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#I have so much brain rot for them it’s not funny
buff-muffin · 8 months
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Totem time! It was about time I draw these freaks of nature.
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therooknook · 2 years
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Typical Parisian behavior
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helenofblackthorns · 11 months
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this is so funny like "we're friendly with him yes" from someone who could probably portal directly into one of the most powerful living warlock's apartment at this exact moment if she wanted to. she could probably take his kids and he wouldn't really care as long as she promised to bring them back in one piece at some point lmao
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devilfish-landing · 1 year
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Pittyober Prompt 8: Mask
we are just husks seeking
the world's false graces
~~~
goodness gracious i have had NO time for any actual pieces ever since the last one. maybe for the better i need to recover because there's some prompts coming up that i'm REAL excited for,,, but alas you just get scanned pen doodles for now
way before this month i actually had ideas for an armada OC (surprised i went this long without making one, tbh) that was, for whatever reason, not tied to the armada at all and was just off doing their own thing, either being unaware of their affiliation (which is what i ultimately went with for this fellow) or renouncing it entirely.
this guy just kinda wrote themself as i was concepting them because i tried to cover a mistake on the mask and was like "oh wait i could just put a really big hole there. hm" so what i've ended up with is a former marine (kind of, i based their first outfit on the in-game marines) that, somehow, got so busted up that they don't even realize they're a machine, and are now just trying to... live life, i guess. i dunno. i really like how they came out though. even if that first outfit was a nightmare to draw abhjgebjheg
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floralovebot · 2 years
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@redemptionarcsucker
NO CAUSE LITERALLY HELIA IS ANYTHING BUT THE POET
I know it would be really easy to assume that Helia is a poet, most obviously due to him actually being a literal poet and yknow. writing poems. Add on that he is genuinely good with his words and it's like! Duh! BUT NO!! A huge part of his character is that he wants to be the poet but he isn't. Helia acts like a poet. He makes a great first impression, he watches people carefully and responds in whatever way will move the situation best, he can be bitterly truthful and secretive all at once. But while that is still part of him, it's also so, so small in comparison to how he feels inside and how he actually acts.
While I have pondered Helia being the soldier, I gravitate much more toward the King. The king archetype is all about the responsibility that you don't want, that you don't deserve, but still feeling so loyal to it that you can't get away. No matter what they truly want in life, the kings will always go back to that responsibility because it's become them, and leaving literally feels like part of them is gone. They believe they have an intense duty to that responsibility and that leaving would make them the worst person in the world. And like,,, anyone with Helia Brain knows that this is him!! It's everything he feels about Red Fountain!!
Being the poet is all about embracing freedom and that's the one thing Helia refuses to do. He can't do it. He feels so intensely loyal to Red Fountain, and now to his friends, that any other option feels like betrayal to him. His own freedom feels like a betrayal. And that's just such a sad king move,,,
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zevrans-remade · 2 years
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nohriantomatoes · 3 months
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Yea I'm vagueblogging but I blocked the person this is about
dear god I forgot how chronically online some people can be
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undertheorangetree · 4 months
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Tantrum
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Summary- Art’s girlfriend sucks at tennis. He helps her feel better.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Stanford era Art. Exhibitionism. Body worship. Cunnilingus. Wee bit of fingering. P in V sex. Riding. The fluffiest giggliest sex you've ever seen. Me not knowing a damn thing about tennis.
Author's Note- Hi idk if you noticed but i have Challengers brain rot rn specifically for Art Donaldson :// As a theatre kid I simply had no choice it was always gonna be him. Read the full fic on AO3.
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When Art had looked up at her with big pleading eyes, all but begging her to allow him to teach her the basics of tennis, she was in no position to refuse. It had been sweet, how badly he wanted to share his passion with her, the kisses he had peppered across her neck and chest in order to entice her into it, and she couldn’t so much as imagine denying him. Forget the fact that she had never held a racket in her life, that her strengths had always been rooted in academia rather than athletics.  If allowing him to teach her would make him happy, she would do it.
Though not without complaint.
She lets out a frustrated grunt as the ball hits the net- again- before turning her head up to glare at Art when he barely manages to stifle his laugh. He smothers it immediately when he catches sight of her glower, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as if he can physically wipe away his smile and she feels her teeth grind together.
“You can’t laugh. You’re the one who wanted me to do this so you’re not allowed to make fun of me,” she complains, her voice half petulance half hurt and immediately his face morphs into something more apologetic.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes his way closer but she simply rolls her eyes, turning her nose up when he reaches out to her. He takes it in stride. “I’m not laughing at you, you’re doing very well. It’s just funny to see you so frustrated.”
It’s her turn to laugh, though it is little more than a humourless bark. “I am not doing very well. I suck.”
He makes a sympathetic noise as he attempts to reach for her again. She allows it begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as his hands close around her elbows, face dropping into her neck to press a kiss there. She thinks that he’s about to praise her further, try to coax her back into committing herself to the game, but he stays silent, continuing to lavish her with silent kisses.
She’s happy for the odd hour they decided to come here, the tennis court completely devoid of any other life. It’s a colder night than it should be for mid spring, the floodlights and moon the only two things to provide them with any light, and she’s grateful finals have chased everyone else away. She’s glad to have this time alone with him, despite her frustration. To feel like they are the only two people in the world.
“You’re just hitting the ball too hard,” he explains, face still half buried in her throat. “And you aren’t even attempting to aim. Putting everything you have behind the hit doesn’t make it a good one if you don’t know where you’re sending it. There’s more to tennis than just force, you have to be smart about it.”
She scoffs, reaching up to press her palm against his forehead and shove him away, ignoring the shit eating grin that’s made itself known on his face. “Just go over there and hit the damn ball. Before I leave you here by yourself.”
The grin doesn’t fade, his amusement more than clear, but he does as she asks, returning to his side of the court. She lets out another aggravated sigh as she returns to the position he had told her to wait in, knees bent as she waits for him to serve, realizing more and more that she prefers to watch him play tennis rather than do it with him. She finds far more joy watching him from the stands as he chases after the ball, sweat dripping from his curls and grunts echoing in her ears. Here, where she is the one chasing the ball like a damn dog and failing to send it sailing over the net when she does manage to catch it, there is no time to admire Art in his element.
She almost feels bad for her poor attitude, wishing she was less competitive so that she could simply enjoy this quality time with him, but every failure does nothing but enrage her further, sending her spiralling further into frustration.
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Read the rest here :)
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jyoongim · 7 months
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Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!
This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!
⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!
—————————————————————————————
No one suspected a thing.
You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.
Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”
And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.
Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.
Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.
————————————————————————————
You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!
Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.
At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it
But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.
Especially Alastor.
Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.
Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.
A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.
Vox.
You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”
”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.
You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 
You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”
Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 
Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.
You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”
The phone call ended and you were in tears.
You didn’t want to go back. 
You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 
You liked the friends you had made here.
You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.
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“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.
You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.
You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.
”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”
You fiddled with your hands.
”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”
Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.
”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”
You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.
Of Vox and his plan.
The deal between you and Vox.
The reason you came to the hotel.
Everything.
”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!
Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.
Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.
The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.
His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.
 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.
And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.
However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.
You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.
”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.
”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him
He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”
You wiped at your eyes “how so?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.
He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 
He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.
”I know just the thing hehehe”
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You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.
“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.
Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.
”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.
Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.
”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.
“I know you will baby” 
He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.
Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.
”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 
“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”
His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.
You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.
”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.
Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.
”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.
”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”
Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.
The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 
“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”
Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.
Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.
In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.
Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.
Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.
”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”
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monzabee · 7 months
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pon de replay - cl16 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 
Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.
So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.
It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.
“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.
“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.
“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”
If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”
Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.
He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”
That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.
“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.
Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.
“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.
So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”
His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”
If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.
And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”
This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.
“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”
“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.
And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”
Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”
“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”
“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”
And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.
So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”
You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.
“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.
He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”
“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”
“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.
The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.
Or so you’ve thought.
Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”
“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”
You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”
That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.
“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   
“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.
“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.
So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”
“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”
“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”
“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”
“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.
That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.
“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”
And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.
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ozzgin · 1 month
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Some more dick-related brain rot…😘
We take the self serve dick bar and use monsters for the monster hotel. We are going to have that full “continental breakfast.” So we have a forest entity cumming maple syrup, a Minotaur cumming milk/creme, a yeti who cums slushies, a slime who cums various jams depending on whatever fruit we feed it, and any more monsters who we can utilize ☺️
When you were talking about your rats, it made me think of some rat-hybrid monster where reader can steer him via. his dick, like a reverse Ratatouille scenario 🐀
Having a robot/android partner, I could use his dick as a literal joy stick when playing video games. Also, if I have to charge robot/android, do you think his dick acts like a giant extension cord I could just plug into the outlet in the wall? Also does that mean he technically “eats” with his dick? I assume when traveling with him internationally, I gotta get a lot of compatible adapters so he can get plugged in successfully🕹️
A Hydra monster would be kinda funny to have sex with, cause maybe if you cut its “head” down south, two more will grow back 🤔
I think that’s all for now. Tell your man that he is very much appreciated, and it’s nice he’s in this club of debauchery 😉
-👘
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This amount of thirst and depravity is exactly what the monster guests would come up with just to have Reader employee touch them. 😭 Content: gender neutral reader, rancid NSFW!!! (more white sauce I’m afraid), monster smut
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The latest fad your centaur manager has been into is food cooked with bodily fluids. This has had several implications, all of them regrettably involving you.
While the idea has been gripping at his mind like a great plague, he can't possibly ask you to just...let go over his breakfast toast. He can already see how exhausted you return after being used by the starved guests. They stuff you just enough for you to wonder if you'll survive it, then make sure to clean up their mess, politely aiding your speedy recovery, almost as if they weren't the cause of destruction to begin with. The manager has heard it one too many times that your nether regions are numb from all the monstrous tongues and appendages.
Maybe a change of scenery will help.
"Kitchen staff? I thought I'm supposed to clean the rooms", you inquire, somewhat confused by the sudden proposal.
"It's not quite...kitchen duties, per se. We need someone to help with the hotel's breakfast. We have a new experimental menu, though not enough...hands."
You should've expected it. How bad could it possibly be, you told yourself, pouring some orange juice for the seated guests? You had your first suspicions from the big, flashy sign now propped outside the room: service provided by our esteemed and loved human employee. You didn't need to ponder much on its meaning. Once inside, your task became painfully clear. You were to milk the guests for the required ingredients.
Having their way with you is a treat in itself, but seeing you struggle with your small, human hands, trying to figure them out? Priceless. Well, for them, anyways. Despite your protests, you have left your morning shifts with a ridiculous number of tips. Maybe it's the way you look up through your lashes as you explain: "Of course I know your weak spot. You're one of my- our regulars." Or maybe it's the way you tease your favorites, wondering out loud, with a grin, if you should have some of the generous release for your own lunch later.
Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. The centaur head manager recently made the sheepish suggestion of having you at the receiving end of this new service, trying his best to sound convincing, and hiding the fact it’s been his most ardent wish for the past couple of weeks. Maybe he will get his breakfast topping, after all.
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[Monster Hotel] | [More Monsters]
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blue-the-bluest · 2 months
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JUNE 6TH | OLD
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AUGUST 7TH | NEW
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I wanted this to be a small opportunity to make “Redeemed Bradley” a thing because I don’t see it as much… so I redrew it for funnies
Basically Redeemed Bradley happens wayyyy after the X Games, casted out and left to rot by himself before Max came back into the light.
Both talked it out and settled on being “friends” under one condition. Be yourself and honest. And no arguments and deals, but that’s out of the window
Bradley always has been himself but not totally, shutting out his own problems and not being completely in terms of his sexuality, being gay.
He never had time nor patience to fully figure himself out throughly, his parents and fans shoved his fake personality into his brain, thinking he’s already perfect. But Max opened his eyes to see that he isn’t perfect nor is himself at all.
The stress overwhelmed Bradley to the point where he almost cried in front of the Goof Troop. Even being the most unserious group to ever exist in man-kind, they knew that this “be yourself” stuff is overwhelming their new friend.
All four, again, have a conversation about Bradley, and as much as he hates heartfelt conversations, he knew he needed to hear it.
“We can go step by step, till you are fully fit to yourself.”
And as they said, Bradley just does that and everything runs smoothly.
No more snarls and death threats or deals and harmful pranks.
Bradley was feeling himself, all free of the pressure and fears. And he has never felt more happier than that.
But one problem kept crawling back to him, his gay problem. Not that it’s bad or anything but he has caught feelings for Max Goof, the same man helping him find his new and improved self.
Bradley knew he had to be honest and himself, it was the friendship condition both men agreed apon.
He tried to show Max about it, still afraid he’ll reject him but he still tried everything!
Having a bracelet same color as Max’s eyes.
Wearing matching earrings.
Even allowing Max to be close to him as possible.
But Max is too oblivious of the signs, and kept friend-zoning the poor boy… Will Max accept Bradley for who he is and love him as well? Or will he reject him for the greater good?
Who knows…
I’m so normal about them and yes, long haired Max supremacy 🛐
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choccorin · 2 months
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one bed | ft. rin
tags. fluff , itoshi rin x gn!reader, self indulgent
a/n. rin brain rot is real. i wrote this at 3 am so expect errors !! <3
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rin had managed to get a one week break from his work — because his coach forced him to, saying that he was working too much and that he should rest — and what better way to spend a week off than going to a resort with his lovely partner.
you booked a room at this beautiful resort to spend time together and while booking, rin says that the room must have two beds. you’ve been dating for a couple of months now, but haven't slept on the same bed before. that’s because rin is still shy around you, even if he doesn't show it — his reactions are always obvious. and that he’s not really the physical touch guy.
when the two of you arrive at the scheduled date, the receptionist tells you that there was a mistake in their system and that your booked room was accidentally given to someone else. they also couldn't take the room back because the customer came in a day before you. you look at rin who looks absolutely pissed, his face didn't change much but his eyes express everything. before he speaks, you cut him off,
“i’ll handle this, rin.” you smiled, gently squeezing on his left arm, giving him assurance.
he scoffs, “hmph. fine.”
while rin stands on a side of the counter, slightly frowning, you converse with the receptionist, asking if there are any rooms available. yes, they respond. but there was one issue.
——————
“one bed. there’s only one bed.” rin glares at the perfectly prepared bed with swan towels. he looks so displeased that it actually shows on his whole face, and his cheeks have that slight tint of pink, you giggle at the sight.
“ha? what’s so funny?!” he looks at you, flustered and confused.
“you just look so cute when you’re flustered, rin.” you try to stifle your giggles.
while giggling, the vast sea caughts your eye. you daze at how beautiful it looks from your room floor, you’re so focused that you don’t notice your boyfriend admiring you with a soft smile planted on his face.
rin would’ve rushed to the receptionist to change the rooms if you didn't look so perfect right now.
——————
since the two of you got here early, you both decided to have some fun at the beach and explore the resort as well. you were glad thar there weren't many people that recognized rin, or maybe they just respected his private life, either way you were happy that your boyfriend finally got to relax after training for weeks.
once you get back to the hotel, the problem hits you right after entering the room. both of you had so much fun that you both forgot that you were going to share the bed tonight, and also for the whole week.
rin suggests that he should just sleep on the couch with you immediately decline. what kind of girlfriend are you if you let your professional athlete boyfriend sleep on a couch that he could barely even lay on down, right?
you suggest that you sleep on the floor which he also, immediately declines. you’re now out of options, so you just decide to sleep on the same bed.
rin laid down far from you that almost feel offended, his back is facing you too, he really doesn't want to sleep on the same bed huh.
you went to ask on how he’s doing so you flip him to his back side and to your surprise, he’s absolutely flushed, red as a tomato, he’s so flustered that it’s out of character.
you knew he was shy on sleeping on the same bed but wasn't this too much?! he’s so red that your afraid he might pass out so you calm him down by holding his hands, giving them a few tight squeezes.
you're both now facing each other, making little talks here and there, you can tell that he’s still tense so you keep holding his hands until you both doze off, succumbing to sleep.
——————
when you wake up next morning, you’re surprised to see that you’re laying on top of him, on his chest. his arms are holding you tight which you know you have zero chances of escaping, so you just admire your boyfriend instead. you always adore how peaceful rin looks compared to how he usually is, his body is warm and his arms are comforting to be in. this is the first time this has happened so you might as well savor it to your hearts’ content.
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seireitonin · 6 months
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Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??
(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)
Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)
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What would it be like dating Toby?
Toby’s life is filled with tragedy
Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman
It’s all bad
So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go
He’ll do anything for you
I mean to the point it’s unhealthy
Because hes obsessed with you
Like really obsessed with you
He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded
That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out
He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings
They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it
Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection
If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering
His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness
Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills
He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too
So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful
And he might try to call you sensitive for it too
“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”
He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions
It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing
He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general
Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip
He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions
He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)
He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile
Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay
He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it
Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail
He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute
Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better
Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him
He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that
He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor
He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s
If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them
Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering
Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile
He does it all for you. Everything is for you.
“You know I love you, right?”
He looks at you covered in blood
Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters
He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him
He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession
He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you
Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it
He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field
Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack
You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one
Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself
He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did
He’s never letting you go
He didn’t know he could feel love this intense
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miupow · 7 months
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⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]
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☆〜(ゝ。∂)txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships
⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .
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연준 YEONJUN
i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol
soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now
likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?
tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time
pls take care of him :(
finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33
cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("
수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃
the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours
"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."
probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<
soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit
high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny
"why are you laughing at me??? :(("
gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day
“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”
will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”
“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”
범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃
true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay
he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?
put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights
just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit
you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober
he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him
says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb
he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<
let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes
again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny
“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much
태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃
this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them
i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night
big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you
i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything
normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"
very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you
thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots
he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up
휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃
i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.
he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,
he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe
kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles
spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;
like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<
will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy
SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly
goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours
TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;
thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it
515 notes · View notes
zeltqz · 1 year
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— ✭ — 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 — ✭ —
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-> SUMMARY. satoru's smart in many things, but when it comes to dating and relationships, he's lacking that intellect. somehow he expects you to always be there for him to patch him up.
-> pairing : gojo!satoru x nurse!reader
-> length: 5.7k
-> tags. nsfw+18 content, injuries (mentions of bruises, cuts and scratches), implied beef with suguru (i shall not be elaborating further lol), medical practices; stitches etc, gojo is fucking annoying lol, love him though, reader is going to grow grey hairs bc of him, implied fwb relationship, satoru ghosts reader for five months (not his proudest moment but plz giv him a chance), marks during sex, blood mentions, unsafe sex, creampie, nicknames
-> a/n: im currently having a gojo brain rot. its not funny and this is a cry for help. ps i have no clue how to do any medical practices so if you notice some things are off just...shh.... 🤫
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Satoru strolled through the clinic doors, his shirt rumpled and stained with remnants of blood. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of an older woman clutching her purse and just opposite her, a mother grabbed her kids closer towards her and away from him. 
Ignoring them was easy, after all he was here for one thing and one thing only. He approached the front desk and the nurse behind the counter was tapping at her keyboard, head tilted towards her shoulder to balance her phone. 
“Ah okay, gotcha. Your appointment is scheduled for next Tuesday. See you next week sir!” she said enthusiastically before hanging up and looking up at Satoru. “Hi, how can I help you toda—”
Her eyes widened as she met his gaze. Satoru rested his elbows on the surface and smiled back at her. 
“Hey! Is (Name) working tonight?” He didn’t even get the question out fully before craning his neck to peek past the doors reserved for the nurses.
She hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’ll be mad if she answered truthfully. It was conflicting for her. She’s fully aware of your brief relationship with Satoru. Hell, all the nurses were somewhat intrigued and aware to an extent. The extent being you refused to tell them any personal details of the matter. The only things they knew was when you’d suddenly get a text on your phone and the next five minutes you were leaving early, you were with Satoru.
But that was months ago. 
His frequent visits and texts started declining over the last few months and by the lack of Satoru written all over your face and phone, they all just assumed you stopped seeing each other. 
Satoru examined her hesitation and came to a conclusion. “Ah. She is, isn’t she? So, where is she? The back?” He tried to sneak another look past the small vertical window allocated on the wooden door to get a glimpse of your hair or anything before the nurse stood up. 
She wasn’t tall by any means, but with the way Satoru was hunched, it lowered his magnificent height to something more manageable and she was able to block his view with her head. “You’re not allowed to look inside there.”
“Then stop wasting my time and tell me if she’s here.” His eyes flashed momentarily as he started to get pissed and it was enough for her knees to buckle and give way, dropping her successfully back onto her seat.
“S—she’s not—” 
Before she could even finish her lie, the sound of a door opening from down the hallway caught everyone’s attention. An elderly lady walked out of the room, holding a walking stick and a grateful smile on her face. Once she got a reasonable distance out of the room, she turned around to face you and bowed, thanking you for the help.
You held onto her and helped her down the hallway a bit before letting go and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a satisfied smile on your lips as you watched her walk at a slow but steady pace. Her hand stopped trembling as much against the stick and you were just happy she was slowly improving. 
It wasn’t until you looked past the elderly woman’s head did you notice Satoru himself, hunched over the reception. Your fellow nurse looked at you guilty before sighing. 
Satoru stood up straight once he met your eye. 
“Oh hell no,” you muttered under your breath and quickly darted back inside the room.
It’s unfortunate you’re messing with Satoru Gojo of all people because he was faster than you and crossed the distance in the hallway before you managed to lock the door behind you.
You did however, manage to get it shut and used it to your advantage and pressed your back against it. 
Satoru sighed, the sound smooth and honeyed, knocking gently on the door’s window with his knuckles. “Lemme in. I’m injured, you know?”
You couldn’t help but feel flattered that he was only acting with you, pretending to give you the choice of helping him or not because you both knew he could easily have this door open in seconds and you’d probably be flying across the room if he had his way.
“That’s got nothing to do with me, Gojo. Please leave and make an appointment. If you need an impromptu surgery, please find a hospital. Not a clinic.”
“But you’re the best nurse,” he said, pouting.
You rolled your eyes. Yeah right. If anything they were all better than you. You only started working here recently, having a few months experience compared to years. The first time you gave him stitches, you had pierced him full of holes so much that he was even surprised he had a drop of blood left inside him, but he kept healing himself so you barely noticed the damages.
Another thing about Satoru.
He doesn’t actually get injuried. His injuries are nothing but an illusion he creates to get close to you. All the times he came in battered and bruised, nothing was real and if they were, they didn’t hurt one bit. But it didn’t help that he was such a good, charming actor that you couldn’t help but fall for his little game every time.
“I’m not the best nurse, Gojo. Now for the second time, if you need treatment, go to a hospital or make an appointment.”
“Gojo?” he questioned, sounding utterly confused. At first, he thought the sudden use of his last name was just a fluke on your end. But twice in a row? Nah, he’ll wait to see if you use it one more time before making a judgement.
“Yes. Isn’t that your name? Now are you going to a hospital or not Gojo? Us nurses have actual patients to attend t—”
The door was pushed open easily and he walked inside without a care in the world as you fought back the childish urge inside you to not stomp your feet on the floor and throw a tantrum. 
Satoru stood tall over you and it wasn’t until the ceiling light hit his face that you finally noticed the scratches on his face and cut on his lip. They weren’t hospital level serious but you couldn’t help but feel worried at the sight of seeing him hurt.
“What the hell happened to you?” There was no malice in the question, your voice filled with nothing but concern.
He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Got into a bit of trouble,” he said with a chuckle, scratching his messy hair.
You scowled and shook your head before holding his face in your hands to examine the damages. “This looks…managable.” You pull away after close examination and begin removing your gloves. “The nurse in room 405 upstairs can help with that cut.”
You turned around to throw the gloves in the bin and wished you saw the look on Satoru’s face as his smile fell at your words.
“That’s nice and all but I was hoping you’d help me with it. You know? For old times sake, yeah?”
“Definitely not .” 
“Why no—”
You turned around and poked him in his chest, hard, unaware of the big bruise under his shirt. 
“You ignored me for weeks! Not even weeks actually. Months! And now you think you can just waltz in and take advantage of my services? You’re so—” You stopped yourself when you felt yourself getting angrier and took a deep breath, taking a few steps backwards create some distance between you and Satoru.
Inside, you hated to admit you actually liked Satoru and grew fond of him. You weren’t one to usually let people into your hearts but he was an exception, and he just vanished. 
The first week was okay, you didn’t mind. After all the two of you were spending way too much time together on a daily basis so maybe he just needed some space? 
The second week, you were also…kind of okay with it? It’s a dramatic change to go from seeing and talking to someone everyday to suddenly have two weeks no contact. It was lonely but you just chalked it up to him being busy.
By a month it was just getting ridiculous at that point. Third month? You were pissed and swore up and down if you saw him around in public you’d claw his face out with your scalpels. 
Fifth month you had convinced yourself you had moved on. You blocked his number on everything and made sure he had no ways of contacting you ever, despite the fact you knew deep down you missed his touch, his kisses, his words, his voice, his dic—
“I’m sorry about that. I’m a busy man, you know?”
“It’s always ‘you know this’, ‘you know that’. Fuck —” You dug the heels of your palms in your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I don’t know anything because you can’t communicate with me! You were too busy? Busy?! Too busy that you couldn’t even open your phone and I don’t know, call me?! Text me?! I think even an email at that point would’ve made me satisfied. Not just radio silence Satoru .”
This time when you said his first name, it was filled with such emotion behind it. He could feel it from where he stood. You tried to keep your face as casual as possible but the eventual twitch of your bottom lip gave you away. 
“I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He took a step forward and tested his luck. You didn’t push him away or tell him to leave you alone, so he engulfed his arms around you, wrapping you into his chest. 
You refused to hug him back, standing eerily still as your face was suffocated between his chest. The scent of him was so strong that it almost made you tear up. Five months. Five fucking months of no Satoru was enough to drive you mad. You were so touch starved that you physically had to strain your arms in order to keep them at your side and stop them from wrapping around his waist.
“I’m so sorry baby. I mean that. I didn’t mean for things to get this far,” he murmured into your hair, holding you so softly almost as if you’re delicate. “But I’m here now, okay. Always.” 
He was met with silence. 
“Baby?” His heart skips thrice in his chest when he realises your hand rose to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric for dear life as you tried to fight back tears.
Crying in front of people wasn’t something you normally did, almost hiding it late at night in the comfort of under your bedsheets. The tears were always so easy to flow freely during those times, but now it felt like your eyes were hot and stinging and you couldn’t control them anymore.
With his hand on the back of your neck, he slowly pulled your face away from his chest and lifted your chin to look up at him.
You were a silent crier thank god; the mere thought of you ugly sobbing and sniffing in front of Satoru made you want to end it all. He pouted and wiped your eyes with his sleeve. 
“Wow, I really had an impact on you didn’t I? Interesting,” he hummed.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck you.” You pulled away first and stomped over to grab some tissues. “I’ll wipe my damn face. I don’t need you.”
“You do need me though.” He pointed to the wet patch on his white shirt. “Clear proof!”
Now that your eyes are dry enough to see clearly again, your eyes wandered around the room, looking for something you could throw at Satoru’s head to knock his brain back into place. Your hands twitched into fists as you tried to control yourself again. 
Satoru noticed. “You know I knew you’d be mad at me which is why I got myself all beat up so you could poke needles into my skin.” Then,  he sighed, long and dramatically. “And people say I’m not thoughtful.”
“You’re not thoughtful. You’re an idiot with no common sense at all.”
“How else was I supposed to see you again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe call me?” You paused, remembering you blocked him. “You could’ve just come and seen me. You know, without getting yourself all battered? You can never think like a normal human I swear to God.”
That was what you loved about him though, his carelessness and recklessness. It only added to the excitement you felt when you were with him and the fact you knew whatever he did there’d be no consequences because he was the strongest and rules don’t even apply to him.
But Satoru doesn’t need to know all that.
Satoru scrunched his nose at your idea and shook his head. “Ehhhh I dunno. Too boring. This,” he alternated pointing his finger between the both of you, “is much better though.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Get on the bed before I change my mind.”
“Yes ma’am!” He strolled over towards the patient bed and sat down, kicking his legs as he stripped off his shirt. By the time you turned around to face him with the supplies you needed, you almost dropped them all. 
There was a huge bruise on his chest followed by more cuts and scratches running all down his chest. 
“Gojo! Who the fuck did you fight?!” Your mouth dropped open at the sight, pure concern written all over your features.
His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Satoru*,” he corrects, looking salty. When you didn’t waver, waiting for a response, he sighed again. “It doesn’t really matter who I fought. Just come on, patch me up,” he ordered, smiling boldly at you.
“Don’t tell me what to do. Answer the question Go—Satoru.” 
He smiled triumphantly at your words. “Suguru.”
It was almost amusing to him to watch you file the name and process it. It definitely sounded familiar, but you spent the last five months erasing everything Satoru related from your mind, so it took a little longer than usual to remember. But eventually you remembered who Suguru was and gasped. 
“Suguru?! What—why?!”
He shrugged and you could tell he really didn’t want to talk about it. “He just…did somethings that pissed me off so we fought.” He looked unusually serious for a moment and you could tell something deeper than that happened, but you weren’t here to be his therapist. So you didn’t pry.
“Okay. Well…” 
He waved your sentence off flippantly. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Seriously. Move on and fix me.”
“You’re not in the position to have an attitude right now Satoru. I can leave right now and have another nurse here to do this for you.”
That shut him up for a bit and you smiled in triumph that he was able to shut up for once. 
His eyes were on you the entire time. You grabbed a cotton ball and applied alcohol to it, dabbing away at the cuts gently before beginning to stitch him up. He winced at the sting of the needle going in and you looked up at him, concerned.
“It hurts?”
“Nah. Just uncomfortable. Keep going,” he responded, giving you the okay.
With his approval, you continued with his stitches and everything was going just fine. You didn’t feel as overwhelmed with the close proximity as much as you thought you would’ve. But the second you finished up with his chest and moved onto his face, you realised you might not be able to do this.
His eyes were trained on your face the entire time and they were so intense to look at. He grinned when he noticed you pause for a moment, as if trying to keep all your focus away from his distracting stare and you wanted to stuff the ball of cotton into his mouth to wipe his smug smile off his face. 
The bed was near the end of the room, meaning the light didn’t hit it as well as it should’ve, making it harder to see. So you had no other choice but hold his face up by his chin and continue dabbing alcohol on his cuts. You could see his eyes dart all over your face, from your nose, mouth, eyes, and everything you shifted backwards to grab something, those eyes of his followed.
His eyes lingered on your lips the longest, and in the silence of the room you swore the sound of your heart beating was loud enough for him to hear.
“Stop staring at me,” you said, pausing your movements.
“You nervous?”
“No. It’s just distracting.” You wiped some dried blood from his cheeks with a wet wipe.
“Not a bad thing to be distracted, Doc.” 
“It is in my profession, Satoru.”
Standing this close to Satoru had its pros and cons. On your end, it was easier and quicker to fix him up being this close and you were able to see and hold his pretty face. But he was also a major distraction, making your first point render useless as you couldn’t get the job done regardless if he kept looking at you like that.
For Satoru though, you standing this close to him was only benefiting him. He could see every inch of your face this close and if he really wanted to, could trail his hands down the backs of your thighs and onto your hips. If he really wanted to though.
“Okay. I see your point,” he hummed. “Distractions aren’t necessarily a good thing. But…”
“No buts! Fuck, you’re so annoying.” You pulled away to grip at your hair, wondering if you were truly frustrated enough to rip your hair out. You’ll probably regret it in the morning so you refrain from the thought.
“Would you think it’d be annoying if I kissed you right now?”
“Yes,” you responded back without waiting a beat. “Don’t even think about it.” You went back to work, tilting his head tot he side to see if there’s anymore damage to assess.
He took advantage of your focused state to lean in closer. “You sure?” His nose brushed yours and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away. 
You cleared your throat and jerked your head over to the camera on the ceiling near the end of the room. Satoru looked away from you for a moment to look at it. 
“Nice try though,” you said with a smirk. There was no more damage to his face, he was all stitched up and his cuts were cleaned. “All done. You can go home now.”
You stepped away from  him and let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. It was so intense being that close to him, your lungs actually felt peace the moment you were away. 
“Alright. Let’s go.” He stood up, shrugging his shirt back on.
You turned around and looked at him in confusion. “Let’s go? I’m not going anywhere.”
“You gotta walk me to my car. What if I fall and seriously injure myself?” He put his finger on his chin, deeply thoughtful.
Your face deadpanned. “If you were good enough to drive here, then you can walk yourself to your car. I’m not an escort.”
“What time do you get off?” he asked, ignoring your previous sentence.
“I dunno. Maybe midnight? Something around that.”
He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Almost eleven p.m. “Alright. I’ll wait for you.” 
“What?! No.” You rubbed your forehead in annoyance. This dude was giving you a migraine. “Please just go home. I have my own way home already.”
“What. The bus?”
You hated his tone. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Why go on that thing when you could drive with me? You used to love my car you know?”
The fact that he was throwing what you used to be in your face like he wasn’t the one to ruin it made you angry. “And how many months ago was that, Satoru? I’ve moved on.”
“Yeah yeah.” He laced his hands behind his head and began to walk out. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and you stood in the room for a moment wondering if he actually left. 
It felt too good to be true. But after two minutes, you went out into the hallway and saw he was nowhere to be seen. With that in mind, you were able to finish working and leave on time, briefly ignoring your fellow nurses questions about what Satoru wanted.
By the time you exited the clinic, changed out of your nurse scrubs and back in your casual attire, you were on your way to the bus stop down the street when you saw the only car left in the parking lot was still there.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hated how you could see Satoru’s white hair in the drivers seat, his head hung low as he looked at his phone. He was distracted and this was your chance to make an escape for the bus stop without him noticing.
You managed to make it out of the car park and on the way to the bus stop in peace, earbuds in your ears with music playing softly. But that wasn’t enough to stop the loud honk of a car beside you. He was driving beside you at a slow pace with the passenger side of the door wide open.
So careless.
He had it wide open as if he knew you’d get in.
So conceited.
Part of you wondered if you made a run for it, would he speed up and eventually have the door hit a pole? The thought of that made you laugh but you came to a stop and looked at him. 
“Your door is open.” You stared blankly at him, stating the obvious.
He acted surprised and gasped as if the revelation shocked him. “Really? Wow. Maybe you should get in so I can close it?”
You looked at the bus stop which was only down the road. It’ll take 45 seconds max to reach it. But you could practically feel the warmth radiating from the inside of his car and fell to temptation. 
He grinned wide as you stripped your bag off your shoulders and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. “Atta girl,” he commented before speeding off.
It took everything in you to not glance over at him the entire ride. Something itching deep inside you that made you just want to peek at him once, but you knew he’d never shut up if he caught your attempts. He’d probably go on a long ramble about how he’s not surprised you couldn’t get enough of his pretty face and the thought made you want to gouge your eyes out. 
Instead, you decided to peek out the window and try get a glimpse from his reflection. The car was speeding past so many streetlights at once making it somewhat easier to grab a solid reflection. 
Staring at Satoru driving was one of your favourite things back then. He always looked so calm, one of those rare moments when his face wasn’t fixed in a smirk. His face was relaxed and he’d keep his pure attention on nothing but the road. Of course that made you determined to see what you could do to break that concentration, like holding his spare hand that wasn’t on the wheel, playing with his fingers and rings, or even (in the severe cases) going down on him just to hear him groan whilst struggling to maintain that concentration.
You knew deep down Satoru would never let the car crash, so it allowed the both of you to be reckless. A smile fixed on your face as you remembered those moments and before you knew it, the car came to a stop.
Outside his house.
“And we’re here!” He stopped the car engine but kept the lights on, allowing him to look at you better and man, your reaction was worth it.
“Huh? This isn’t my house Satoru.”
“It’s not?” He looked around before gasping. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to stay the night then.”
Ten seconds passed where you both just stared at each other, not speaking, just the sound of the crickets outside adding to the awkward silence. 
“I’m walking home.” You grabbed your bag and made a move to exit the car before he locked the doors. You struggled with the door handle for a second before glaring at him. “Open it.”
He sighed, loud and bratty; practically throwing his head back against the headrest. “Can’t you see I’m trying here? What else do you want me to do man?”
“Maybe leave me alone, Satoru. It’s been five months. You clearly wanted nothing to do with me, now I’m returning the favour.”
“That’s not it though. Just…fuck. Please? Give me a chance.”
You shifted in your seat until you were sitting down again, looking dead straight at your hand in your lap as you began thinking. “...why now Satoru? Why today of all days? Why five months later, when I already let everything out of my system. Why did you choose to come back now when you had so many chances?”
He shifted forward, resting an arm on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against it. He shrugged. 
“Honestly I don’t know. I just…didn’t think things through I guess until it was too late. At first, I was scared. I was spending too much time with you and it wasn’t like me. The anxious feeling I felt was because I was experiencing these new feelings because of you.  So as a deflection, I stupidly convinced myself that you were busy, being a nurse and all and that was enough conviction I needed to convince myself to stop texting you, waiting for you to make the first move. You never did though, so I assumed you genuinely were busy. So I waited. And waited. And waited…but you never texted back. Then the fear I was feeling initially was just me coming to terms to the fact that…I liked you. But by the time it took me to realise, I found out I was blocked.” 
He sighed again and sat back upright, resting his head against the headrest again and looked up at the car ceiling. “I deserved that block though. It only hit me that I actually ghosted you five months later. And I am sorry for that.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, deadly serious. “But it never would’ve escalated this far if you just texted me first.”
“There’s no way you’re blaming this on me right now.” 
“I’m not. I just—fuck.” He pulled at his hair and sighed. “You’re right I’m sorry.” He flopped his head back against the car and reached his hand out over towards you. 
You hesitantly grabbed onto it and he rubbed his thumb along your skin, holding your hand tight. “You forgive me yet?” He raised your hand to his lips and pressed kisses against your knuckles, giving you goosebumps. 
You sat upright and leaned closer towards him, holding the side of his face in your palm before planting a kiss on his lips. It was short and to the point before you pulled away. “That answer your question?”
He looked at you for a moment before you closing the distance again, alternating between slow, sensual kisses and sucking your lower lip. You scramble out of your seat and he’s eager to lift you up and plop you down on his lap. 
Your hands laced between his hair as you pressed your entire body against him. His hands on your body caressed every inch of skin he could grasp, digging his nails into your waist as your tongue invaded his mouth. He winced when you went to undo his buttons and you pulled away, remembering his injuries.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry ‘Toru.”
He chuckled. “Nah, it’s not a problem.” He couldn’t help himself and pecked your lips again to wash away your concern. “In fact wait.” He unlocked the car doors and told you to get out. He grabbed your things for you and held onto your hand, leading you into his house.
Your bag, his things ended up scattered on his living room floor as he carried you up to his bedroom. You were laid flat on his comfy bed, head rested against his soft pillows as he hovered on top of you, keeping a little gap between both your chests to avoid further pains.
You graciously accepted him with open legs, locking them around his waist as he kissed you as passionately as he could. His fingers roamed all over your skin, peeling your clothes away and examining your body, naked and vulnerable beneath him.
The two of you barely spoke the whole time, too busy focusing all your energy into just enjoying the moment, the feeling of your lips against each others, the slide of your hands down his back, the caress of his hands along your waist. 
His lips attached to your neck like a leech, sucking until the blood rushed to the surface as his fingers went rampant between your legs, fucking in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb circling your clit. 
Your moans were heaven to his ears. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes cross when he sinks into your pussy. The image stayed in his mind as he quickly pulled his fingers out and switched your positions. He laid flat on his back and adjusted you on his lap.
You reached behind yourself to grab at his hard cock and pumped it a few times before shifting it underneath you. His cock slipped into you easily but the rest was hard, sinking down was painful, his cock carving its way into your pussy. 
You had an iron grip on his arm as he held your hips, your nails digging and leaving marks into his flesh. It hurt but it hurt so good. Satoru rolled his hips up to help you sink down, each roll pushing his cock further inside. It took longer than it should’ve for him to bottom out, but the second he did, you collapsed on his chest.
He winced again but the pain was worth it. Your arms wound around his neck and he began rocking you back and forth against his cock. 
“That feel good?” he questioned, his voice right beside your ear sending tingles down your spine.
“Mhm-mhm.” You bit your lip hard before sitting upright, resting your arms against the headboard for balance as you created your own rhythm. His chest was too injured for you to hold onto it, so the headboard was the next best bet. 
He hissed when you started bouncing like your life depended on it, his grip on your hips and waist becoming even tighter. “Fuck— don’t stop,” he gritted out, low grunts spilling from his lips.
His breathing got heavier as you sped up, grinding your body above him in any direction you could, desperate to feel more of him inside you. He moaned loudly in your ear and the next thing you knew, your world was being flipped. 
Injuries aside, that didn’t stop Satoru from flipping you onto your back, his cock still nestled inside you and starting off a brutal pace, slamming his hips against yours. The bed kept smacking against the wall with each thrust. His hands had a death like grip on your hips, keeping you pinned down to make sure you take everything he’s giving you.
Your nails dug painfully into his shoulder blades, not able to do anything but just scream litanies of curses and his name as you felt yourself getting closer. 
“C’mon, please, fuck me Satoru—I’m ah—’m so close ‘Toru please,” you begged, bringing him down for another kiss. You bit at his lip before sucking the length of his tongue, a move that you remember drove him crazy.
“Scratch me,” he whispers against your lips, removing his hands from your hips to rest beside your head, keeping him upright. “Mark me baby I know you can do it.”
Your hands reach towards his back and drag your nails along his flesh. It stung so bad but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it, feel every emotion pent up inside you for months and left as a red line on his back. He wanted it to scar, wanted it to be a reminder whenever  he looked in the mirror that you left that on him. That you were his now. 
The thought had him speeding up, plowing your body into the matress; your nails kept scratching, some lines even drawing blood with how deep you scratched. You reached a hand up to his hair and tugged and he lost it.
His hips stuttered inside you and his cock began to leak before he could even process what was going on. He didn’t stop steadily fucking into you as you came on his cock, as his cum began to fill your insides. 
He thrusted one more final time before his arms gave out, collapsing on top of you. His weight was more than you could bear, but that didn’t stop you from holding him as tight as you could. Your fingers ran through his hair, scratching lightly as his undercut as he took the time to catch his breath.
A minute later he was shifting off you, rolling onto the spot beside you before wincing again, the scratching on his back far too sensitive. 
You told him to sit up and then gasped when you witnessed how much damage you did. “Oh my god.”
“What? What?”
You pointed over to the mirror inside his bathroom and he slid off the bed and walked towards it, examining the marks on his back. You followed shortly after, standing behind him and watching as he kept wincing when he tried to touch it. 
“I’m so sorry—I didn’t—I need to cut my nails.”
He shook his head and rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you and smiling. “It’s nothing a nurse can’t handle.” He winked at before pecking your lips.
A few hours ago, the idea of patching Satoru up was enough to leave you grumpy for a day, but now it fills you with excitement. 
You can’t wait.
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