#women's casual ribbed shorts

[godolly]

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[sugugasm]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

“holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve and Robin have spent most of their shifts at Family Video, whispering and giving each other suggestive glances whenever a pretty girl walks through the door. Steve used to hate it whenever Tommy H. made him do stuff like this, but it's different with Robin. Less about objectifying and more about admiring a woman's beauty — at least, that's what Robin tells him when he brings it up one day. 

With his conscious clean, he leans into it, and the two have so much fun silently staring at pretty girls. They learn that they have pretty much the same taste in women — minus Tammy Thompson — which isn't surprising considering they share just about everything in common. 

And while it's fun sharing glances and watching each other blush red when the cute girl gives one of them more attention, Steve also wishes he had someone who would do that with him when he spots a cute guy in the mix. Steve tried to bring it up to Robin once, but she wasn't having it. 

"Stevie," she leveled. "All I see is a faceless blurb that smells too much like pine. You're the only guy for me." 

So, he let it go. 

- 

Eddie and Gareth have a similar game they play whenever they drive out to Indy. Gareth is usually the one to point out a petite blonde walking in their favorite record shop. If she heads to the metal section, Eddie can make a move. If it's anything else, Gareth gets to try. 

Nine times out of 10, it's Gareth who flirts his way to a phone number. 

Not that Eddie minds. 

He has just as much fun watching his friend hopelessly flirt while casually checking out the guys who wander in the record store. 

Gareth always gives him a friendly nudge whenever he notices Eddie staring too long at the back of some guy's short haircut, but it's not the same as the gentle ribbing they give each other when a cute girl walks in. 

Gareth isn't into guys like he is, and that's fine.

But sometimes Eddie wishes he had someone to compare his taste in men with. 

- 

When Steve and Eddie realize they're both bisexual, they rejoice. Finally, they have someone to play their silly games with.

 Except, it doesn't go at all like they'd except. 

See, Steve and Eddie are both so used to having friends share their tastes in women that they don't even consider the fact that they might have different taste in men. 

But they do.

They're hanging out in the lobby of the Hawkins Theater, waiting for the kids to finish getting their snacks, when Steve sees him. A guy with disheveled auburn hair and a black denim jacket cuffed at the sleeves with random patches on it. He's got a blue bandana tied around his forearm and bulky black boots. 

"He's cute right?" Steve asks, nodding his head toward the guy in question. 

Eddie scoffs. Scrunches up his nose like he's just smelt the worst smell imaginable and turns towards Steve. "You're kidding me, right Stevie? That dude is a grade-a-punk! A wannabe one at that! I bet he smells like cheap cigarettes and hasn't washed his hair in days." 

"You smell like cheap cigarettes and don't wash your hair every day," Steve says, rolling his eyes at Eddie's outburst. 

"Yeah, but I'm also broke. That guys doing it for the stupid aesthetic." 

Steve scoffs and lets his eyes follow the guy until he disappears inside one of the theaters. 

"Alright then, what's your type, Munson?" 

Eddie hums and takes a moment to scan the crowded theater and the stops. When he turns toward Steve, he's sporting a giant grin. 

"Guy. Six o'clock. By the butter dispenser." 

Steve slowly turns around and nearly buckles at the knee when he spots the guy in question. 

Short hair, combed back so every strand of hair is in place. He's got on a letterman jacket from one of the neighboring schools, crisp white shoes, and his left hand is tucked into the jean pocket of who he assumes to be his girlfriend. 

"Him?" Steve chokes. "But he's so…" 

"Pretty?" 

"Jock-ish!" Steve supplies instead. "I thought you hated jocks!"

"I hate what they represent," Eddie says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tears his eyes away from the guy and stares right at Steve. "But I can't help it if they have a cute face that's begging to be corrupted." 

It isn't until days later when Steve and Eddie are both complaining to their best friends, do they realize that having different tastes might not be such a bad thing. 

Especially when their taste in men is each other.

[iwannakisskissyoureyesagain]

will solace headcanon time i love my boy

- casual stoner. when he gets breaks from the infirmary, he and drew get weed from behind the dionysus cabin and smoke together. they like to do it on the big house porch because dionysus couldn’t care less—the only reason he doesn’t do it with them is because he’s not sure if it goes against his punishment from zeus—or behind the apollo cabin when chiron’s around. piper has a cart and the two of them take hits from it and talk shit whenever she comes to visit. he doesn’t really smoke around nico though, just because he’s said he doesn’t like the smell (nico doesn’t really care otherwise, since it helps with will’s anxiety), and definitely not around percy because of everything that happened with gabe

- he’s started talking to dionysus about his anxiety, imposter syndrome, and seasonal depression. dionysus wants to talk to him about testing him for mild ocd

- his hair looks like a renaissance painting of patroclus, just blond

- loves his friends so much. he’s their biggest supporter in the entire world and if they didn’t all live at camp, he’d probably try to convince them to all live in a giant house together

- he’s very casually affectionate. he says i love you a lot, but he always means it. hugs and kisses his friends on the cheek. physical touch is his giving love language (he always makes sure he has consent, first, obviously)

- his receiving love language, however, are words of affirmation. he needs to verbally hear that he’s doing a good job—as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a healer, as a son, just in life

- he’s trained himself to be a light sleeper after years of working in the infirmary and becoming head counselor. sometimes his body just wakes himself up in the middle of the night and he has to sit in the infirmary until he’s positive that everything and everyone is fine and he’s literally the only one awake

- similarly, he has a crazy sixth sense of knowing when his stop is if he ever dozes off on public transport, and always wakes up two stops before. he thinks it stems from spending his a lot of his formative years traveling around with his mom while she toured, constantly waking up in new cities

- he iris messages his mom every night and tells her every single detail of his day

- being both a true crime junkie and a medic at a demigod camp, gore has absolutely no affect on him. this boy delivered a baby and has reattached countless limbs; he falls asleep listening to podcasts where twenty-something women talk about serial killers so notorious they have to give a content warning. a Saw trap isn’t going to faze him

- he met maren morris when he was younger and his mom opened for her. he got her signature and is still planning on getting it tattooed, he just hasn’t had a chance

- he has a very high pain tolerance and has a lot of stick-n-pokes, some of which he did himself, including a wonky-looking star that he let nico do and woobeewoo from Adventure Time

- his favorite music artists include kasey musgraves, taylor swift, leith ross, baby fisher, gracie abrams, fiona apple, fleetwood mac, dolly parton, carrie underwood, and troye sivan

- “ribs” by lorde makes him cry

- so does “the bug collector” by haley heynderickx

- he’s terrified of spiders

- he cries when anything at all happens to a dog in a movie. he watched All Dogs Go to Heaven with nico and was a such disaster by the time the credits rolled that the two of them had to sit there for half an hour until he calmed down. he has a core memory of watching Bolt with his mom when he was little and sobbing into her arms at the end. his siblings have expressly forbidden him from ever watching A Dog’s Purpose, for fear that it would literally send him into a deep depression

- kayla literally bought him cargo pants because she was so sick of him wearing shorts in the middle of winter. he’ll never admit it, but they’re his favorite pants he owns

- his fictional crushes are rodrick heffley, both marceline and marshall lee, jennifer check, edward cullen, alice cullen, ella of frell, prince char, nefara de nile, and jade west

- his mom took him to to see a free, outdoors production of Romeo and Juliet when he was twelve and he really liked it. he hates reading, and the combination of dyslexia and shakespeare is interesting to say the least, but he woke up one night missing his mom a lot, and found a copy of the play on one of his siblings’ nightstands, and decided to try reading it for nostalgia’s sake. that lasted about ten minutes. kayla woke up at the crack of dawn to go practice archery alone and found him in the empty infirmary, where he went so he wouldn’t wake anyone up with his glowing, sound asleep in a chair with the book still open in his lap

- it’s easy to forget he’s from texas when you hear his voice after years of living at camp, but a soft southern drawl slips out when he says certain words, and especially when he sings

- his favorite taylor swift eras are debut, fearless, and lover

- he knows how to shoot a gun and has insane aim, much better than when he shoots a bow and arrow. because of this, he feels very strongly about mandating gun laws and safety regulations because he knows firsthand just how dangerous they are. nico has no idea and will’s just waiting for the moment he can surprise him with it

- he has perfect pitch and lowkey doesn’t even realize it

- his handwriting is so atrocious he can’t even read it himself. one time he enlisted nico to take notes for him in the infirmary, but nico’s cursive was almost harder to read than will’s chicken-scratches

- caffeine has almost no affect on him, except maybe spiking his anxiety, but he’s gaslit himself into thinking it keeps him alert

- he’s extremely empathetic, just knows how to put on a brave face

- he has literally no idea how to ask for help. my boy is so used to taking care of everyone that people have to literally beg him to let them help him with work or console him

- he desperately wants a cat

[sscieloz]

i would die for richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader okay? i have re-read it about 3 times today it’s so cute ajdjakfkakdkskdkkdn yn being an accidental sugar baby is everything to mr

now that I've lurked around my notes for a bit, I realized I actually have a few prompts for that lol, so why not share them right ˆˆ anyways:

richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader pt. 2

pt.1 | pt.2

Giselle was needy; her hands were often found on your waist or brushing your neck, not quite teasing— just touching your skin affectionately. You were hers, after all. She ached when you weren’t within her reach.

She did also love to tease, though. Whenever you were having lunch with her friend group in the massive cafeteria, she’d manage to slip a finger under your panties. Somedays you’d make it easier for her, wearing a short skirt and opening your legs at the mere brush of her long knuckles, allowing her to caress your folds as she continued her conversation with the girls, ever so casually.

On other days, though, when you were not in the mood for it, Giselle would huff, sending you annoyed glances as she unbuttoned your jeans with one hand, not even sparing you a glance as she fingered you just the same. Your sweet cunt was hers, and she’d take it whenever she pleased.

That being said, she needed you constantly. Which meant heavy make-out sessions in the hallways, pulling you from your classes so you’d eat her out in the restrooms, demanding you’d always stay somewhere she could see you… Giselle was demanding, but you didn’t mind. You knew how sweet and caring she could also be, whenever you were alone, and you’d never ask her to change her personality. She loved your calm, collected and quiet nature, so you loved her as she was just the same. You’d never ask her to change.

In fact, you couldn’t deny her possessiveness made you aroused, too. To be taken care of and adored by her, not only whenever you fucked, but with the smallest gestures, too. It made you melt, unable to deny her of whatever she wanted to take from you. You felt wanted, she made you feel wanted.

For that reason, you didn’t actually mind being her trophy pet. She was able to maintain her popular mean-girl image around campus as she pleased, for all you could care.

You end up spending even more time with her closest friends: Karina, Ningning and Winter. When they weren’t sending judgmental glares to anyone who crossed their way, they were actually very funny to be around. They cared about each other and were a tight-knit unit, you quickly noticed. The queen bees of your University, indeed.

Usually, you’d engaje on their playful banter, joking around and giggling as they joked. However, being beautiful, spoiled women, they knew nothing about limits, and would sometimes push your buttons too much. Whenever that happened, you were quick to whine to your girlfriend, making sure they’d stop it. Similar to when you were at one of their go-to cafes, right after you had lost an important game. “Come on, Y/n,” Karina said, poking your ribs as soon as she saw the pout on your face. “Don’t be boring like that just because your team fucking sucks.” “Yeah.” Minjeong agreed, focused on her milkshake. She didn't even spare you a glance, as she added. “I mean, don't you practice like every day and shit? Why are you all still so bad… This way, our University will never win any cool prizes.” Even though their words were harsh, you knew by their tone that they didn’t really mean it; they just liked to mess with you, as they did to everyone. You, however, were not having it. The defeat was still too recent for you to play it cool, so you shrank in your seat, turning away from them as you hid your face against your girlfriend’s neck. “Gigi, will you have your friends stop it, please?” You asked, voice cracking, even though you were trying your best not to cry. You’d rather not deal with them, so naturally, your Giselle would handle it— just like she did with anything else that bothered you. “Girls, shut the fuck up.” She commanded, tone imposing as she pulled you closer by the waist. You didn’t look at them, aware of the three girls rolling their eyes and muttering about how pussy whipped Giselle has become. They did stay silent, though, quickly diverting the topic to something else. And you felt the coziest as Giselle’s hands squeezed your waist, offering you reassurance.

She still loves to doll you up, too. There’s not a day when you’re not walking around campus with at least one piece of clothing she’d gotten you, lavish and stylish. You pretend not to notice the little whispers and glares whenever you pass by, reminding yourself that people will always find a reason to talk.

Since it makes Giselle happy, though, you gladly keep wearing her gifts, even if the looks you receive constantly leave you with the urge to run to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself until the end of the classes.

It’s one of the things pisses her off the most about you, too: you frequently forget to take a jacket or a hoodie to class, and it infuriates her to see you wearing Jinni’s when you meet at the cafeteria. “You look so much better wearing my jackets, though.” She murmured, hands finding their way into the insides of your shirt, in attempts to keep herself warm, too. “Come on, baby, take that ugly thing off… I can’t have you wearing that. Ning will let you use hers, instead. She’s never cold anyway.” You try to reason with her, but Ning is already handing her jacket to you, cursing Giselle under her breath. So you only shrug, sending Jinni an apologetic glance as you do as told. You just can’t help it— you’d do anything within reach to have Giselle give you that bright smile of hers.

Speaking of your friend, Giselle has come to terms with Jinni’s presence in your life. She no longer sends the younger girl death glares, or uses her influence around campus to have her benched in games. If only, Giselle’s become friendly, which terrifies Jinni even more. “She’s a menace, Y/n, I’m telling you. And she creeps me out, I’m sorry.” Jinni had told you, someday during practice break. Her words made you laugh, as you shove her playfully.

It was Karina’s idea, actually. Although Giselle knows not to trust her friend’s advice too much; Karina is down bad for any pretty girl near her radar. “Just be a little nice to her, or whatever.” The blonde girl had told Giselle, while critically examining her own nails. “Then have her keep an eye on Y/n for you. It’s not like you can be around her during practice, anyway. This way, you’ll know what’s going on.”

After that, Giselle has been an absolute sweetheart towards your friend, which warms up your heart. She waits patiently for you to go fetch her something, and then her attitude changes; her posture becomes straighter and her stare lacks the usual warmth it has, whenever you’re around. Jinni talks without much effort, blurting around any updates of unpleasant events that had happened during your previous practices, ones you refused to tell Giselle because you knew she’d make someone pay for things that are, usually, accidents. It has become part of her routine, to look out for you even when you refuse her help.

Her favorite thing is to wear your jersey during games. It pleases her deeply to have anyone know who their University’s star-player belongs to— As if she doesn’t make it a well-known fact, in your daily life.

Loves fucking you in the locker rooms, too, making you scream so all of your teammates are aware she owns you. She gets off having people trying to have a peek of you two fucking, too, although she’d never allow it.

At last, your relationship might not be completely understandable to those who are not close to either of you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way ˆˆ.

[fashionofcassiehoward]

Out of Touch (2x02)

Clips: [Also worn 2x01] Necklace: Altar'd State Dainty Monogram Necklace - C [Also worn (1x05), (1x07), (2x01), (2x03), (2x04), and (2x06)] Dress: House of CB Ella Dress [Also worn 2x01]

Shoes: Prada ‘Appliquéd Patent Leather Sandals’ [Also worn 2x01]

Top: UNIF Moss Top in Pink Jeans: Re/Done Levis High Rise Jeans in Indigo [Also worn 2x05]

Hair Bow:

Sunglasses: MISSONI MIS 0075/S RHL(9O) Necklace: Altar'd State Dainty Monogram Necklace - C [Also worn (1x05), (1x07), (2x01) (2x03), (2x04), and (2x06)] Bikini Top: Frankies Bikinis Gavin Ribbed Scoop Bikini Top in White Bikini Bottoms: Frankies Bikinis Gavin Ribbed Cheeky Bikini Bottom in White

Hospital Gown: Pink Hospital Gown

Jacket: John Galt Light Blue Arden Hoodie Necklace: Altar'd State Dainty Monogram Necklace - C [Also worn (1x05), (1x07), (2x01), (2x03), (2x04), (2x06)] Top: PacSun John Galt White & Blue Skylar Tank Top Jeans: Levis Wedgie Icon Jeans in Tango Light Backpack: BAG WIZARD Leather Backpack Purse Satchel School Bags Casual Travel Daypacks for Womens in White [Also Worn in Stuntin' Like My Daddy (1x02) and '03 Bonnie and Clyde (1x05)]

Shirt: White Tree T- Shirt Shorts: Soffe Knit Cheer Practice Shorts in Pink [Also worn in 2x04]

Necklace: Altar'd State Dainty Monogram Necklace - C [Also worn (1x05), (1x07), (2x01), (2x03), (2x04), and (2x06)] Bikini Top: 437 The Kenzie Top

Bikini Top: 437 The Kenzie Top Bikini Bottom:

Necklace: Altar'd State Dainty Monogram Necklace - C [Also worn (1x05), (1x07), (2x01), (2x03), (2x04), and (2x06)] Top: Bareminimale Yours Truly Crew Shorts:

Jacket: Fiorucci Angel Icon Hoodie Pants: Fiorucci co-ord icon angels straight leg trackies in dusty pink Shoes: UGG Classic Mini II Boot Womens

Cardigan: Dress: Reformation Humphrey Dress in Christina Shoes:

Top: WAYF Deena Off the Shoulder Rib Knit Crop Top

Top: Vanna Youngstein GOOD BYE BUTTERFLY PINK TANK TOP

[valyrra]

NAURETH // MK 9-11 timeline

Name: Naureth

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday: 23/03

MBTI: ISTP

Ethnicity: Netherrealmer (Scottish heritage)

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Tarot card: The Hanged man

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Appearance: Tall, hourglass shape figure, hip dips and strong arms and abs. May have skipped the leg day so her thighs aren't that muscular. Naureth has a "long" face structure, big eyes with dark eyelids and green iris with a small dotted pupil. Her nose is long and slightly crooked. Small and wide lips are often spread in a smirk or scowl.

Height: 178cm / 5,9 ft

Eye Color: Green, if she uses necromancy they glow with mint color. Later looses right eye.

Hair: Straight black, lower back length

Voice Claim: Diana (League of Legends)

Prominent Features: Her left arm and right leg are covered in black tattoos with asymmetrical patterns, missing right eye [picrew link]

Talents: Speaking with the dead ones, demon taming

Strengths: Loyal, practical, creative

Weakness: Private, reserved, reckless

Fears: Dying, Losing her pet, betrayal

Weapon: ✨magical✨ sword [picrew link]

Combat style: Sorcerer style combat. Tries to distance herself from the enemy, uses summoned flying swords and skeletons. If enemy is closed she fights with a sword.

Combat moves: [LINK]

Pets (?): Demon cat Moz [picrew link]

Casual clothing Style: Silk lower face mask, dark robes

Combat clothing style: Eyepatch. Chest armor that resembles skeleton ribs, long loincloth, over-knee boots, metal gauntlets and metal pauldrons [link1] [link2]

Friends: Shinnok, Sareena, Jataaka, Kia, Noob Saibot, Quan Chi

OC friends: Ombra and Falkus @theelderhazelnut + Lydia the Zatteran @esolean, Moz, Ghost

Rivals: Ongran (OC), later Raiden, Scorpion (Hanzo), Ashrah, "Good" forces

Love interest: Shinnok, Ermac

Short lore: Necromancer and a summoner with a split heart and stolen life time, adept of Shinnok.

Bio: Naureth comes from a secretive family of hereditary witches from medieval Europe who long ago found a connection to the Netherrealm. For decades, the women of the family fed their powers from there, in exchange for sacrifices and loyalty to demonic forces. They have, for the most part, kept their blood pure, remaining human. If necessary - they were infiltrated into politics and the church, at the behest of the Netherrealm demons and the current ruler.

Wanting to live longer than the rest of their family, the aging high witch of the cult - Ongran decided to sacrifice her granddaughter in order to get a longer life. Naureth was about seventeen years old at the time. She had inherited the ability to see the souls of the dead who had fallen in battles on Earthrealm. After performing a ritual, half of Naureth's heart was desiccated and forever chained to Netherrealm, transferring half of her life time to Ongran. Deeply hurt and maddened, Naureth decided to run away from her family, in search of greater powers, so she can get revenge on her Grandmother.

Fueled by rage, Naureth travelled the Netherrealm for 5 years. Looking for artifacts, trying to find anything that can fuel her powers, until she met Jataaka, who brought her into the Brotherhood of Shadows, where Naureth found her sorcery mentors.

After Naureth joins the Brotherhood of Shadows, she becomes a follower of Shinnok and apprentice to Quan Chi. After several years of training, she masters necromancy, decay magic, and undead mind control. When Shinnok decides she is ready, he sends her on a mission to dethrone Ongran as supreme witch, get revenge and lead the cult to serve him and Quan Chi.

With the help of Jataaka and Sareeena and Kia, Naureth kills the witch, but the life forces do not return to Naureth, leaving her with half of her life still shortened.

Dying, her grandmother remarks that she is proud of Naureth, but Naureth is outraged. The cult joins forces with Quan Chi's army, and she marches off to Shinnok.

Shinnok, says that only under his command will she be able to live longer, and bestows the black crown of Ongran, powers that can extend her life, making her life almost infinite as long as the crown is on her. Of course this was a lie, he could give her life back, as it was sealed in Netherrealm. Without knowing it, Naureth simply stays in the brotherhood. Quan Chi appoints her captain of the undead squad along with the witches from her cult.

Playlist: [link]

Inspirations: The Knight (DBD), Kel'Thuzad, Lich King and Death Knights (WoW), Mannimarco (TES), Bwonsamdi (WoW), Vergil, V (DMC), Kylo Ren (SW), Hela (Thor)

[bisolationist]

turns out that making sure the people im closest to r bi (and cutting off my biphobic frienfd) reduces my sexuality breakdowns to 0. now if i could bag a partner id truly have won

I'm always happy to hear this! Cultivating bi friendships is SO so important, and cutting out biphobia is definitely a must. Definitely with you on just needing to bag a partner lmao. I think you're the 5th or 6th ask that's explicitly said something along these lines that I've gotten through the iterations I've had of this blog, and I've heard it more casually I think probably a dozen times more. And like... yeah, of course it makes perfect sense to the point of being obvious. Of course doing something as simple as finding community and friendship + cutting out actively hateful people is very rewarding? But I want to take a moment to think about why so many bi people seem to just... not do this, or even think doing this would make them bad people. I think there's this pervasive sentiment that biphobia is categorically not serious - something deserved even - and thus we should be able to take it on the chin. IE that since we're privileged in a certain sense, we just shouldn't be affected by it at all. Thus, I think a lot of us end up thinking we just deserve disrespect, belittlement, and even harassment from people, even those close to us, as almost a form of penitence. I know I was definitely in that boat for years. It's not necessarily something that's always at the forefront, but often something subtle but pervasive and seemingly inescapable. Or at least that's what I've gotten from a lot of bi people I've talked to. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Genuinely asking. It's the same general thought as why say white people should be able to endure a bit of ribbing. But the fact is bisexual people are just not on the same level of privilege, cultural influence, or majority, and the things we're often ribbed about are not about our privilege but directly correspond to how we're oppressed too. Take how it plays out in GCblr - and how often it devolves into minimizing the experiences of bi women as just being "male worshipers", outright denials or belittlement of various statistics (poverty, SA, domestic violence, drug use, etc.), people throwing tantrums to say those statistics aren't unique so they don't mean anything (of course they're not unique. the results of oppression often look similar regardless of cause! but then why pretend bisexuals aren't oppressed?). Hell, people straight up that sexual harassment, rape jokes and SA-related mockery, being called dick worshipers, saying we're "playing the victim" if we talk about our abuse, and even nastier things. I think it happens much more obviously and without pretense online, but these things are happening online because the attitudes already exist IRL - people just dress it up and veil it a bit better. And I think we - bisexual people - are not stupid and do pick up on how people treat us or other bisexuals and their issues.

I'm really sorry for turning your short celebratory anon into an essay. I just think it's something that bears deeper thinking about because like... why are we as bisexuals so hesitant to do something that's so obvious to any other minority?

[nataliedcluca]

everybody, get in line to meet the girl who flew too high

basics

FULL NAME: Natalie Marie De Luca NICKNAME: Nat BIRTHDAY: July 27th (Leo) AGE: 35 SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual POSITIVE TRAITS: independent, competitive, open hearted NEGATIVE TRAITS: reckless, spoiled, easily distracted LENGTH OF TIME IN BRIARRIDGE: all her life minus college and a few years after where she traveled the world

appearance

HEIGHT: 5'7"; athletic build

HAIR: long dark brown

TATTOOS/SCARS: has two tattoos; one script on her rib cage and another on the back of her right shoulder

family

MOTHER: Nancy De Luca

FATHER: Angelo De Luca

SIBLING(S): enzo, three older brothers (enzo's posted wanted connection)

CHILDREN: n/a

PETS: small orange kitten named Binx

style

athletic clothes when she's not working

business casual when she's working or at work events

has been known to rock a pair of cowboy boots and jeans

living situation

lives in an apartment in DOWNTOWN

work

works as a reporter at the local news station

biography

TRIGGER WARNING:

Born and raised in Briar Ridge, Natalie De Luca is the youngest of three siblings, growing up surrounded by the playful chaos of her two older brothers. After losing her mother at a young age, her childhood memories of her are few, but the love and support from her family shaped her into the strong person she is today. Her father remarried when she was five, bringing her another brother, Enzo, who added to the family dynamic.

Her brother didn't approve of their step mother or new brother, something that soiled her relationship with both as Natalie kept her distance as she torn between her love for her father and for her brothers. They wanted to take a stand against the new marriage and son, but she was often the one caught in the middle being the youngest.

As the baby of the family, Natalie enjoyed a bit of indulgence, but it never spoiled her spirit. Instead, she channeled her energy into sports, discovering a passion for athletics early on. She was on many teams throughout her entire childhood to high school. If there was a sport in Briar Ridge, there was a good chance that Nat had a hand at it and was damn good at it too.

Softball because her first love.

This love for the game led her to earn a full ride softball scholarship to a university on the East Coast, where she thrived. Her junior and senior years were nothing short of exhilarating, culminating in a World Series victory in her final year.

After college, Natalie embraced adventure, traveling the world and soaking up new experiences. A self-proclaimed party girl at heart, she learned to balance fun with personal growth.

Eventually, she returned to Briar Ridge, eager to settle back into her roots. It was short-lived with her father's passing as the strain of all her brothers continued to put her in the middle, never taking a stand as she dealt with the loss as well as wanting to not lose anymore relationships with her family.

Now a sports reporter at the local news station, Natalie navigates the challenges of a male-dominated field with intelligence and tenacity. Though she may not have an actually tough exterior, her tomboy spirit and dedication to her craft shine through.

Passionate about inspiring others, she aims to uplift young women pursuing their dreams in sports and beyond, proving that with determination and grit, anything is possible.

wanted connections

girl squad

exes from high school / since returning

co-workers

party friends / friends that aren't afraid to get drunk on a weeknight and turn up at work the next morning

a fwb / hook up that knows there's no strings attached

a nemesis (professionally or not)

ex teammates / other sport fanatics because you know she's in all the fantasy sport leagues and down for a sunday spent at the bar

any other connections !!

[almostzanypanda]

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[luminescent-kin-help]

Fashion kit for Ashley Brown from Until Dawn with warm clothes/similar to in game plus a cute necklace as a little something extra! (Didn’t know if you wanted pants or shorts since you asked for warmer clothes so feel free to tell me if you want anything changed!!)

Jacket:

Pants:

Hat:

Shirt:

Gloves:

Necklace:

[77gigabytes]

Pickpocket {Finnick Odair x Reader}

Pickpocket! Reader x Finnick Odair

So this one's, suuuuuuper short 'cause I just need to get it out of my head.

I might go back and edit it when I get a better picture of it the whole scenario I want.

Also, I was meant to finish this up and the next one, like, 3 or 4 days ago, and post then...but then... I may or may not have gotten addicted to playing Sky: Children of the Light... maybe, just maybe

So I'm thinking...

Somehow, you've ended up as a maid for one of the Capitol families

You've got siblings back home in District 4 and you are their sole caretaker

Your parents passed away due to some sickness maybe?

"Y/N! We're leaving." You hear from the front of the house.

You scurry from the laundry room, wiping your hands on your apron and meet them at the door

"We won't be back until tomorrow night, I trust that you'll take care of the house."

Feet together, hands on top of one another on your stomach, shoulders back, head down.

Like clockwork.

Frankly, you're sick of it and if you succeed tonight, you'll never have to do it again.

You see their feet, and you can tell just from their shoes they're wearing something outrageous again.

"Farewell," You offer, "I'll see to it that everything is in order before your arrival tomorrow."

They hum and are filing out the door, which you gently shut after them.

❖· ────── · ·

You've been to these kinds of parties before.

You've accompanied the family you work for to be at their beck and call.

but this time, you're by yourself, and you have one objective tonight:

meet Finnick Odair, hopefully, seduce him enough to take whatever valuables you can, and then leave

You know how to act - how to blend in and also how to disappear

Though this dress is making it difficult to do anything

it's a deep blue at the bottom and transitions into a beige colour at the top

It's poking in the wrong places, a little too tight at the ribs. Luckily the skirt is flowy

You fiddle with the long mesh sleeves. From the cuffs, it has leaves embroidered all the way up to your collarbones, down your cleavage and to the middle of your torso

You're regretting coming now because you don't see the bronze-haired, green-eyed adonis everyone has been buzzing about, men and women alike.

You huff and make your way to the bar. You give a wave of your hand to the bartender, "Anything will do." you say and he promptly begins to make you a drink.

You sit on the stool, legs crossed and your nose scrunched at the mismatching perfumes suffused in the air

I need to find someone who knows the president... You look around the room but close your eyes quickly and turn back to the bar with how glaringly they dress

If I get an... appointment with, with Finnick for tomorrow morning, I can take whatever valuables and sell them off before they return...

You've stolen before...Food mostly, but when you're in the capitol you've pinched some wallets here and there, some necklaces and bracelets too.

You've already got a few stashed away in your purse.

You sigh, who the hell in here can I talk to?! I can't just bring it up casually.

You totally could, these Capitol people are crazy

As you stew in your thoughts, you close your eyes and your thoughts shift to your siblings. Most of them weren't your siblings by blood, but they might as well be. Poor things, orphaned so young.

"What's a lovely lady like you doing alone, all the way here?"

Your head whips to the voice so quickly you think you might've heard a crack.

Before you, stands Finnick Odair, himself.

BINGO! JACKPOT! Yahtzee! Whatever! What freakin' luck!

But now, it's time to put on a show.

You give him a quick once over, spotting a necklace and ring on his pointer finger

You put on a small smirk and look at him through half-lidded eyes, "And what's a handsome man like yourself doing? Coming over here to a lonely lady like me." You purr and turn your gaze to the various drinks on the shelves of the bar.

He chuckles, "Well," He starts and takes the seat next to you, "I thought that the dress you have on looks a lot like the beach. It's beautiful."

Your eyes flick up to his, not expecting that reply, but you shake your head, I have other things to worry about. Get in and then get out, you remind yourself

"Have you ever been?" He runs his fingers through his curls, "To the beach, I mean."

"Perhaps," you reply without missing a beat.

"How secretive." He sends you a smug smirk.

"We all have secrets, don't we?" You turn to him, switching your crossed legs and drawing attention to them, "And from what I heard," You reach out and fiddle with the smooth fabric of the lapels on his suit, "You like to keep secrets."

You stand up from your seat and take a few steps so that your shoulders brush against his, "And I've got many to tell." you whisper near his ear

It wasn't entirely wrong. Working as a maid for a Capitol family, you've overheard your fair share of secrets.

You found that the Capitol citizens were quite loose-lipped.

But you didn't have much use for those secrets, nor did you have anyone to share them with.

Now you do... if he followed you out, that is.

❖· ────── · ·

I really don't know if I like this one as much, but it was just something that came up in my head when I was writing my Finnick x OC fanfic

I pretty much wrote my OC's entire hunger games, mate,

so, please look forward to that instead haha ≧◡≦, although I'm still in the more final stages of planning to make sure everything correlates so it'll be a loooong while.

Have an amazing day!

Seven, Signing off :3

[self-loving-vampire]

Some clothing-based kinks:

First off, I think clothed sex is significantly better, partly because I think people look a lot better when clothed. Clothing is a really cool tool that allows you to individualize your appearance and express yourself.

Anyway, I'd still consider clothed sex to be more of a preference than a kink in itself if that makes sense. On to the list.

I think stockings, pantyhose, and other fancy socks like that (in solid black or white colors specifically) score pretty high based on my love for thighs alone. While I have done footjobs before I wouldn't consider myself much of a feet person, but I do love some soft, smooth legs in general. Good for intercrural. 8/10.

Tight bike shorts are also really good, whether it's by themselves or under a skirt. They're kind of exposed while also not. You could easily get pressed and licked through them. 8/10.

At home I often wear stuff more along the lines of white tank tops with shorts or oversized white shirts with just underwear. Definitely like how those outfits come out and I recommend trying it out (no bra). 9/10.

I like stereotypical maid outfits but I see them more as "cool" rather than "hot", and having grown up with actual maids I see those as just normal people, completely different from the cold and obedient assassin maids you see in some shows. Still, I do like those types of characters so maybe 7/10.

Ribbed sweaters are kind of inexplicably good to me. They're a 7/10 but I don't really understand why. Maybe they just go well with some of my other outfits, or maybe it has to do with the kinds of characters people often draw in them making me associate those sweaters with big titty MILFs. I don't know.

By the way, most of the time when I go out I dress very casually and simply, with a comfortable shirt and pants. I also wear a hooded cloak or a lab coat. Pants are my baseline and I appreciate them a lot, but I don't actually kink on them besides getting some perverse pleasure out of the fact that some christian fascists think it's evil and tempting for women to wear them. Never really been the dresses and skirts type myself (though I'd still wear one if it looked cool and vampiric enough).

I think this might be related to why for a lot of the more revealing/clearly fetish-based outfits I'm only meaningfully into them if they are tied to forced clotheswearing kink.

For example, a character in a swimsuit is often just "Okay, kind of nice I guess" but a character having no choice but to wear a swimsuit while blushing and uncomfortable the entire time is a lot more appealing and emotionally interesting.

Especially good if the character is the type that is usually very proud but also reserved, now being made to wear something they find kind of humiliating and damaging to their grand image. Fun.

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

rest in peace (and give yourself to harmony)

Summary: Alex had been gone for days with no contact. Complete radio silence.

And Michael hadn’t been worried. Of course not. No, he definitely hadn’t been spiralling out, staring at his phone like a lovesick teenager begging it to ring.

Only, when it had rung — when the wrong Manes man had flashed up on the screen — his heart had sunk.

-

Major Character Death. Based on Jeanine Mason’s season 3 Malex pic.

Word Count: 1,903

[Also on AO3]

Michael’s footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. 

The late hour could easily have been blamed for the lack of personnel around, but the Air Force never slept. Alex had taught him that much. The late-night calls, the too-early mornings. He’d practically begged Alex to swap his job to one that more closely matched Michael’s sleep schedule.

As if that was the real reason he had wanted him out of the military life.

The harsh white lights flickered overhead as they paved his way and he almost wished one of the many doors he passed would suddenly swing open to reveal an angry sergeant or maybe a swarm of new recruits who could see clearly through his pitiful charade. Just someone eager to drag the imposter off their highly classified base.

Anything to delay what he had come all this way for.

It felt wrong, donning the uniform again, the camo doing little to disguise how out of place he felt in a building full of soldiers. The bold-lettered Reese was still stitched into his name badge—a character he was having to play, yet again, if they wanted their jailbreak to work.

And there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t, the circumstances were virtually indistinguishable if you squinted hard enough.

It had almost been a game last time. He and Isobel playing dress up as they joined Alex in their carefully constructed three-man performance. With no lines to rehearse, his presence alone had been enough to fool the poor women on the hospital’s reception desk into releasing a comatose Maria into their care.

Comatose, not—

As he turned the corner—head peering around first to check for any unwanted company—he spotted it. The room that the lieutenant at the front gate had directed him to after Isobel had successfully mindscaped her unsuspecting brain.

The door was heavier than he expected and the click it made as it shut behind him was barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears. The familiar, unwelcome ache crept back into his chest and he rubbed his knuckles roughly down his sternum, the action so forceful he was practically tracing the ridges of his ribs.

It wouldn’t work though. It wouldn’t make it disappear. The pain that had been clawing at his insides since the phone call.

He looked down at the hand still white knuckling the door handle. Maybe if he stayed holding on, he wouldn’t have to turn around. In fact, maybe he could just walk straight back through the door and declare it all one huge mistake.

Maybe Greg had gotten it all wrong.

The whole mission had been as shady and secretive as usual, Alex being called away at short notice with practically no details provided. And though he could never normally reveal the specifics of his work, this time it had felt different. 

He had been gone for days with no contact. Complete radio silence.

And Michael hadn’t been worried. Of course not. No, he definitely hadn’t been spiralling out, staring at his phone like a lovesick teenager begging it to ring. 

Only, when it had rung — when the wrong Manes man had flashed up on the screen — his heart had sunk. 

There hadn’t been any real reason for his hand to shake as he answered the call. They might not be on casual texting terms, but it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Alex’s brother to get in contact. Greg was just as involved in the alien situation as the rest of his friends and with his unfortunate upbringing he probably knew more than he had ever really wanted to begin with.

But part of him, the always on alert when it comes to Alex part of him knew he was going to regret praying for the phone to ring.

When silence had greeted him at first. When faint sniffles could be heard down the line instead of anything remotely useful.

When Greg had finally found the words to tell him that—

It should probably have worried him how easily the time had blurred between the phone slipping through his fingers and his friends gathering in their living room to formulate a plan.

As Alex’s emergency contact, Greg had been the first to receive the news. And with the added bonus of being an ex-service member, it had also meant he was the most likely to cut through the bureaucratic red tape that neatly tied up the Air Force’s secrets and track down his brother’s location. From then it had taken twenty-four hours, a trip to the Project Shepard bunker, several desperate phone calls and a mindscape from Isobel to get Michael into the room he currently stood in.

Now all he had to do was turn around.

His fingers loosened their grip around the handle before he could talk himself out of it and slowly, he turned away from where he was facing the door. He barely made it all the way around as the sight in his periphery was enough for a whimper of despair to be drawn from his lips. 

His hand clutched his stomach as any semblance of breath was knocked from him in an instant, a wave of grief so powerful striking him square in the chest. His shoulders hunched as his body forced itself forward, any strength he had left sucked straight from him, his other hand grasping at his knee the only thing keeping him upright. 

It was a clinical room. A makeshift morgue of sorts with its science equipment and pale walls devoid of all life. There were three tables spaced out evenly along the centre of the room, two of them empty but the third—

The third held the body of Captain Alexander Manes of the United States Air Force, still proudly dressed in a uniform that mirrored Michael’s own, face pale as he lay silently and so, so still, so—

Dead.

Michael let out a slow breath through pursed lips as he mustered up the strength to move closer. The sight alone made him lightheaded, like his brain refused to register what was right in front of him. One final attempt at denying reality. 

But his heart knew the truth, drawing him closer as it loathed to be apart from its other half for a second longer. Even if its counterpart had long stopped beating.

Raking his eyes over Alex’s body, he took in every inch of him as if seeing him for the first time. The way the soft hair that Michael loved to run his fingers through rested against the table, leftover gel still clinging to some of the strands, the way his long lashes fanned out over closed eyelids, the way his hands lay unmoving by his side.

There was no sign of injury— no sign of anything to explain how the love of his life had ended up cold and lifeless and alone in a top-secret Air Force base. Greg had been unsuccessful at pulling any more information from those that knew the truth, their only response being that the nature of the death would delay the release of his body. And seeing him now was enough to prove to Michael what they had all suspected, that something suspicious, something alien, had occurred and Alex had paid the ultimate price.

No bruises marring his skin, no blood staining his uniform, it was almost enough for Michael to fool himself into believing that he was simply sleeping. That Michael could kiss him awake and everything would be okay.

And in a way that was worse. 

Because his heart did know the truth and he could feel it splintering within his rib cage, its shards piercing his insides with every breath.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. And it wasn’t fair.

After all the wasted years, the long unnecessary dance of denial between them, they had finally gained the courage to admit what they had both known all along. The courage to open up their hearts to each other. To allow themselves to be happy.

And without warning, that had been snatched from their grasp. Because of the Air Force, again.

Four days ago, Alex had kissed him goodbye with a promise to be back soon. And now here he was, lying in front of him, there but not there. 

A stifled sob pushed past the lump in his throat and the world blurred around him as the tears pooling in his eyes threatened to spill over. Ever since the damn phone call, a tiny desperate part of him had stayed in denial, locking a sliver of hope away in his heart as he begged the universe to have made a terrible mistake. But there was no denying this.

Taking a shaky breath, he bent down closer to Alex. Hands cupping either side of his head, thumbs hovering just over his ears, Michael’s eyes squeezed shut as he placed a gentle kiss atop Alex’s forehead. The action was so familiar yet so hauntingly far away from normal, the cold skin beneath his lips solidifying the truth.

The sudden opening of the door broke through the silence of the room and had him jumping back with a gasp. The sight of the intruder enough to calm his racing heart, his hand came up to thumb away the few tears that had escaped.

“Hey, are you ready to—” Isobel started before the remainder of the sentence caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as if she’d forgotten what awaited her in that room.

She swallowed hard as she approached, her eyes not straying from Alex even as she gathered her brother into a hug, her arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. He relished the warmth of her touch and the contact was enough to bring everything crashing down. The tears ran freely and without restraint as he wept into the collar of her uniform, his shoulders shuddering with each sharp inhale and in that moment, he couldn’t focus on anything but the agony that was hell-bent on consuming him alive. 

To her credit, Isobel didn’t say a word, her palm rubbing a soothing up-and-down motion into his spine until he was ready to pull away. Even then, she didn’t let him move far, her hands gently cupping his face. 

“He’s gonna be okay.” She whispered reassuringly and the conviction in her voice was almost enough to have him believing it. Their plan was half-baked at best and they had zero proof that it was going to work, but their alternative was— 

Well, the alternative was that Alex stayed as he was and that wasn’t an option.

It was going to work. And he was going to be okay. And they really needed to leave before someone caught them.

Michael moved to the cupboards at the back of the room and rummaged through until he found what he was searching for. The white sheet fit perfectly as he placed it gently over Alex’s body and he swallowed down the sickness that settled in his stomach at the sight of his boyfriend’s outline under the material.

He kicked up the lock keeping the table’s wheels in place, and the pair set off before they could be stopped. Back through the secret military base, back to their car sitting just outside the compound and back to the waiting team of self-appointed alien scientists ready to bring Alex Manes back to life. 

[willowwrestles]

To say Willow was floored would be the understatement of the century. What is with women in wrestling (herself included)? Smart, tough, ambitious, and goal driven young women betrayed by their own sexual desires to sleep with inappropriate lesser men.

First Willow with Max and now Masha with Dante Drago of all people? What sort of nightmarish hellscape was this? Willow had outright refused to believe Alec about Masha and Dante. It was far too weird. Masha could eat him alive.

Yet she's sleeping with him! Not that Willow was one to talk. Once you've slept with Max Caster and been Alec Price's "other woman". You lose out on your judgement bid. Still she could give a side eye. Especially over dinner which was set to happen in twenty minutes.

Willow wanted to get down to the bottom of this even though Alec told her not to. So, she invited Masha over under the guise of a short rib/vegan short rib dinner. But mostly it was to extract information.

Hopefully Masha doesn't kill her. Willow had just been setting the table when there was a ringing of the doorbell.

"Coming!" Willow calls out before racing to the door. She opens to reveal Masha on the other side.

"Mash! Come inside!"  Willow grins. Excuse Masha for not believing Willow's altruism. A short rib dinner? Just casually on a Friday night? Spare her. You don't just pull up to Alec and Willow's fancy little Beacon Hill brownstone for just anything.

Especially not casual dinner. No, something has been said here and Masha knew what it was. Alec had told Willow about Masha sleeping with Dante. Which was so out of line. And why? Because Alec just assumes she likes him.

All because Alec called Dante a drunk idiot and Masha told him not to. It was such a dumb thing to get all bent out of shape about. Dante was actually really cool to be around. Obviously, she's not gonna let him be called names.

And once again SHE DOESN'T LIKE HIM LIKE THAT! She has Akira and she's perfectly happy. So whatever these two jokers are about to do is futile. Masha pulls up to Alec and Willow's place. Every time she comes here she's so surprised it's theirs.

It just seems so unlike them until she walks inside. Masha knocks on the door and is greeted with Willow's smiling looking like the perfect housewife. "Hey, Will." Masha replies before she's whisked away. "Babe, Masha's here." Masha hears Willow say before turning to her.

"Dinner is almost ready. Can I get you anything to drink?" Willow asks. "Got Vodka?" She asks. Willow nods. "Vodka soda." Masha replies. Willow nods and goes to make her one. Meanwhile, Masha walks further in the house.

The first person she sees is Alec cuddled up with their dog Luna. "You've got a lot of nerve." Masha calls out to him.

@thenortheastbeast

[chic-cheapcom]

Real Essentials 3 Pack: Women's Ribbed Knit Short-Sleeve V-Neck Swing T-Shirt Casual Dress (Available in Plus)