare to see him with a girl he hasn't slept with.

sunghoon develops his newfound attraction to you then. when he sees you off stage, away from the big lights and loud music played by your guitar. sure you were pretty up there too, but up close, god. he can feel his heart thump in his chest the moment you step inside the room with your bandmates.

he's heard the rumours, that the all-woman band in his university has a knack for attaching themselves to one male friend group a month. thanks to heeseung, he guesses, it's their turn now.

there's four of them, and only one of you. plus the two other girls you came in with, who seem to have drifted right over to Jay and Jake. it doesn't bother him, really. he can pay way more attention to you without having to entertain some girls. he's quickly pulled from it though, when heeseung nudges him with his foot, "Dude, get the beers."

It's embarrassing when you snicker, vampishly nudging his shoulder with an overly drawn out "Don't be so mean, hee." after sunghoon finally makes himself useful.

He sets the cans on the table, watching as multiple hands reach out to grab them until the table is cleared. "You don't drink?" Your voice rings in his ears, coated with disappointment as you watch him shake his head. "He's always been like that, don't mind him."

.....

Sunghoon knows he shouldn't be letting the six of you treat him like this. making him store-run with his own money, ordering him around, expecting him to buy dinner everytime the seven of you go out.

he only does it so he can glimpse at you every now and again. wants to get the most out of these last two weeks he probably has with you before you run off with another group of guys. even when he catches you talking about exactly who that next group is.

You sent him out to buy you a pack of cigarettes just down the block as the other five bullshit around at the bar. He finds you outside, cigarette tucked between two fingers adorned with white nails. "Thanks, hoon" you really have to admit, this is a new dynamic. whenever you and your bandmates attach to a group of guys that outnumber you, the ones who aren't picked seem to fuck off.

sunghoon either doesnt care, or enjoys being the groups water boy. either way, it's fucking weird having him constantly hovering around. "Sit next to me." You invite, scooting over and patting the area beside you. Of course he listens, sitting without a word.

you have to admit, you haven't heard him say anything other then small phrases. you don't even know if he's able to hold a conversation if you tried.

"you're pretty quiet...are you always like this?"

That feels like a knife in the chest. he so badly wants to say no, that it's only like this because the six of you are too busy obsessing over each other to know he's even there. but he knows that's not true. he knows he's heard that too many times for it to not be true. "Yeah, kinda." It leaves him in a mumble, prompting you to shift your body to his to hear him better. over the sound of music from the bar and the sound of cars zooming by.

"I've got another friend, do you want to meet her?"

you don't mean harm by it, you're just curious if this is actually how he is, or if he's only acting this way because his friends are excluding him. which, you are too, but you can only handle one guy at a time. based off experience.

"I'm fine, thanks." it's another mumble you can barely make out, but you know he's declining by the way he doesnt even look at you.

he'd have a greater chance at being picked if he took those glasses off, put some bass in his voice and told his friends "no" once in awhile.

you quickly decide it isn't your job to fix this man, and decide to leave to the next girl who comes around. hopefully she comes quickly enough for him to enjoy his youth. "I'll see you inside."

that leaves sunghoon with his thoughts. with the realisation that his first and likely last conversation with you went to shit just because he can't communicate properly.

he can't help that you intimidate him. maybe its the fact that he knows that youre unreachable despite almost always being a few feet away from him. you're the same on and off stage, too high for him to reach. too pretty to even think of him the same way you think of heeseung.

"Fuck!" it all settles into anger, resulting in an outburst louder than he'd like. it takes him a few minutes before he decides to join the group, eyes settling on you and heeseung tucked away in a booth together.

.....

youre not sure what exactly made you change your mind.

Maybe the fact that heeseung is boring the shit out of you, his head sucks, he doesn't really care about getting you off, or maybe sunghoon is just that much more interesting because of heeseungs recent performance.

maybe its the fact that sunghoon isn't one of the men screaming and shouting so loud you can barely hear the notes from your own guitar. the fact that he's tucked behind heeseung in the crowd, though his eyes are still seemingly stuck on you. doesnt even seem like he's listening, he's just staring. observing from afar.

two nights ago is what really solidified it for you. when heeseung rolled over after cumming once. without even thinking about trying to get you off, even when you pulled the "im gonna cum" line to get him to keep going. it wasn't hard to begin thinking about someone else. thinking about the boy who doesnt say much, barely says anything at all. is completely unreadable, and has no people skills whatsoever.

you haven't said much to heeseung. short texts since then. instead you've made plans to see sunghoon. away from his friend group.

sunghoon is too thrilled to receive a text from you that Friday night almost immediately after your performance.he's supposed to be running to the store for heeseung, grabbing beers and shit for the guys- what the fuck ever. they're gonna turn into a beer if they keep drinking like that.

he doesnt even think twice. you don't even think twice, sending the location of your studio before he can even respond.

it takes him virtually no time to wander off, shoving away Jay when he tells him he's going in the absolute wrong direction. that the store is that way, not that way. his eyes darting around to find the building your studio is inside of.

its not hard for him to find a door with the name of your band plastered right in-front of it. unlocked.

you're tucked against the wall when he comes in, those same prettily manicured hands that often hold a cigarette, strumming at the strings of your blue guitar that sits on your lap. still in the same outfit you wore onstage, making this all the more surreal.

the soft click of the door is what pulls you from it. "Lock it, yeah?" Sunghoon can barely hear you over the loud thumping in his chest, still he manages to do just that. awaiting another order from you. "You can sit. There." the way he moves is awkward, eyes moving around the room, looking at anything but you once he finally sits.

you move your guitar from your lap, joining sunghoon on the leather couch. so close your shoulder brushes against his. "Did you like it? the song, I mean..."

sunghoon only nods, eyes still avoiding yours. "You can talk to me, you know. I don't bite..." he doesn't shy away when you reach out to touch his arm.

usually a guy would gush about how sexy you look on stage, ask to touch your guitar, ask you to teach them a few chords. you don't expect him to fall for the bait, nor notice your attempts at flirting.

your only other option is to not beat around the bush, tell him exactly what you what from him. "I called you here 'cause I wanted to tell you liked you, hoonie." wasn't at all what he was expecting to hear from you next, not when its well known that you're with heeseung.

"You like me too, right? that's why you stick around even though you don't have to." you have no evidence to back this up, might even be super far fetched, but its worth a try. "Yeah, but, you've got heeseung." not too far fetched it seems, "But I want you, hoon." you quickly shake your head, leaning your upper body against his shoulder.

sunghoons got a million things going through his head at once. the fact that if he does anything with you he'd be betraying a long time friend, him being so incredibly turned on beyond belief just because you've got your tits in his hands, almost. the visual of you leaning in to kiss him right now, not knowing whether or not to kiss you back or push you away when you finally do.

you think he's going to. going to push you away and take the side of his friend that wouldnt think twice about doing this with you if the roles were reversed. he's continuously proved you wrong though, wrapping his arms right around your waist.

he'd be absolutely stupid to not kiss you back. he can't believe he even thought about rejecting you. cant believe he thought about sparing heeseungs feelings.

the incessant ringing in his pocket forces you two away, a soft "Sorry..." leaving him as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

speak of the devil.

"What the fuck, you left thirty minutes ago dude!", "hurry the fuck up, seriously."

you can't stand to hear that asshole yelling at him over the phone. he thinks he's hot shit just because he's the oldest and they all listen to whatever he asks. "Don't let him talk to you like that, hoonie..." It's low enough for sunghoon to hear only, "stick up for yourself, hm?"

Sunghoon would rather shoot himself in the foot than look like a fucking loser infront of you. your hand rubs encouraging circles against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. "Get it yourself. I'm busy." he makes sure it's firm, just so you know that he is standing up for himself. "What?! No, I told you to do it. that means do it now. not when you feel like it."

"You didnt fucking hear me? I said I'm busy. Tell Jay to get off his ass and do it for you." you can't lie, that sounds so hot coming from him. it puts a smile on your face, only because you knew he had it in him. even if it did take a little encouragement from you. "Hang up." this time you make sure your words are loud enough to go through that speaker, making sure heeseung hears you.

"Who are you with?"

With heeseung in his ear, and you practically on his lap and pressing kisses against his cheek, it's clear he needs to get off the phone. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fucking business." it's just as harsh as his words before, and yet all heeseung can say is "Who the fuck are you with, sunghoon?!"

he knows exactly who he's with. that goes without saying, especially when you whine a "Pay attention to me, hoon..." right. into. the mic.

you both can hear heeseung go absolutely ballistic as you push the phone away from sunghoon's ear, cupping his face so you can finally get back to kissing him. you're sure heeseung got a earful of heavy breaths and kisses before you finally make sure the call disconnects.

Sunghoons new found confidence comes with a bit of dominance to it seems, leading the kiss even when you straddle him and immediately grind against him. his hands instinctively move to hold your hips, only cause he wants to seriously focus on kissing you for awhile. wants to enjoy the taste of your lipgloss after he pushes his tongue past your lips.

neither of you can really do that though, not when you're both pulling at each others clothing at the same time. you want his pants off to see what he's working with, and he wants a tit in his mouth. your hands are constantly fumbling around each other, so much that you pull away with a laugh. you quickly pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side.

he's got an eyeful of your tits in your cheetah print bra, and an even bigger one when you reach behind your back to take it off. he's practically drooling, mouth hung open, focused right on the metal that runs through each nipple.

"holy shit."

he nearly cums right then and there. maybe he does, he's not too sure, wouldnt be surprised if he did. especially because when he does get a tit in his mouth, its absolutely euphoric. coldness of the metal pressed right against his tongue, grazing his teeth. your other tit sits perfectly in his hand that's switching between groping, and tugging right on your sensitive nipple.

your hands are fumbling under his shirt, trying to unbuckle his belt so you can stick hand in his pants just to cop a feel. a soft "Can I eat you out?" stops you. how can you ever say no to such a request?

You nearly fall trying to get off of him quickly so he can find a spot between your legs. suddenly the size of his dick doesnt matter, as long as he's good at this. which, he quickly proves that he is. doesnt even bother taking off your panties, nor your skirt for that matter. he just flips it up and pushes your panties to the side.

your jaw falls open, hands immediately reaching for the head between your legs. the feeling his tongue brings is pure bliss. he knows exactly where the clit is, when to switch from licking to sucking, when to push two fingers inside and- "Fuck!" he's just barely started, yet you're already this much of a mess.

its not his fault he can't stop mouthing away at your cunt, moaning each time his tongue flicks against your clit. you just taste so good, no matter how much he licks away at you, it isn't nearly enough to satiate him. he has to pull away, take those damned glasses off his face so he can bury himself deeper between your legs.

His fingers plunging in and out of you to match the rhythm and speed of his tongue only tighten that coil in your stomach. if he manages to make you cum from this, you'll be keeping him a lot longer than usual. especially because he seems to be enjoying this just as much as you do. moaning each time your hands tug on his hair and you grind against his lips.

You're unable to stop the plethora of sounds that leave you with each flick of his tongue and movement of his fingers. it's no surprise that you're just minutes away from succumbing to your orgasm."Don't stop!" Sunghoon doesn't dare think of stopping, keeps his pace steady as he eases that orgasm right from you. his eyes lock right on your face, watching as your brows furrow and your face contorts beautifully after your "I'm cumming!" he eats you through it and then some, until you stop squirming, and your grip loosens on his hair.

You genuinely believe you've seen god, that he told you to never ever settle for anything other than this. Sunghoon emerging from your legs with the same fingers that were previously inside of you now tucked between his lips, makes you wonder if he's god with the way he just sucked your soul right out of you.

you watch as he undresses himself. unveiling a surprisingly built figure you didn't know he had. and the fact that he's hung on top of all that. can't deny, you can't wait to figure out of he's as good with his dick as he is his mouth.

neither of you think twice about a condom, not when he climbs on top of you and kisses you again. you'd be fine with just this, honestly. just kissing him all night. "Ready?"

you think its really cute that he asks, not saying the bar is in hell, but its still a nice gesture. you smile up at him, a soft "yeah" and a head nod is all it takes. he shoves a hand between your bodies, lining himself up with your entrance.

you wince as he slides in, sunghoon watching intensely for any other obvious signs of discomfort. his jaw falls open, forehead pressed against yours once he finally bottoms out. he gives you a second before his hips retract and slow meet yours once again. you're relieved he doesnt immediately begin to pounce on you, as this is enough to have you clawing at his forearms.

youre just so tight, sucking him right back in anytime he pulls away. the constant clenching and trembling of your walls around him is enough to have him cum just from these very soft and cautious movements of his.

his lips find yours again, kissing through the next few thrusts in which he goes impossibly deeper, and quicker. "Fuck, you're so wet..." those words force a moan out of you that you didnt know you were holding. "Pussy's creamin' already." so not only does he know exactly what he's doing, he's talking you through it too.

you'd be satisfied if today was your last day on earth. if you died right here, right after hearing those words leave his mouth. you had no idea he had all this in him. that he was even the type, honestly. you know what they say about the quiet ones though.

you don't even have to tell him faster, its like he's reading your fucking mind. like he's became one with you so he knows exactly what to do and when to do it. its the first time you haven't had to coach a man through the entire thing. that is, if you want to get off. you'll be damned if you let this one get away.

"holy shit" he moans above you, forcing your legs over his shoulders so he can fuck deeper. you cant squirm like this either, forcing you to lay and take every single inch he's giving you. it doesnt matter how hard you push at his hips so he can take maybe an inch or two out of you, he's unrelenting.

"Hoon!" you shout, hands grabbing at the soft leather below you one you realize he's not stopping anytime soon. his thrusts are quick and short, sharp. the sound of skin slapping, moans, and the like fill the studio. more vulgar words and praises leave him, only adding to the overwhelming pleasure youre receiving from him. "Gonna keep fucking this pussy open till you stop squirming."

to be loved is to be heard. to be loved is to be seen. to be loved is to be fucked. hard.

"Sunghoon!" your breath quickens, heart thumps in your chest when you realise he's almost fucked you into another orgasm. there's no need to say it, he knows after observing you just once.

" 's so big, 's too big!" you're either gonna cum so hard you pass out, or he's gonna split you right in half. either one. you'll be fine with both, really.

the fine details are irrelevant, what matters is the absolute euphoria your walls give. his balls are so heavy and full, aching to finally release a load. he's almost there, right with you. insisting, telling you that you're gonna keep taking him until you finish. not before.

"Hoon, i'm-" it's incredible when you finally do. your walls contract so hard, your body convulses, a string of loudly drawn out sounds of ecstasy leave you before you're even able to tell him.

you swear you're ascending, cumming so hard you can't even hear sunghoon coax you through it. it's the first time you ever have tap out. having to beg him to stop for just a second. you're just so overwhelmed.

he does, kissing your chest soothingly, though not for long. he does give you a second. one second and then he's back at it again. chasing his own high. "I'm gonna cum. Holy shit."

his hips come to a hard halt. slamming into your hips one more time as he fucks his cum right into you. "Fuck!" it vocalizes in a jumble of moans, heavy breaths, and one tight grip on your hips.

he collapses ontop of you thereafter, pulling himself out of you with a hiss. his face nuzzles in your neck, leaving soft kisses there. it's almost no surprise that he's ready for round two minutes after. lifting himself off of you with a big dorky smile, and "Can we go again?"

heeseung hyung i'm gonna fuck you up for this. 11:42pm

#cinnasweetss #enhypen #smut #sunghoon #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #enha x reader #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen smut #cinnasweetss: rickenbacker #fav #enhablr #divider by: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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ivyinne · 6 months ago

Text

I've been thinking about this theory about Riko orchestrating Jean's sexual abuse as punishment for his attraction to Kevin, because Riko is not in the habit of sharing his possessions. And while at first glance it would seem that Riko does this because it's Kevin... looking deeper I get the feeling that his attitude extends to the rest of the Perfect Court too.

Consider Andrew.

Riko sets first Drake and then Proust on Andrew, and the implication is that Andrew cannot get away with "taking Riko's things." This obviously refers to Kevin, but I don't think it refers to Kevin alone. It's significant that Riko brings it up with Neil and Neil only, and it happens during this specific conversation.

Riko uses Andrew to taunt and intimidate Neil, immediately after Neil implies that Riko is not the only thing saving him from his father. We come to understand several things in the course of this conversation:

That Riko considers Andrew to be responsible for Neil's continued refusal to return to his place among the Ravens.

That he believes threatening Andrew's safety will be enough to convince Neil to come to Evermore.

Which means that Riko obviously has an inkling of what Andrew and Neil mean to each other (even if Neil does not yet). He weaponizes this knowledge against both of them, and while Neil ends up going to Evermore, it does not mean that Riko lets Andrew get away.

That's because he never intended to. When Riko refers to Andrew as the miniature one with the disgusting attitude who thinks he can take my things, his "things" refer not merely to Kevin but, to a heavy extent, also to Neil, and he punishes Andrew for his closeness to Neil the same way he punished Jean's closeness to Kevin.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, quite simply put, it's all because of the as-yet unexplained January incident that Jean brings up in The Sunshine Court.

We know that following Neil's departure from the Nest, Zane betrayed Jean by setting Grayson on him. What we don't know is what Riko did to Zane and Grayson afterwards, or why.

Jean brings it up several times, but only refers to it obliquely, and doesn't give us any details:

I don't think Riko cares about what happened to Jean, of course not. But it makes too much sense to me that he decided what Zane and Grayson did was an insult to him, Riko, because how dare they touch his property when he hasn't permitted it? How dare they take his things? How dare Grayson pretend he has some sort of claim to Jean?

I'm throwing this theory out because I have nothing to lose: whatever Riko did to Zane and Grayson was in retaliation to what they did to Jean, but not because Riko cares. He did so only because Jean was another one of Riko's things, and those who take his things away must be reminded of their place.

So, yes, I think all of this is an extension of the fact that Riko has an unhealthy obsession with the people he considers to be his pets or his property. Transgressions against his claim over them deserve to be punished for the insult.

Even if those transgressions are committed by the Perfect Court itself. Riko plays the part of the jealously possessive master, the one they should all devote themselves to, the only one with authority over them. No one else can have them — which means they cannot have each other either.

#aftg #all for the game #the sunshine court #neil josten #jean moreau #andrew minyard #kevin day #riko moriyama #andreil #tsc #tfc #the foxhole court #disclaimer: im fully prepared to be proven wrong by book 2 but until then you can pry this theory out of my cold dead hands

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tinydefector · 7 months ago

Text

Human's effects

More a silly little thing that I had to write out.

Warnings: talks about sex, xenophilia, kinks

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Human Effects 2 - characters

Request are open

____

There were a lot of things that fascinated the cybertronians over humans. Their size, body types, skin tones and those soft they are.

So many of them become so fascinated over the fact that such small and fragile creatures don't have plating to protect themselves but only wear soft fabrics.

And it slowly leads a lot of Cybertronians to realising they were Xenophiles.

A list of kinks and fetishes cybertronians discovered from it.

-size kink

-skin fetish

- hair pulling

- silk and ribbon play

- cum inflation

-breeding

-pet play

- vore

-fluid play and consumption

- spiking warming

- Heart and spark syncing

- new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

There's originally a lot of unknowns about humans, and cybertronians are rather intrigued, for one the first times the a lot of the crew of lost light had encountered them was on black market and high priced pets, and companions.

There were exceptions such as Perceptor, Ratchet and Megatron who had been around humans before but for a lot of the bots this was their first time seeing them. that is until they are assigned a human communications, relations Ambassador/ liaison.

But after the black market incident it had led a lot of bots into research over humans. And it just spirals more with them discovering some rather dark history with cybertronians keeping humans as playthings. And finding out their ‘interface equipment’ isn't that different from their own, just more organic and smaller.

A late night of drinking at swerve slowly devolved into conversation over their local human. Brainstorm sits nursing his drink of engex while he and others of the ship chat away. "So does it fascinate anyone else over the fact that humans don't have natural plating or any kind of protection for their squishy form?" He brings up, he himself had fallen down the rabbit hole of human porn but didn't quite know how to breach the subject with anyone else.

"Oh Primus, look who decided to join us, thought you were holding up with your Conjunx Chrome!" Swerve said with a chuckle, placing more drinks down. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools and leaned in eagerly, His attention flicks to Brainstorm. "You bring up a good point, Brainstorm," Swerve replied.

"Those squishy humans are really something else, ain't they? No armour, no defences - I'd be scared outta my circuits if I was just soft protoform all the time!, like i’m so surprised squishy hasn't been stepped on yet"

Rodimus nodded in agreement. "Yet they've managed to survive just fine so far. There's obviously more to them than meets the eye. Like i've seen some of the things our ambassador can do like the strange stretching"

"I dunno," Skids chimed in. "Seems pretty fraggin' reckless if you ask me. One good shot and it lights out!"

Rewind shuddered. "Ugh, don't remind me. Just thinking about all those organics and tubes and who knows what else squishing around in there makes my fuel tank turn." He made a dramatic churning sound effect.

Riptide laughed. "I saw a nature documentary once about these hairless ape creatures the humans evolved from. Now THOSE guys were squishy."

“What in Primus have you been watching?!”

“some old earth docs that Percy’s has, bots got a lot of info on Terra and the planet's history” The bots shared a collective laugh at the image. Swerve took a swig of his energon. "Frag, maybe there's something to be said about living on the edge like that! Sure keeps things interesting, its still strange that they are somehow one of the top predators of their planet yet are smaller than half the things they eat"

Brainstorm goes quiet for a moment. "Have you seen how flexible they are?"

Swerve nearly spit out his energon. "Whoa hey, I don't need those kinds of vivid imagery floatin' around my processor thank you very much!, keep the squishy interface vids to yourself" he said, waving his hands animatedly.

"You have to admit, the way those fleshbags can contort themselves is pretty impressive," Skids added. "Must come in handy for.. maintenance." He waggled his optical ridges suggestively.

Brainstorm nodded pensively. "Indeed. Their non-metal structure allows for feats we could never replicate by ourselves." He took a sip of his energon. "Always makes me curious what other evolutionary adaptations they've developed to compensate for such vulnerability. The potential for scientific discovery is endlessly fascinating with their species and ancestors."

Riptide shrugged. "As long as they don't expect ME to try any of their bone-breaking yoga moves," he laughed. "This chassis is meant for tough stuff, not Twister!"

"You think they would be soft, you know if you interface with one?" Brainstorm asked while downing his drink, the engex was slowly going to his processor loosening his lips.

"Oh don't give me that look I know for a fact you all have thought about doing with a human at least once! Rodimus I know for a fact you eye them up everytime our little liaison walks past you" He calls out Rodimus.

Rodimus nearly choked on his energon in an attempt to look innocent. "Wh-what? That's not - I never -" he sputtered in protest, flustered optics darting around at the other bots.

Brainstorm smirked as Rodimus squirmed uncomfortably on the stool. "Oh please, don't try to deny it, Captain. You're about as subtle as a combiner in a supply closet."

"Roddy's got the hots for squishy, who knew!" Swerve giggled uncontrollably.

Skids nudged Riptide playfully. "Hey, maybe we got a xenophiliac on the ship!"

"Alright alright, knock it off you glitches," Rodimus growled, though the blue flush across his face said otherwise. "I was just... curious, that's all. They ARE a strange species."

Swerve tried to contain his laughter. "Ohhh I bet you are more than curious, if you catch my drift!, wanna get up close and personal" More raucous peals of laughter from the group.

Brainstorm stroked his chin in thought. "They do feel intriguingly delicate. I wonder if their flexible frames would be more pleasurable to interface with than our own rigid forms..."

"Have you seen videos of them, they stretch a lot, like a lot, like I know human skin is resilient but i didn't think they were that resilient " Brainstorm states remembering some of the videos he had seen online. Other bots peak up intrigued.

Swerve choked again as his fuel tank nearly turned inside out. "Brainstorm! That's... more than I needed to visualise, thank you very much."

Skids seemed a bit less phased. "Fleshbags gettin' their twist on, huh? Can't say I'm not curious now."

Even Rodimus seemed intrigued despite his earlier protests. "Resilient is an understatement. I've seen some of the contortions that humans can do - it's astounding that their protoforms don't tear apart."

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely! With the right lubrication and technique, I hypothesise an interface with a limber human form would provide entirely novel sensory data."

Riptide shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure I'm ready to dive into the fleshy deep end just yet.”

Swerve shot him a sly grin. "Aw c'mon Rip, live a little! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Rodimus tried to steer the subject elsewhere. "Let's maybe change topics before someone needs a wipe down. Or Primus forbid, Magnus overhears you lot"

"I hope I did not hear what my processor just heard" Ultra Magnus states while staring down at the group of drinking mechs. A Lot of bots in the bar snicker at the group getting in trouble.

"Come on Sir, get that wrench out of you aft, join us!" Skids called out.

Swerve let out an audible squeak at Ultra Magnus's stern tone, almost dropping his engex in panic. "U-Um, Magnus sir! Fancy seeing you here. We were just, uh, discussing..."

He shot desperate optics at the others for help, but they all seemed to shrink down in their seats under Magnus's disapproving glare.

Rodimus flashed an uneasy grin. "Just having a friendly debate about alien species, you know how it is. Brainstorm was bringing up some, er, interesting biological points..."

Ultra Magnus sighed wearily. "I'd rather not know the details, thank you. Some topics are best left undiscussed in public."

The whole bar erupted into laughter at the group's misfortune. "Ah lay off em Magnus!" one patron called out. "They're just havin' fun!"

Another bot piped up. "Yeah, loosen up that rusty chassis and join us! One drink won't hurt."

Magnus scowled, unamused. But as the encouragement grew louder, he glanced around hesitantly...

Swerve spotted an opening. "C'mon Magnus, live a little! I'll even give you a two-for-one special." He flashed a hopeful grin.

The enforcer grumbled but his resolve was cracking. Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool. "One drink." Swerve whooped and poured him a double.

They cheer as Magnus sits down to drink with them. Skids speak up. "So brainstorm you saying you'd hook up with a fleshy, get nice and personal with a human" he calls out with a laugh.

Brainstorm leaned forward eagerly. "Why of course! The pursuit of scientific knowledge knows no boundaries. Though upon further review, direct interfacing with an organic might require certain, ah, safety protocols."

Skids peered at him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of 'research' are you plannin' on doing Brainy?"

Swerve nudged Riptide with a smirk. "I'll bet ya 20 shanix Brainstorm's just trying to find an excuse to get jiggy with the humies!"

Riptide snorted. "No way, I ain't takin' THAT bet!"

Rodimus dropped his face in his palms with a groan. "can we PLEASE stop picturing Brainstorm fragging humans?"

Ultra Magnus coughed on his engex, catching the comment he'd really rather not have heard.

But Brainstorm paid them no mind, lost in scientific contemplation. "The human capacity for sensory input and feedback would provide a rich study on cross-species interface protocol adaptability..."

"INTERFACE PROTOCOLS?!" Swerve shrieked. The table erupted into howls of laughter at Magnus's deeply uncomfortable expression. It was going to be a LONG night indeed.

“Primus Brainstorm you kinky fragger”

"Fine then everyone servo up if your not at least somewhat curious or thought about it at least once" Brainstorm calls out to all of Swerve's bars patrons

"Oooh, Brainstorm's putting us all on the spot!" Swerve giggled with gleeful mischief. He raised his servo without hesitation.

Skids was quick to follow suit, slamming his half-empty glass down. "Frag it, I'll admit it! Those soft squishy bodies got me wonderin' what else they're good for."

To everyone's surprise, Rodimus sheepishly lifted a servo as well, avoiding optic contact with Ultra Magnus. Riptide shrugged and joined in the show of servos, if only to blend in.

The majority of bots in the bar started raising their hands amid roars of laughter and drunken encouragement. Only a select few hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Magnus.

The enforcement officer's expression cycled through outrage, resignation and back to outrage as his gaze swept over the forest of raised servos. "I cannot condone such deviant interest in alien biologies," he protested, voice stiff.

But as more servos stayed stubbornly aloft, Magnus sagged with a weary sigh. After a long moment, he slowly, begrudgingly raised one massive hand as well.

The bar erupted into ear-splitting cheers. Swerve howled with glee, banging his fists on the counter. "Look's like we've all got a bit of xenophile in us after all! Even you, Magnus my mech!"

Magnus buried his faceplate in his servos as Brainstorm cackled maniacally. Once the bar settles back down its Swerve who speaks up with a smirk on his faceplate. "So... which one of you charming mechs are gonna be the first to try and get our lovely Liaison?" He teases.

Rodimus sputtered into his drink at Swerve's question, flushing brighter. "W-what? I never said anything about actually doing anything!, it's all just fantasies Swerve!" he protested in a hissed tone.

Skids rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well they do have a cute lil' figure. Bet they'd be a wild ride..."

Swerve grinned slyly at Rodimus. "Aw c'mon Captain, don't tell me you ain't thought about it at least once! I bet they'd be real fun to break in, get all soft and pliable..."

Rodimus smacked Swerve upside the helm. "Knock it off!" He shot a pleading glance at Ultra Magnus as if begging for rescue.

But unexpectedly, Brainstorm was the one who spoke up. "While the organic's flexibility is intriguing, directly interfacing could introduce unknown health risks or cultural taboos. Outside the fact our people have kept humans as pets and companions in the past. A more ethical approach would be gaining consent for strictly observational research."

Riptide frowned. "Not sure the liaison would go for that either Storm"

Swerve sighed dreamily. "Just imagine wrapping those soft squishy bits all around you though... bet they'd feel amazing..."

"SWERVE." Magnus's warning tone silenced the cheeky bartender immediately. He turned back to Rodimus with a sigh. "Despite certain... Curiosities, directly engaging an organics such a manner would be unwise, dangerous even, not to mention our form are much larger and could harm a human."

Rewind nodded gratefully at Magnus, relieved the subject was shifting. But the mischievous glint in Swerve's optic suggested his teasing wasn't over yet. It was going to be a long night indeed.

"Relax Mags I'm just riling these drunk mech up. Unless you're interested in our sweet little ambassador" he teases, making other bots choke on their drinks.

Ultra Magnus's icy glare could have frozen Swerve's energon. "Need I remind you this conversation is highly inappropriate and unprofessional," he said sternly.

But to everyone's surprise, Rodimus let out an undignified snort of laughter. "As if Magnus would ever break protocol like that! He'd probably recite the entire Autobot code of conduct while fragging."

The whole bar erupted in howls of mirth at the mental image.

Swerve was nearly rolling on the floor. "Can you imagine?! 'Paragraph 3, subsection B clearly states interfacing with sentient aliens requires prior diplomatic clearance forms in triplicate!'" he cried in a mockingly stiff voice.

Skids were wiping away fuel tears. "Primus if MR. RULES AND REGS ever broke the rules, it'd be one for the history archives!"

Riptide jabbed Skids in the side. "Ten shanix says he'd have them memorising regulations the whole time!"

"Twenty shanix says they'd run screaming first!" Swerve shot back.

The bets and ribbing escalated as more mechs joined in. Across the table, Rodimus shoved Magnus playfully. "C'mon Magnus, live on the wild side for once!"

Magnus's rumbling huff was the only response. Watching his rigid commander finally loosening up filled Swerve with delight. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to get Magnus to break protocol yet! It was shaping up to be the best night ever.

"Ohhh let's make this fun. I list some bots and you say if you think they would hook up with a human" Riptide states. "Rung, Drift and Ratchet" he calls out the names.

Swerve let out a dramatic gasp. "Ooh spicy!"

"Rung is definitely curious but way too professional. Might let loose over a couple cubes of engex though!"

Skids broke into hysterics at Riptide's suggestions. "Rung and a HUMAN?! Rung doesn't even touch his OWN interface panel!"

Rodimus snorted. "Can you imagine? 'My dear, it seems you're experiencing some psychological interfacing blockers. Please, tell me how that makes you feel.'"

"Drift guy's definitely intrigued by other species, if you know what I mean. Plus he's artsy so he'd probably appreciate the 'aesthetic'." Swerve responds

"Drift might go for it, he's open to new experiences," Rodimus mused with a grin.

Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, his spiritual philosophies suggest an openness to cultural exchange that others may lack. I think if he and ratchet weren't together its something he might try"

"Ratchet. bah! As if that grumpy old rust-bucket would try anything so illogical. Unless she's a doctor too and starts quoting his favourite protocols... then all bets are off!" Skids laughed.

"Ratchet? Nah, too much of a hard aft. He'd just bitch about human biohazards the whole time," Swerve giggled.

"Well if Drift was interested I'm pretty sure that mecn could get ratchet to do anything with the bat of his optics" Rodimus remarks.

The table erupted in raucous laughter. Swerve took a playful bow. "Alright bring on the next victims!"

Riptide rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how about...Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Whirl?"

Swerve cackled wickedly. "Tailgate would be way too nervous but he'd try for his Conjunx Cyclonus. Cyclonus would 100% use his broody vibes to charm her pants off but only for Tailgate. And Whirl? He doesn't interface, he destroys! So that liaison better watch her interfacing ports around that lunatic!"

Chromedome interjects stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tailgate would be way too nervous and shy, I think. He'd probably short-circuit just from holding hands!"

Riptide nodded. "Cyclonus has always struck me as the kinky type. Wonder if he's into those squishy bits like Brainstorm thinks..."

"Whirl would frag anything that moves," Rodimus interjected with a grimace. "But I don't think an organic would survive the experience!"

Brainstorm stroked his chin. "Indeed, Whirl's interfacing protocol subroutines seem rather...enthusiastic. Consent might be a fleeting concept. Better to observe from a safe distance."

Swerve shuddered. "Ugh, don't make me picture that psycho getting 'friendly' with a human! I'm tryna keep my fuel down y'know."

The names continue being dropped.

" First Aid! I don't know if the medic-bot's got it in him to break the rules. But I betcha if he did, he'd be real gentle and caring-like. He'd have them feelin' better than new in no time!"

Skids grinned devilishly. "Yeah but would they feel better? Aid's so straight and narrow I bet he'd put em in stasis lock from boredom!"

"Now Perceptor on the other hand..." Swerve tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Bookish type, but you know there's a passionate scientist in there waiting to experiment. Think he'd go slow and methodical, really take his time 'exploring the specimen'."

"his thirst for organic sciences might overpower his good sense," Rewind remarks.

“optimus prime, Prowl and bumblebee ” Chromedome interjects with his own inquiries.

Swerve pretended to wipe away exhaust fumes. "Primus help me, this is gonna be good... Optimus Prime is obviously Mister Morality himself, but you know he's got a secret wild side under all that virtue signalling. Just imagine how freaky he could get with some alien nookie!"

The bar erupted in incredulous, drunken laughter and cheers. Swerve grinned impishly.

"As for Prowl, I'm telling you that stick up his tailpipe is begging to come out and play. One roll in the berth with a naughty fleshy and he'd loosen up reeeal nice!"

"And Bee? He's a sweet kid, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones! Between his cute lil' face and that tight chassis, he'd have the human lining up to frag that glitch right into stasis!"

The bar absolutely lost it, bots falling over each other in drunken hysterics. Even Mirage was struggling not to fall off his chair. Swerve took an exaggerated bow as his audience howled.

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all cycle! Now who's ready for the next round?" More shouts and clanking glasses answered his call. It was shaping up to be the wildest night at Swerve's yet!

Magnus dropping Megatron's name that really sent them over the edge.

"Megatron?! With the liaison?!" Rodimus howled with laughter, nearly spitting out his drink. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all cycle!"

But Swerve wasn't done. "Megatron? Now THAT'S an image! 'You pathetic fleshbag, you DARE try to mount the great Megatron?! Grovel before my interface array!'"

Magnus adds more information which makes everyone surprised " He and the ambassador are rather close" He states

Rewind speaks up from Chromedome’s side. "Y'know... they do have a certain chemistry. I'll bet under all that scowling and chipped armour there's a softie just waitin' for the right tender touch to melt his spark. And they have got sass to spare bet they could handle Megatron's brooding and snarl!"

"Twenty shanix says he'd have them trembling and beggin' for mercy in no time flat!" Skids bet eagerly.

"You're on!" crowed Riptide. "But I still think Perceptor's the real dark horse..."

#transformers #rodimus #transformers x human #megatron #transformers idw #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #transformers megatron #mtmte swerve #chromedome #mtmte rewind #ultra magnus #valveplug

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