#Idk just the idea that because he never had a body and no one buried him the portal is by all means his grave

[luffyrose]

"My Grave" - DC x DP

I had this thought and it has refused to leave my brain but I wish to sleep so I'm giving it to all of you. Go ham.

~~~~~~

After many many bad things happen, Danny hides himself away. The only people he has left are the ghosts and his siblings (Dan and Dani). So when he ends up meeting heroes, that heaviness and sadness in his heart lessened. He loves being around them.

One day when they need information on his past for whatever reason, he is hesitant. So he takes them to his old house, which had been basically closed off from ever being touched due to both the portal and general danger it was, and he shows them the portal. The magic users are horrified.

And when someone asks what it is, Danny instinctively replies. He had meant to tell them it was the portal to the infinite realms. Or something like that at least. He'd never meant to say;

"My grave."

[bi-writes]

so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

[aestrayla]

cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader

cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.5k

a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??

at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.

he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"

it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.

"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"

"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"

soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.

after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.

"y/n," he whispered.

"mhm?" you hummed in response.

"isn't it obvious i like these better?"

he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.

"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.

you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.

mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.

with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.

whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.

"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.

"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"

oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.

and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.

as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"

there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.

he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.

"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.

"huh— OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.

"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"

there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.

in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.

it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.

"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.

"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.

"do you prefer ass or boobs?"

he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.

"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.

you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.

"so... boobs?"

he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."

asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.

don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.

the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.

as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.

one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.

"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.

as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.

"are you sure i'd look good in this?"

"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."

he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.

beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.

getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"

"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.

"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."

"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.

little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.

"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.

"what are you doing y/n?"

you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.

he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.

"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.

"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.

he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."

as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.

belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.

he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.

if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.

its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.

"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.

"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.

"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.

"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.

"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.

lmk if u guys want a part two ft. the datables!

©2023 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.

[kyber-crystal]

red thread || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.

words: ~2.3k

warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)

a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm

It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep. 

It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes. 

“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”

“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”

“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”

“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”

“We’re making history day by day.”

“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”

“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”

“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”

“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”

“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”

“Good.”

“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”

“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”

“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”

“What about the second one?”

“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”

You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”

“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”

“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”

The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms. 

TWO YEARS LATER

As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything. 

“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”

“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours’ and Hangman’s birthday.”

“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”

“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”

“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”

“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”

After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it. 

You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you. 

“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you. 

Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself. 

“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that  argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him. 

Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”

“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”

“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”

If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”

“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?” 

“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...

“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”

You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”

“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”

If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal. 

“...Thanks.”

“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”

“Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.” 

You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”

Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth. 

Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining. 

Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot. 

You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door. 

You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”

“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness. 

“Did you steal it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s his, isn’t it.”

“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”

“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”

“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.

The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road. 

“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”

“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.

You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit. 

“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”

“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”

Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”

“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”

“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”

“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”

Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.

“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”

The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.

tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell

[wholoveseggs]

hi! I see you have a bunch of requests so I’m sorry to request but do you think you could write an Elijah angst with fluff ? Like y/n is upset because she thinks that elijah likes Hayley but he’s actually in love with her and has been for centuries but has always been too scared to tell her.

Always

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) & @vervain3 ♡♡ - I combined all three ideas and made a jealousy triangle {square? circle? idk}~

3k words - Warnings: a little smutty right at the end, drama, angst, jealousy... vaguely refer to events from season 2 & 3... Klaus interfering & loving all the drama (Regina George energy)

It was a rare thing for Elijah Mikaelson to fall in love, but when he did, it was forever. In his one thousand years of living he could count on one hand the number of times his heart had truly belonged to someone else and he could recall, with exact detail, everything about them.

There was Tatia, the first woman he ever fell for, and then there was Katerina, or Katherine, who was a thorn in his side and a constant source of regret.Then Celeste came into the picture, a beautiful and powerful witch, her loss and betrayal still a bitter taste in his mouth.

And then there was you, the brightest light in his dark life. Your face still burned brightly in his memories and your name still danced on his tongue like the sweetest melody. You did things to him that no one else could, dissolving his burdens with just a smile.

You had captured his heart with just one look and he had been yours, mind, body, and soul. He was so in love with you, it hurt.

So when you died, he was shattered, torn apart and left to deal with the pain alone. He would see your face everywhere, haunting him and reminding him of his failure to protect the one he loved. To never be able to tell you how he felt was the most painful thing of all.

Centuries had passed since he lost you, his grief now a dull ache in his heart, but nothing had ever truly made the pain go away.

Hayley's presence in his life mended the broken pieces somewhat, but they were still damaged. His feelings for the hybrid would never be enough to erase the ghost of his love for you.

He accepted being content with what he had, knowing he didn't deserve anything more. That he was lucky to have met his soul mate, even if you were never truly his. To know that true love was real, if not fleeting.

So when he saw you, sitting on the sofa in the courtyard, laughing and chatting with Klaus, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was imagining you again, if his mind was playing a cruel trick on him.

But you turned, your gaze meeting his and the world stopped. He felt his knees grow weak, and his heart race.

You were real, you were here, you were alive.

And you looked just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

But there was a bit of a problem, he was with Hayley now. You were back and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Elijah, how long has it been? You look well." You greet him with a smile, pulling him in for a hug.

Elijah hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, inhaling the scent that he had thought he'd never experience again. He couldn't help but hold you a little tighter, afraid that if he let you go, you'd disappear.

"Y/N," he whispers softly.

You pull back, noticing the way his eyes seem to burn brighter, full of emotions you couldn't read.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since..." you trail off.

"Since you died," he finishes, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"Since you left me behind," you corrected him.

Elijah frowned, not understanding what you were talking about. The night Mikael returned, you were killed and your body burnt, at least, that's what Klaus had told him.

"Klaus said you were killed, we didn't have time to retrieve your body."

You shake your head. "That wasn't me, he was mistaken."

"So where were you?" he asked, still unable to believe you were really here.

"Here and there," you said with a smile, none of that mattered now.

You always had a soft spot for Elijah, when you first met him and his family, you found him to be so stoic and melancholic. You delighted in making him laugh, his smile lighting up his whole face and giving him the air of youth and carefreeness that you knew he had buried deep within him.

Nothing ever happened between you, he tended to fall for more serious types. But you never stopped loving him, he was always going to be the one you couldn't forget.

"You're as bad as Niklaus," Elijah said, chuckling lightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you grinned.

You were interrupted by a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes, she walked up and placed her hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/N, this is Hayley," Elijah introduced, his hand going to rest on her back.

Of course, you thought. She was exactly his type, beautiful and fierce.

You gave her a small smile, shaking her hand.

"How do you know Elijah?" she asked, curious.

"We met a very long time ago, in another place," you answered, giving Elijah a sidelong glance. "In another life."

Hayley looked between the two of you, sensing there was more to your relationship than you were letting on. She wasn't going to let you anywhere near what was hers.

"What brings you here? To New Orleans, I mean?"

"I heard the original family has settled here and I wanted to catch up with old friends," you replied. "But mostly, I'm just passing through,"

Hayley frowned, "old friends," she repeated, her hand tightening around Elijah's shoulder.

She had only just met you, but already, she knew she didn't like you. You seemed to have a permanent smirk on your face that reminded her of Klaus, and that made her distrust you instantly. And the way Elijah was looking at you made her feel uneasy, she had never seen him look so...happy.

"Oh," Elijah's expression faltered, his disappointment barely noticeable. "You're leaving?"

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome," you joked, your eyes flickering to Hayley's.

"How about you join us tonight for dinner," Klaus said, walking up and joining the group, he always knew exactly how to make an awkward situation worse. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You gave him a small smile. "Sure,"

When you arrived for dinner, you were surprised by the amount of people Klaus had invited. It was a bit of a relief, it would mean that you didn't have to be alone with Elijah and Hayley.

Klaus stood at the head of the table, making introductions, there were a number of vampires and werewolves present, including a werewolf alpha named Jackson and a handsome vampire named Marcel.

You greeted them all politely, before taking a seat next to Marcel.

"Y/N, this is my dear friend Marcellus," Klaus greeted, "you two have a remarkable amount in common."

Marcel smiles, "hello, beautiful."

"Hi," you smiled back, your eyes lingering on his, he had a killer smile and a charm to him that was difficult to resist.

You were glad to have someone to talk to, you could tell Marcel had a great sense of humor and you enjoyed his company. You also found yourself attracted to him, he was definitely your type.

"So, how do you know the Mikaelsons?" Marcel asked, a little confused. "I didn't think they had any friends outside their family,"

"Klaus turned me centuries ago, when they were hiding out in my town." You explain, taking a sip of your wine. "They needed allies, so he made some of us into vampires."

"Ahh, been there, done that." Marcel replied with a smile, leaning in closer, his hand brushing against yours.

Elijah watched from the other end of the table, his eyes flickering between the pair, his stomach knotting with every touch and look exchanged between you.

You didn't miss his glances, or his frowns, and you wondered what his problem was. He had his gorgeous girlfriend by his side, why was he looking at you this way?

Klaus delighted in the growing jealousy he could see bubbling up inside Elijah. He knew his brother had always loved you, but never made a move. And now, he was paying for it.

Klaus watched as you flirted with Marcel, enjoying the sight of Elijah growing increasingly frustrated.

"They seem cozy, how cute," he mused, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, it appears that way," Elijah replied, his jaw clenching.

Hayley smiled at you and Marcel, "they’d make a good couple,"

"Would they?" Elijah asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Hayley didn't notice, she was too busy watching the way your eyes lingered on each other's and the way Marcel leaned in close and whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

Elijah didn't miss the spark in your eyes as you spoke with Marcel, the way your face lit up and the way his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

He wanted to rip his heart out.

He felt himself growing angrier by the minute, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. He could barely keep up with the conversation, his attention focused on you, his jealousy eating away at him.

There you were, so close, your laughter filling the air, the sound he had been longing to hear for so long. And he was stuck sitting across from you, watching you get closer to another man.

"Jackson, tell me about this ritual you mentioned earlier," Klaus said, interrupting Elijah's thoughts.

"Well," Jackson began, looking between Hayley and Elijah awkwardly. "It could possibly give the pack hybrid-like abilities,"

Hayley smiled, "that's exactly what we need Klaus, an army to protect our child."

"What would this ritual involve?" Elijah asked, trying to distract himself from the sound of your laughter.

"A marriage," Jackson answered. "Between myself and Hayley,"

"A marriage?" Hayley asked, confused. "I thought this was just a ritual?"

Jackson shook his head, "in order for it to work, we need to marry,"

Hayley frowned, looking between Jackson and Elijah. She wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of marrying anyone but Elijah, but she had no choice, she would do anything for her daughter.

"It would give us the power and numbers we need," Klaus agreed. "We could protect Hope from anyone who wished her harm."

Elijah felt strangely relieved, despite knowing how selfish it was. He thought he loved Hayley, that her marrying another would bother him, but he was more bothered by the way Marcel was touching you, he realized that his feelings for Hayley weren't enough.

He still loved you, and he always would.

"I guess that's it then," Hayley sighed, glancing over at Elijah, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can discuss it further tomorrow, but I'm sure it's something that would benefit us all," Elijah said, his voice steady.

Hayley nodded, her heart breaking at his indifference. She didn't understand, she had hoped he would argue against it, at least a little bit, but it appeared she was mistaken.

She glanced over at you, seeing the way you kept looking at Elijah. She realized that your presence had shifted something in her relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger towards you.

After dinner, everyone had a drink or two and mingled. Elijah and Hayley found a private corner to chat about her wedding, their conversation awkward and strained, filled with hidden meanings.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine." Hayley nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I just thought you would... I dunno... Protest the wedding more."

Elijah hesitated, "we need to do whatever we can to bring home Hope." He spoke carefully, "you know that I... care for you."

Hayley looked away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. He 'cared for' her, but it wasn't enough.

"You care for me," she repeated, her voice lacking the inflection of surprise. "But you don't love me, do you?"

She looked up at him, their eyes locking. He looked at her sadly, the regret in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"You'll always have a place in my heart, Hayley," he said. "It's just-"

"She's back," she finished, nodding sadly. "You've always loved her."

Elijah didn't respond, instead he simply stared at her, their eyes full of unspoken words, unshed tears and the promise of a life together that would never be.

Hayley took a breath, blinking back her tears.

"I should probably go and join the others," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll… see you around,”

Elijah released a breath, running his hand through his hair. He stood there, debating whether he should go over and talk to you.

Hayley could tell from the way you'd been looking at him that your feelings for him were the same. She was hurt, and a little drunk, and a more than a bit angry.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Marcel whisper something in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. You seemed to have every man here wrapped around your finger instantly, even Elijah.

Hayley walked up to you, her eyes flashing. "It's incredible how you just return out of the blue and have every man here panting at your heels."

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the hostility.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way?" You asked, giving her a confused look.

"No, you're just a slut who can't seem to keep her hands off the men around here." Hayley snapped.

You looked at her in surprise, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Marcel and I were only flirting," you replied.

Hayley glared at you, her fists clenching. You could see the rage burning in her eyes, and you were tempted to push her further, just to see how far you could take it. But before you could, Jackson was by her side, a worried look on his face.

"Come on Hayley, let's get some air," he said, pulling her away from you.

Marcel watched as they left, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing down at you.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you shrugged, your gaze drifting over to Elijah.

He was looking at you as well, his eyes wide and searching, as if he couldn't believe you were really there.

"I'm sorry Marcel, I think I'm going to turn in early," you said, smiling apologetically. "It's been a long day."

Marcel nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Call me sometime, if you're interested," he said with a grin, winking playfully.

"Sure, thanks." You nodded, returning his smile.

You made your way over to Klaus, thanking him for the dinner, and bidding him a goodnight. You then approached Elijah, a small smile on your face, your heart pounding.

"It's wonderful to see you, after all these years," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"You too, Elijah." You said, giving him a genuine smile.

"I want to show you something, before you go." He said, extending his hand out to you.

You hesitated, glancing down at his hand, a part of you afraid to get your hopes up, to believe that he saw you as more than a friend. But when your eyes met his, you could see something in his gaze, and it gave you the confidence you needed to take his hand.

"Lead the way,"

Elijah gave you a small smile, leading you to his study. He walked over to his desk, searching around until he pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the desk, opening the lid. Inside was a pendant necklace, a gold chain with a small emerald medallion hanging from it, with your initials engraved.

You hadn't seen it in centuries, not since the night you parted, and the sight of it brought a flood of emotions crashing down.

"You kept it," you whispered, your eyes stinging with tears.

"Of course," Elijah replied, his voice quiet, a smile playing on his lips. "It was yours, it belongs with you."

Your fingers gently grazed the pendant, the cool metal a reminder of your human life. It was given to you by your mother, the only thing you had left of her. You had treasured it, and when it broke, Elijah had offered to get it fixed for you.

But when Mikael arrived and you were separated, you thought it was forever lost.

"You got it fixed," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Yes, it was important to you." Elijah replied, his voice soft, a smile on his face.

"After all these years, after everything, why did you keep it?" You asked, confused.

"It was all I had left of you," he replied, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, unable to speak, your throat tight and your chest aching. You'd never imagined he'd held onto such a keepsake, a reminder of you he held onto for centuries after he believed you to be dead.

Elijah gently picked up the necklace, placing it around your neck, his hands lingering.

"I'm happy to return this to you," he whispered. "It's where it belongs."

Your hand went up to the pendant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned to face him and his hand cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears. You leaned into his touch, his skin warm against yours.

He stared into your eyes, his expression filled with emotion, his heart beating erratically.

"I want you to know that I..." his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. "That I have never forgotten you."

"I never forgot you either," you whispered, your gaze dropping to his lips, your own parting.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, gentle, as they pressed against yours, you both sighed, melting into each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

He moved you back until you hit the desk, his lips moving down your neck, nipping and kissing, causing you to moan. Your hands grasped at his clothes, tugging him closer, desperate for him.

Elijah lifted you onto the desk, pushing his body between your legs, his hardness pressed against you. His mouth was on yours again, his hands roaming your body, exploring every inch.

"Wait, wait," you panted, breaking the kiss. "You are with Hayley,"

Elijah paused, his eyes locked with yours, his chest heaving. "Not anymore."

You stared at him, confusion and desire muddling your thoughts.

"What?" You managed, still struggling to catch your breath.

"We broke up, tonight," he explained, his voice husky, his hands caressing your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but his closeness and his hands on your body were making it impossible to think. He kissed you again, his lips hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you.

You moaned, arching into him, your hands roaming his body, pulling him closer. His hands tugged at your dress, hiking it up your thighs, moving your panties to the side.

"I want you," he muttered, his eyes dark, filled with lust.

You whispered his name as his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, nibbling softly. You gasped, your hands grasping at his belt, trying desperately to undo it.

He pushed his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free. He positioned himself between your legs, easing into you slowly. Your eyes locked, both of you filled with an intense, desperate need for the other.

Elijah groaned, gripping the desk, his knuckles turning white, as he began thrusting into you, slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans filling the room.

His movements became faster, more frantic, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you. You felt yourself getting closer, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming shallow.

His lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, holding them open. The desperate way he was fucking you was a testament to the feelings he held for you, and it only fueled your desire for him.

You moaned into his mouth as you came, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body tremble, your muscles spasming.

Elijah buried his face in your neck, sinking his fangs into you as he let go, his body shuddering. You held him, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax.

"I've always loved you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." You replied, kissing his temple.

He kissed you again, his hands cradling your face. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth, and a deep love that was reserved only for you.

It felt like coming home.

♡♡ Hayley is jealous of you -> you are jealous of Hayley -> Elijah is jealous of Marcel... & Marcel is too cool to care. ♡♡ ~What kind of jealously geometry is this??? I'm a writer not a mathematician lol~

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Can I have some dilf Jake & younger reader (ofc over 18 tho!!!! , maybe like 10 years difference idk )

maybe reader being jakes best friends daughter and them hooking up 😩🔫

also Jake being lowkey mean abt it 😏…

like yk “my slut” or “what would your dad say if he saw you like that - mouth stuffed with my cock” 🕴🏻

NO BECAUSE THE WAY I LOVE THIS IDEA OMGGGG

my vibrator's gonna run outta battery from all these spicy ass asks 🤭🤭😩😩😩😩

You had always had a crush on Jake Sully. He was old enough to be your dad—seeing how he was almost your dad's age and your dad's best friend. You just never thought it would turn into what it did.

You found yourself more often than not envisioning him fucking you. His naked body, all on display, his thick hands caressing your thighs, his being controlling yours.

Every day, every night—always, you were daydreaming of him. Daydreaming of what he would say, how he would feel inside you, how we would touch you...

You imagined being used by him, and the feeling was too much.

You couldn't even look at him without getting all flustered, your ears folding against your head, tail swishing anxiously, cunt growing moist.

And it was almost like he knew. He'd smirk at you, wink at you, give you little pats on the thigh, caress your lower back, smile at you. He'd call you girl, and sweet, and once or twice, baby. But, you assumed those were all signs of endearment. What else could they be?

You were torn between hell and heaven when your parents announced having to take a trip to one of the neighboring clans, something or another about old friends, acquaintances—whatever. You didn't care about that. You only cared about who they were leaving you with.

Jake.

“But, Father,” you'd complained, “I'm twenty! I can stay on my own.” It was a futile attempt at a) trying to hide the excitement coursing through your veins; and b) at hoping you wouldn't have to remain under Jake's care, in his home, for an entire week.

A whole week, just the two of you.

“It's not about whether or not you're old enough,” your father replied. “You're responsible enough, you know your mother and I trust you, but in case anything happens, it would be good to know Jake can be there to help.”

No matter what arguments you presented, your parents brushed them away. And that's how you found yourself, days later, living under Jake's roof.

It was awkward the first two days. You'd sort of try to avoid him, you would refuse to look into his eyes, and you'd be terrified of daydreaming. Every time you thought of sex with Jake, he would ask, “What's on your mind, sweet?” and he'd have this look in his eyes...this thick, heavy look that made you shudder.

Eventually, you settled down a little, growing more comfortable around him.

Really comfortable, actually.

On a particular morning, just as dawn washes over the land, you wake up, sweating and panting, from a dream—no, another dream where Jake fucked you, his mouth on yours, his hands all over your body, his cock buried deep, deep in your body.

Judging by the time, you assume Jake's already out hunting. Still dazed with sleep and lust filling your veins, you sneak a hand between your thighs, softly caressing your already-wet pussy.

You sigh softly as relief fills you.

Jake's gotta be gone already, you think to yourself, fingers circling your pulsing clit. There's no way he's still here. He always leads the morning hunts.

You remove your loincloth, bending your legs and spreading them, one hand focused on your clit as the other one pushes a finger into your aching entrance.

You mewl softly, hips rolling against your hands, and you close your eyes.

The dream had been so vivid, so fucking real...You can still feel Jake, as if everything had truly happened. You can feel his cock inside you, his mouth on yours, that stupid smirk plastered across his lips.

“Fuck,” you hiss out quietly, curling the finger inside you upwards, touching your g-spot while your other hand pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck.”

As your body starts bucking with the pleasure, you imagine it's Jake's hand, his fingers on your pussy, his voice calling you baby and girl and sweet.

You're flustered, cheeks bright with your blush, body quaking. Fuck, what you'd give for Jake to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. Fuck.

The vivid image of Jake's eyes, amber and predatory, always sharp and cunning, sends a sudden jolt of pleasure through you.

“Ah!” you cry, a little louder than you would've liked to, but the sound is already out, and followed by a whimper of, “Jake.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake sleeps not far from you, only a bedroom away, and when he hears you gasp, he sits up, alarmed.

He'd asked Tsu'tey to take over his shift for him, deciding he'd stay here in case you needed anything. The sound of your voice sends fear through him at first.

Something's wrong, he thinks, rising off his bed, quickly walking towards your bedroom.

But as he approaches, hand out, ready to push the flap of your tent open, he hears you again.

“Fuck.”

And Jake knows that sound. He knows it's not terror, it's not pain, it's not a call for aid. It's pleasure.

As he quietly steps closer to your bedroom, a whiff of your scent reaches his nose, intoxicating and thick. Your arousal is strong, it makes his cock twitch, his pupils dilate.

Jake shakes his head, pushing his cock down in an attempt to brush off the arousal.

What's wrong with me? Listening to the poor thing touch herself in there...as if I had any right.

Still, he doesn't walk away. He's about to, though, when another of your gasps reaches his ears.

“Fuck! Jake.”

At this, he freezes, ears perking, entire body going rigid. His cock springs to attention, lust beginning to sear through his veins.

Last he'd checked, you didn't know any other Jake but him...could it be that you were touching yourself to him?

“Yes, fuck,” you whine lowly, the sound of your soaked pussy growing louder, squelching as you fuck yourself.

And goddamn, Jake can't help himself.

He carefully pushes the flap of your tent open, peeking in, only to find you, legs spread wide, pussy on display, your hands touching yourself. He licks over his lips, his cock aching, as your scent grows stronger. He rubs his hand over the erection poking through his loincloth, yearning to fuck you.

He watches you for a moment, studies the way you touch yourself, the way your back arches, the way you throw your head back. Your pretty eyes are shut tight, your limbs quivering, and you poor fucking thing, he can't not help you when you're clearly in so much distress.

“You know, sweet, if you woulda told me you wanted me, I would've just helped you already,” he says, stepping into your bedroom, allowing the flap of the tent to close behind him.

You jerk, opening your eyes, quickly seeing him standing before you and removing your hands from your cunt, sitting up.

“Jake,” you stutter, voice breathless, cheeks growing darker with your blush. “I-I thought you'd—”

“Left for morning hunt?” he finishes for you, smirking. “Tsu'tey's leading today, baby.” His eyes scan over your pussy, gaze turning dark. “And thank fuck he did, huh?”

Deeply embarrassed, you croak out, “'m sorry, I...I, uh...I was just...” You trail off, at a loss for words. What could you possibly say to mend this?

“Touching yourself to me?” he questions, approaching your cot, crawling onto it.

You divert your gaze from him and press your thighs together, hiding your pussy from him.

“Oh, don't try to be all innocent and sweet now, girl,” he says, scoffing. “Spread your legs. Let me see how bad you need it.”

You refuse to meet his eyes, just as you refuse to open your thighs. So, Jake uses his huge, rough hands to force your thighs apart. You close your eyes, ashamed, goosebumps prickling over your skin.

His eyes drink in the sight of your soaked pussy, puffy from your ministrations, your slick dripping onto the thin mattress below.

Jake clicks his tongue. “You poor thing,” he says. “You were close, huh? And I interrupted you?”

You don't reply, only offer a tiny nod before murmuring, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he echoes, as if confirming the notion, licking his lower lip. “Will you let me make up for that, sweet?”

At this, your eyes snap open, meeting his famished gaze. “How-how do you mean?”

Jake smirks. “I'd prefer to show you. Will you let me?”

You consider it for a second. The opportunity of a lifetime...you're not gonna just let it slip past you...right?

“But you—What about my father? My mother?” you ask, voice quivering, and Jake can hear you don't give a fuck about that. You're just trying to be the good girl you always are, always trying to follow the rules and meet the expectations.

“Forget about them,” he replies. “They're not here to stop us, hm?”

You stare into his eyes for one, two, three seconds before nodding. “Okay,” you say quietly. “Show me.”

Jake smirks, his cock fidgets under his loincloth, and he removes the item of clothing. Your eyes fall to his cock, pupils growing wide at the sight.

Overcome with lust, you rise to your knees, asking, “Can-can I touch it?”

Jake groans at the request, throwing his head back. “Fuck,” he gasps. “'f course you can, sweet. You see how hard it is? It's for you, baby.”

You shyly reach for him, hand a little unsure as it wraps around his cock. The moment you touch him, Jake grunts softly, and you jerk him slowly, gently, glancing up at his face as he stares down at you.

Your big doe eyes find his predatory gaze. His lips are parted, little breaths leaving his mouth as you inch yourself closer. You place a kiss on the tip and Jake hisses. He wants to push you on your back and just fuck you, but he doesn't want to scare you off.

You lick his underside experimentally, keeping your eyes on his cock, and he watches, enthralled, as you play with him. The look of curiosity and amazement across your face makes him harder, precum dripping from his thick head.

You glance back up at him and timidly question, “You'll put it inside?”

Jake smiles at you, a cocky, seductive smile. “Inside that pretty pussy, if you'll let me,” he replies.

You nod slowly, understanding, before lying yourself on your back and spreading your legs. “I want you to.”

And Jake swears he's dead, he swears he's done for, swears his entire being is about to go haywire.

He remains kneeling on the bed, grabbing your hips in his large hands and pulling them up so your ass rests on his thighs. Your eyes are wide, excited, heart beating out of your chest.

“Watch,” he orders as he positions his cock against your entrance and then pushes into you, slowly, carefully.

Your eyes flutter a little as he enters you, but you don't gaze away from where your bodies meet. When the thick head meets your cervix, you gasp softly, body jerking, and Jake groans.

This is so much better than dreaming, you decide, clenching around him, making him grunt.

“So fuckin' tight,” he gasps, starting out with slow thrusts to see how you'll take it, and then increasing his speed, his eyes locking onto your breasts as they bounce with his pounds.

“Fuck!” you gasp, hands digging into the mattress below, legs shaking. You can't believe how deep inside you he is, how he stretches you out. It's so much better than your hands. So, so much better.

“Look at you,” Jake says, moving his gaze to where your pussy swallows his cock whole. “Takin' me so well, sweet. Is it good?”

“'s so good!” you reply, moaning, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You didn't think it could be this fucking amazing. “So good.”

Jake chuckles softly, watching you, and he figures he might as well force a confession from your lips while he's at it.

“Was this the first time you touched yourself to me?” he questions, one of his hands moving to your clit and drawing circles on it.

“N-no,” you reply, gasping and shaking.

“No?” Jake repeats, amused. “How many times have you done it?”

“Every-every—” You gasp, back arching, as he pinches your clit. “Ev'ry night.”

“Every night, huh?” he says, smirking. “And why didn't you ever tell me?”

“'cause you-you're dad's best friend,” you reply, whining as he angles his hips upwards, allowing his cock to press against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Ah, I see,” he chuckles. “You were afraid of your dad finding out, hm? Afraid he'd see how much of a slut you are for me?”

That makes you clench around Jake, and he groans, biting his lower lip. “'m a slut,” you echo, nodding. “A slut.”

“No,” Jake says, thrusting into your harder, deeper. “You're my slut.”

At this, you cry out, pussy dripping. “Your slut,” you agree, nodding. “'m your slut, Jake.”

“Yeah, you fuckin' are, aren't ya?” He smirks, his eyes watching your stuffed cunt. “Jesus, kid, what would your dad say if he saw you like this, hm? With your cunt full of my cock?”

“Ah!” you moan, the mere reminder of how wrong, how off limits Jake's supposed to be making you more aroused. The idea of breaking the rules for Jake makes your pussy throb, your legs quake.

“I'm not gonna lie to you, darlin',” he says, groaning. “I've jacked off to you every now and then, too. You and those pretty eyes, and those perfect tits, and that sweet ass. Goddamn. It's fucking impossible for me not to be hard around you.”

You mewl, eyes rolling into the back of your head, as you try to meet Jake's thrusts with the desperate bucking of your hips.

“Fuck, this is fuckin' amazing,” he grunts. “You have any idea how much I've wanted for you to suck my cock? How many times I've wanted to eat your pussy? How many times I've wanted to fuck you for hours until you're crying and begging me to stop?”

You whimper, entire body clad in a thin layer of sweat, your cunt fluttering around Jake's cock.

“One of these days, girl, imma make you squirt, yeah? You want me t'teach you that neat trick?”

You nod. “Please! Teach me whatever you want! Yes!”

Jake can feel your body tensing, your pussy growing tighter around him. “You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna coat my cock with your cum?”

“Mhmm!” you reply, whining, mind too lost in pleasure to formulate words.

Jake increases his speed, his hips ramming into yours, fingers pinching your clit, making you jerk and squeal in delight.

“Come for me, girl,” he encourages, his voice thick and rough with his approaching orgasm. “Come all over my cock so I can fill your pussy with my load, yeah?”

“Mhmm!” you repeat, nodding desperately, body thrashing wildly as Jake pounds you.

The pleasure becomes a harsh wave that crashes against the walls of your womb, threatening to fill you to the brim and then some more. You mewl, back arching, your eyes shut tight and your mouth open. You're gasping, shaking, cunt clenching around Jake with so much force, he drags against your insides almost painfully.

And then your orgasm claws its way out of you, breaking free, making your body shudder as you cry, “Jake! Jake!”

“I know, girl,” Jake replies, his own orgasm so near. “I know.”

As you begin recovering from your high, your pussy softens around Jake and he pounds into you, making you squeal and gasp, before he finally comes, spilling into you. His cum is hot and thick, sticky as it fills your cunt, dribbling out from how full you are.

Jake hasn't pulled out of you yet when he says, “When your parents come back, don't get nervous 'bout anything, kid. If they ask what we did, you just say you had a little bonding session with your dad's best friend.”

-----

Blog masterlist

@yagirlheree @kamcrazy123

[chiipay]

What if.. celebrating Christmas with Kaiser alongside his birthday? (Fluff)

Ohh cool idea. Ty (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I'll do my best to make a scenario that fit your imagination (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠). Also forgive me because my country is a tropical country- we don't have Christmas here.. so idk much about Christmas Day.

Snowy days- MICHAEL KAISER.

24th December

It's Christmas. Fucking Christmas. Oh how much Kaiser hates to be reminded of the day he was born. But he couldn't express it to you because well he didn't want to get slapped on Christmas day because he pissed you off. He decided to just let it slide hopefully Christmas would just go along without bothering him.

" Kaiser. Wake up. It's freezing here. Help me up with setting presents for the players. I'll give yours later for the day."

You were just moving stuff around Kaiser so called 'penthouse'. Hie place looks gloomy and empty- tf he did here? Just laying around? You shaken every bad thought of him deciding which present suites for every bastard munchen players-

"... dang-this is harder than i thought.." you mutter- thinking hard on the presents.

This is the first time you celebrate Christmas with Michael kaiser and you had no idea how to plan things out. You rought a few items to become presents for bastard munchen players- but you don't spend a single penny in your bank...it was Kaiser's.

'he insisted on using his credit card only- rich people phase ig..'

Your thoughts got distracted by Kaiser leaning his body on you from behind. He let out a long sigh while resting his head on your shoulder, eyes glancing at the sight of items you brought earlier.

Kaiser looks at some items and picks up one of them and he chooses...a perfume.

'...wtf. wtf is this?'

Kaiser holds the perfume bottle for a minute before scrunching his nose up making a disgusted expression. He tightened his grip on your stomach making you look towards the same direction as he is.

"..what?"

" who the hell did you bought a perfume for? My whole teammates are freaking male. They have male anatomy. Tf is this for?"

Kaiser brings the perfume closer to your face as you just look at it for a sec before returning your attention to him.

" oh- i thought it would be good to give it to grim. Y'know? Just some vibe- I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

You said nonchalantly not really finding what's wrong with giving a perfume to a guy. Kaiser gave you a weird look before just putting the bottle down and would just bury his head deeper into your hair, sniffing your scent.

'Nasty.' you think.

----------___________-----------_________

25th December.

" Michael- wake up... it's Christmas.."

Michael kaiser groaned in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes. A glimpse of his mother came to his blurry vision just for it to get more clearer it was you. His eyes twitched a bit when his vision was getting more clear but soon turned into a softened gaze.

"..heyy..you awake now? It's Christmas..and happy birthday micha."

'micha..' you didn't always call kaiser by a nickname because of how you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He never really cared about it. Mostly he would often ignored you whenever you called him that...but somehow he couldn't resist how smooth when he got called like that by you.

"....merry Christmas i fucking guess." He hushed in his low voice.

He sat up on his bed and then slowly looked at you while you prepare him breakfast in bed. He blankly looks at you while you prepare for it. When you were done he slowly ate his breakfast in front of you while you watched him eat it motionlessly.

"...why did you suddenly make me breakfast in bed today? You've never done this before."

" dang- forgave me for acting nice then. It's your birthday so why not? If this was another normal day i would have just forced you to do your own meal."

Kaiser didn't respond but continued to eat repeatedly. He was in deep thoughts...-you think. You didn't want your morning with kaiser to end up being an awkward morning so you try to change the atmosphere.

"uh- do you want a present? I already got something for you..?"

" present?"

Kaiser hates presents. He couldn't react properly when he got one. He hates it if he can't react properly would you be upset with him? Would you hate him for that? Would you actually leav-

".. having you is already like having a hellish present. Why should i get another one?"

His words actually came out opposite of what he is thinking. But even so he didn't want a present. Having you is already like a present he got from fate. He's more surprised that his 'present' is still with him and wasn't broken at all.

" oh-uhh thank you?..." You had no idea if that's a compliment or not but sounds pretty sweet to you..?

The tips of your ears went red making kaiser grin at your reaction-

' jackpot.'

"alright then, here's my present for you, meine einzige Frau~"

He leans closer to you making you started and backing backwards but Kaiser already trapped you before he gates his mouth on yours.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty-two: cunnilingus

>>> idk why i’m only here for yandere rough megumi sjdkfkffkg i mean he isn’t all the way yandere but it’s strongly implied, y’all enjoy!

>>> starring: megumi fushiguro x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: yandere-ish behavior, cunnilingus (f receiving) clearly, doggy, overstimulation, prone bone kinda, creampie, jealous megumi. >>> wc: 2.5k >>> event masterlist.

it really was his favorite place to be. being between your legs, face buried in your warm, wet and sweet-tasting cunt was so soothing and fulfilling to him he simply could not get enough. he wondered if he had an oral fixation specifically because of your pussy, almost concerned with how much he loves being on his knees wherever whenever just to get a taste of you. at the beginning of your relationship, megumi was a bit…nervous around you. it wasn’t like his mind wasn’t coursing with lewd thoughts about his pretty little curvy angelic goddess of a girlfriend, he just didn’t know how to tell you he craved your cunt on his face like normal men crave water. so yes, he had to come out of his sexual shell so to speak. but it seems this god forsaken get together at gojo’s was going to ease him out of it—and your cunt wouldn’t be his sweet release, it would be his sloppy playtoy by the end of the night.

not to say that megumi wasn’t pleasing you enough already, though, of course. he may be a bit routine about things, but he always took care of you. did you want him to be a little rougher from time to time? sure, but you’ve never been with someone so eager and passionate about eating you out either. that alone was worth his perhaps lack in kinkiness.

though your boyfriend has a bunch of his own ideas including a host of naughty things he wants to do to you as well as the ones spurring from his crippling jealousy. he’s not even quite sure where it comes from, gojo gave him everything he needed out of life and he never felt jealous of other kids growing up despite his unconventional upbringing. but when it came to you, he felt something sinister tug at him. maybe it was because you are so otherworldly beautiful that he can’t help but be on standby, waiting for someone to make a shitty comment about your body or stealing you away. maybe it’s because he knows he’s not doing enough to earn the pleasure of calling you his. but no one else could do any better than him, he knows that for sure.

so why is yuuta trying? he knows full well who you belong to—gojo’s famed favorite former pupil has you pulled aside, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your protective and sensitive boyfriend. it’s been years since you all had gojo-sensei’s class, but megumi still hated that yuuta okkotsu. his dad favored him as his successor over him, and even yuji took to him pretty quickly. those were reasons enough to hold a forever grudge, but watching the older man hold all your attention was driving him to murderous thoughts. having all the former sorcerers in one spot wasn’t a good idea—especially not when megumi had acquired an absolute babe in the time apart from his now young adult friends.

especially not when yuuta had you leaned against the wall, nervously chuckling to whatever he was saying, eyes darting around to look for your boyfriend. megumi was frozen in place, trying to settle the argument between the devil and angel on each shoulder. he could just approach yuuta and explain reasonably that you’re spoken for, and that he should keep it moving. but on the other hand, he thinks he should punch yuuta in the face because everyone knows you’re spoken for and that he’s your man. then he should drag you upstairs and fuck you sore and screaming until every person in attendance was uncomfortable. he can see you get increasingly anxious, so he makes the decision.

“c’mon okkotsu. you know that’s my girl.” you hear the ice drip from his tone. he’s not playing any games, and that’s clear by his unamused scowl and the way he folds his arms over his chest. you’re relieved to see him, smiling softly at the man you’ve always known to be your stoic and calm boyfriend. but the look in his eyes as he slides them over to look at you sends a shiver down your spine. yuuta chuckles nervously, blaming the alcohol and your cute dress for his lack of sense.

megumi growls at that, rearing his hand back to start a real problem. this was practically his house, he didn’t care about any potential repercussions—but your voice comes over him to invoke reason.

“hey hey, point made. he’s gone.” you know it’s true based off the shuffling of yuji and toge getting off the couch to ensure that yuuta and megumi are separated before it can come to blows. you lean into his chest, but his gaze only follows the group of boys as they shift upstairs.

his arms fall around your waist, and he wonders if he actually even heard what you said or if your voice alone was enough to make him hesitate. the rest of the party guests still watch the scene—wondering if it gets better or worse from here. some of them had experienced megumi’s temper before, some knew it was a horrific mix of nurture and nature, both his father and the man who raised him horrifically jealous beasts of nature. and the apple doesn’t fall far.

“go upstairs. find a room.” he snarls, daring anyone in attendance to speak up against him. your cheeks flush at his command. he’s only ever spoken to you with a gentle tone, with patience and understanding and all the warmth a man like himself can convey. but you’ve yearned for this other side—this gruffness in his voice and the unwavering dominance in his eyes. he doesn’t care that everyone’s watching—in fact, he wants them to. you nod eagerly, turning tail to find an unoccupied spare room in gojo’s giant house.

he only loiters behind long enough to let everyone watch you obey him—the prettiest woman in the universe, who could easily have anyone she ever wanted, caters to his every whim and order. he lags behind you just a bit, but you can feel his presence. it’s dark. he’s always been a distant, more guarded man. because of that, he’s always been regarded as cold. but his light never felt daunting until now. he never felt oppressive or controlling or possessive; you don’t have to look over your shoulder to know he’s close. it makes heat lick up your stomach walls and bubble down your legs as you wobble towards a room at the end of the hall that was sure to be vacant. you knock to be sure anyway, but megumi reaches around your waist to open the door anyway. his other hand grips your hip, pushing your forward with the pressure of his pelvis against your ass.

you gasp and stumble into the darkness, giggling a little in excitement as you find the bed. megumi’s fingers find the light switch, and you turn to look at his anger riddled features, something only jealousy could produce.

“yuuta okkotsu, huh?” he asks, pulling his shirt over his head. it messes up the spiky tendrils of his hair, but you don’t notice over the crazed look in his eyes. he’s pale and lean, dips along his slender abdomen indicating the strength hiding beneath. he fiddles with his belt next. “you have a voice. why didn’t you tell him to back off?”

you flush with embarrassment, anxiety rippling at your core to mix with the burning excitement. “i—i was try—“

“i—i” megumi mocked, licking his teeth. he walked closer to you, taking over that tiny little sundress you wore that was no doubt the only layer keeping him or anyone else away from your drooling cunt. it aggravates him. you look this beautiful out in public all the time—and it really didn’t matter if you were in this slutty dress or a goddamn burlap sack, anyone with eyes in their head could tell that you were an angel among mortal men. “you’re too nice for your own good. you almost got his ass kicked because you don’t know how to speak up for yourself.”

you bite your lip, nodding along to his scolding. you know you should apologize to him, but you can’t deny how much it turns you on to see him so angry. especially when he approaches you, pushing your sitting form in to a laying one so he could yank you by the hips to the bottom of the bed. he flips your sundress up, snarling again when he finds you bare—and soaking fucking wet.

“oh i see. you’re cute enough to parade around like this but can’t tell other boys you have a man?” he spits on your pussy, sliding it around your hood and lips with his middle and ring fingers. “i’ll help you find your voice.”

he shoves your thighs apart and keeps them like that, rolling his eyes as you squirm and writhe. it’s only in excitement, though. your hands find his hair to prove it as he dives toward your cunt, lapping at you eagerly. he can’t help but moan at your taste—no matter how many tried only he got to experience this moment, the way you look with his mouth suckling on your clit; brows draw up in ecstasy, lip already swollen and puffy from your teeth repeatedly gnawing into it. he couldn’t help but be obsessed with you, anyone would be—it was clear that pretty much everyone was.

but you remind him of your love when you clutch your thighs around his face, tugging his hair so hard he has no choice but to bury his face deeper, sucking and biting on your clit so roughly you whimper—big hands that always stay cool to the touch paw at the meat of your thighs to let you know just how much he enjoys being one that pleasures you. he needs to hear you scream his name—needs you to let everyone know who it is that’s got you seeing stars and arching off the mattress.

“meg—gonna cum, oh sh—“ your stomach burns, and you lurch and crumple to try to relieve it, but megumi holds you down. he grunts to egg you on, demanding your orgasm to come quicker as he nibbles on the very source of your pleasure, sending colorful orbs flashing across your vision as you wail his name. you’re getting there, but he knows you can get louder.

“don’t hold back now, do better.” he seems agitated as he hooks his arms around your thighs—pulling your cunt to his face without any means of escape. he slides his tongue back in your hole, intense jaded emerald eyes watching your contorted face of deliriousness. you were brainless already, chants of ‘megumi—megumi—megu—meg-megumi!’ roll past your lips as he slides his tongue along your entire slit, nose bumping against your swollen and oversensitive clit so hard he almost feels bad for all his old classmates and friends listening to your guttural cries. almost.

you’re weightless, suspended in space—floating in a river of unending bliss. it’s too much. you’re finally getting what you’ve always asked for and you can’t handle it—and his pants are still on. the only things tying you to the planet are: the feeling of his soft hair clenched tight in between your fingers, the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pressure of his mouth milking your pussy, and his delicious grunts of demand. you can’t deny him, and your hips clearly beg for more as they hump his face to push you towards your second edge in just a few minutes.

he hopes yuuta and all those other motherfuckers that have ever thought about toeing the line get the fucking message—you’re certainly being loud and clear. your vision darkens completely, mouth dropped in a permanent yell of his name. it’s perfect, and megumi lacks the patience to be gentle, for once. he shoves you back, lips glistening with your slick, cheeks red from his hard work and eyes flickering with a cold flame so hot your whole body burns for him.

he shrugs, shoving his pants down and tugging at the hand of his solid black briefs next. “face down, ass up.” you bite your lip in anticipation, rolling to your stomach in the pretty arch he requested. he nods at your obedience, getting up on the bed with you. his cool touch finds your hips at the same time his fat cockhead finds your entrance—and he’s pulling you down on him mercilessly. “don’t you dare quiet yourself. i want them to hear everything.”

his growl affects you almoat as much as his rough strokes, curved pale length stabbing through to your cervix without any breaks in between. megumi cursed under his breath, pulling your arms behind your back to ensure that you struggled to obey him. it was cute watching you turn your face in the covers so he—and everyone else—could hear your animalistic cries. he pins your wrists in one massive trap of his own hand, his other still leveraging a hold on your hip to keep you from escaping his brutal ruts.

it’s no wonder he’s a jealous fucking freak over you at all. your pussy was magical, soaking wet and beaten into the shape of him and him alone—you gripped him like his own personal mold. he couldn’t stomach anyone even thinking about having you in the way he has you right now. it messes with him that he can’t stop that—but maybe your gorgeous curses of his name will be enough to ward off such worries for a while. he fills you so perfectly you could never think about another man anyway—even if he was only soft and gentle and tender with you, a far cry from what he is right now, you’d never stray. but especially with this performance, with your brain jolting around in your head and nothing but fire and ice flooding your senses—you can only scream out your love for him just like he wants.

“that’s what i’m talking about. scream and cum, babe.” he encouraged, letting your hands go so he could yank on your hair. he tugs hard, and it sends electricity shooting down your spine. his voice is so raspy and needy as his cock twitches inside your walls—as unforgiving and tight as they were since you were fluttering close to your release. “i said cum.”

you gasp out, feeling him pinch your clit again, the final push you needed as you reach out for the headboard. he keeps you from crawling away by knocking you flat to the bed, hand sprawled across your back to make you take it. you’re a goner, only able to feel the ridges of his cock abusing your worn hole—scraping against the entrance to your womb from this angle. his speed dies down and warmth floods your cunt, making a dumb little smile spread across your face. he rolls his hips into your ass slower, riding out your high. he’s panting, running a hand through his sweaty hair before he leans over to kiss you. he’s still needy, eagerly finding your mouth and kissing you with a beautiful mix of passion and aggression.

it sinks in then just how rough he’s been with you, and his eyes flash with regret. his lips move to form an apology—but a knock on the door cuts him off.

“hey junior—you done? everyone’s traumatized. great work.” gojo snickers—clearly proud of his boy.

[jgracie]

WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?

masterlist | rules

♡ dedicated to giselle @pinkdiorluvr <3 our leo/ttpd/aphrodite parallels resulted in this epic crossover... love u sm !

in which leo was tame and gentle ‘til the circus life made him mean (alternatively, the one where you teach a son of aphrodite how to love again)

pairing son of aphrodite!leo valdez x roman!reader

warnings self-loathing (happy ending tho dw), ooc / dark!leo? idk tbh but this is a deep dive into his mind lowk 😭 also this is kinda long sorry in advance LMAO

on the radio . . . who’s afraid of little old me? (taylor swift), the only exception (paramore)

an aphrodite cabin leo my beloved… read the comments under this for a bit of context :) also in this they know the ghost of the battery is venus cz it fits w the story ok

If you looked up the word ‘tragedy’ in the dictionary, Leo was convinced you’d find his whole life there. It’d take up half the book, listing every event that’s ever happened in his life from the moment his mother died in that fire, her body so charred there was nothing to bury, until present time

It would talk about how after that, social services arrived, and how his aunt had refused to take him in, calling him a diablo and shouting at the social workers to take him themselves. It would talk about how none of his other relatives wanted him. It would talk about all the foster homes he’d run from, both the okay and the ugly (because they were never good. They didn’t want him either) opting to sleep under the Houston bridge for months instead. It would talk about how Leo was completely and utterly unloveable

Years of his life being this endless cycle of misery resulted in Leo toughening up. He was no longer the sweet boy who’d sit on his mother’s lap as she worked with pieces of metal, who’d run to get her a hammer or a screwdriver before she even asked for it, his heart so full of love for her he was close to exploding. No, this was a new Leo. This Leo learnt to deal with the bullies and the streets and everything else life decided to throw at him, his skin calloused and his heart cold. Sure, he was still elvish and scrawny, but he wasn’t afraid. That alone was enough

Eventually, he befriended Piper. She was nice. For once, he was around someone who didn’t seem to mind his company. But no matter how much Piper liked him, she still liked Jason more. Leo wasn’t an idiot, he knew from the moment Piper laid eyes on the perfect blond that this was her dream guy. And he was happy for her, she was his friend after all! However, he couldn’t help but resent her feelings towards him. He found himself left out again - unloveable Leonidas Valdez, that’s who he’d always be, now that his mom was gone

Then, he discovered a whole new world of Gods and monsters and for a moment in time, Leo thought everything might finally begin to click. He never fit in with the other kids in his foster homes because he wasn’t like them, he was a demigod, of course he couldn’t fit in. For the first time since his mother’s passing, Leo became an optimist. Maybe things would turn around? He’d get to meet his second parent and they’d explain it all, possibly even reward him for his perseverance? Leo toyed around with the idea, replaying the fantasy in his head. In the end, to him, just getting a glimpse of them would be enough

He got claimed as soon as he arrived. Usually, that would be considered incredibly lucky, and Leo really tried thinking of it in that way. Annabeth had told him some campers wait years for that symbol to float over their heads, to finally be able to move out of the crowded Hermes cabin and have people they can genuinely call siblings, a place they can genuinely call home

Leo would’ve been happy if his Godly parent wasn’t her. Aphrodite. What a sick joke. How could the Goddess of love be his mother? No one loved Leo, even Piper and Jason saw him as a nuisance at times. They tried to disguise it, but Leo knew. Years of being bullied had given him excellent training in reading the emotions of others. He knew that whenever the three of them were together, they wished they could be alone. He’d almost refused to sleep in cabin 10, but his new siblings grabbed him by the arms and dragged him over, excited to meet a fellow child of their mother’s

Luckily, it didn’t take Leo very long to get a quest. He, along with Piper and Jason, left Camp Half-Blood to go find and save Hera from the cage she was trapped in. Although the quest was hard and there were many times he’d come close to death, Leo was happier away from the cabin that reminded him of everything he should be and was not. The trio came back to camp just in time and immediately started planning their journey to Jason’s home, Camp Jupiter

The days Leo was building the Argo II were some of his happiest. He had an excuse to not sleep in his cabin (the Hephaestus cabin had kindly offered him bunker 9) and he was around the one thing he truly did love - machinery. The smell of oil and clang of metal reminded him of his mother, the one person who’d truly ever loved him. Sure, Leo did occasionally find himself yearning for human interaction, but every time he felt that ache in his chest, his fingertips longing to touch another, he’d push it down and continue his work. Just because he was a son of Aphrodite, doesn’t mean he deserved love. If he did deserve love, surely, he would’ve gotten it a long time ago

Soon enough, the ship was finished and Leo, Jason, Piper and Annabeth set sail for Camp Jupiter. On the boat, he felt less pressure to fit into the constraints of the stereotypical role of a child of Aphrodite, consequently becoming more like one. Away from land, he could shed the Leo Valdez who was tough and hard as stone, becoming as fluid as the sea instead. He wasn’t anywhere near as social as the others, but this time, he didn’t lock himself up in his room. He taught Annabeth about the mechanisms of the ship and teased Piper and Jason whenever he caught them kissing

From above, Aphrodite watched and hoped the Fates were feeling kindly towards her baby boy. It broke her heart watching him lose faith in love, but she couldn’t do anything about it - not with Zeus keeping a close eye on her

“Okay, I’ll show you the ship. Come with me,” Leo told Octavian - Camp Jupiter’s joke of an Oracle. The boy annoyed him, reminding Leo too much of some of the manipulative bullies he had to learn to fight back, but he knew giving him a tour of the Argo II was essential for gaining the Romans’ trust. Surprisingly, it was going well. Octavian was quiet as he examined it all, only making a few snide remarks about the ‘obviously Greek methods’ Leo had used

Then it happened. Leo felt his mind go blank and his limbs move against his will, heading for the ballistae. He tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. He fired on Camp Jupiter

Other than Jason, who had gotten hit by a brick and was currently passed out, everyone was fine. What wasn’t fine was the fact that the Romans were no longer on their side. The others gave him accusatory glances, even though he’d insisted didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Only Piper seemed to be on his side, but even she was a little hesitant, a little confused

You were the anomaly. Leo didn’t notice you - quiet and observant, wanting to see how this would play out - until you spoke up to defend him. You, a Roman who’d just had the only home she’s ever known destroyed, who’d just been labelled an outcast by all her friends and family thanks to him, had defended Leo

“Guys, I don’t think he meant any harm,” you said, immediately silencing the other six members of the Great Prophecy. Leo’s mouth was agape, unable to say anything as you continued, “why would he fire on Camp Jupiter on purpose?” You asked, “isn’t he a part of this eight, one of us?” Then, turning to Annabeth, you said, “isn’t he your friend? Why aren’t you defending him?” She blushed and looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say

You smiled, happy that another problem had been solved, “let’s not ruin this quest before it even starts, okay? We can’t save the world from Gaia if we don’t act as a team.”

For the first time since his mother’s death, Leo felt loved. However, he knew all too well how good things never last

Leo distanced himself from you, as well as everyone else on the ship. After that day, he’d decided to coop himself up in his room and work on upgrading the ship instead, only coming out when absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, you eagerly got to know everyone else who was part of the prophecy, intrigued about the differences between Greek and Roman demigods. The one person who you desperately wanted to know, though, was Leo

No matter how hard you tried, he always seemed to escape your clutches. You’d been worried for him ever since that first day on the ship, and after finding out he built it, you were dying to know more

“Venus only appeared when Reyna was alone, so I don’t think any men can come along,” Jason said. Yet again, you were splitting up for another quest. This time, it was seeking the ghost of the Battery, who you’d deduced was Venus, the goddess of love. Suddenly, you had an idea

“Shouldn’t Leo come along? He’s her son, isn’t he? She’d show up for him,” you said, giving the boy a kind glance, which he averted. He really didn’t want to meet his mom. She didn’t care for him, so neither did he for her. If she cared, she wouldn’t have left him to fend for himself all those years. She was no better than his Aunt Rosa

Unfortunately, everyone on the ship agreed with you. Venus would probably be more helpful if her son was there. It was settled, you and Leo would go find the ghost of the Battery

The walk was awkward. This was the first time the two of you had been together since the first day on the ship. You made small talk, asking him about the ship and Camp Half-Blood. He thanked you for that day, and when you’d given him a toothy grin, your eyes sparkling, Leo felt as if Cupid had shot an arrow right through his heart. He couldn’t breathe. He’d never been more overwhelmed with love

“Lady Venus?” You said, your voice tentative as you looked around, suddenly doubting your plan. Immediately, she appeared in front of you. She was beautiful, with curly brown locks and fiery brown eyes. Her smile was kind, making you feel a warmth spread throughout your body. Then she noticed Leo. Instantly, her fiery eyes became sad, and… were those tears?

She floated past you and towards Leo, cupping his face in her hands. He flinched, about to pull away before remembering she’s a Goddess and could easily smite him if she were in a bad mood. His eyebrows remained furrowed, the crease in his forehead only deepening when she said, “my boy, my Leo. You’ve grown so beautifully.”

You could tell Leo’s relationship with his mother was strained, despite never meeting her. He scoffed, gaining the courage to remove her soft hands from his rigid face

“I am not your Leo. I am Esperanza Valdez’s Leo. She’s dead, in case you can’t recall. She died and you did nothing to stop it, nothing to ease the pain. I will never be your Leo. I’m only here for the sake of the quest, so please just tell us what we need to do and we’ll be on our way,” with every word, you could tell Venus’ heart shattered into several tiny pieces. Never in a million years did you think you’d see a Goddess look so heartbroken

She tried to reach out for him again, but this time, Leo didn’t let her, inching closer to you instead. Sighing, Venus opted to use her words, “look, I’m really sorry. You have no idea how bad I feel. I wanted to help you, really, but Zeus–”

“It’s always Zeus with you Gods, isn’t it? No, you don’t get to tell me you feel bad. You wouldn’t have survived an hour in my childhood. Do you know how horrible it felt, being wanted by no one? Do you have any idea how much it hurt finding out your own mother, the Goddess of love, didn’t do a single thing to help, choosing to leave you feeling unlovable instead? If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have given up just because of Zeus.”

Venus was quiet after that. You looked up at the sky, afraid Jupiter would strike you with his lightning bolt at this very moment, but he didn’t. With tears in her eyes, she said what was necessary and as soon as she was done, Leo got up and began walking away. You, however, stayed. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the Goddess, even though Leo was in the right

“He likes you,” she said, breaking the silence, “but he thinks he’s incapable of love, and it’s all my fault, I know, but I beg of you, please save my son before it's too late.” Her hand was tightly gripping yours, and you gave her a sad smile before going to catch up with Leo

You found him crying behind a bush. He had his face in his hands and sat with his knees touching his chest as horrible, gut-wrenching sobs left his open lips, desperate for some air. Calmly, you sat next to Leo. You didn’t do anything - no stupid words, no trying to fix his issues, you knew that wasn’t what he needed. Leo just needed some love. So you wrapped an arm around him and let him let it out on your shoulder

With the grass leaving indents on your skin and the light breeze cooling your bodies, Leo opened up. He didn’t say everything, but you got the gist of it all. You also got that seeing Venus face-to-face and crying afterwards had taken a load off of his back. With every word he said, Leo’s face seemed to brighten, his curls gaining shape and his eyes becoming a warmer shade of mahogany. The realisation hit you like a truck: he looked just like his mother

As the days passed, you paired with Leo for quests more often. He was more comfortable around you than any of the other crew members, which didn’t go unnoticed by them. They were glad Leo had found someone he could let loose with. Your journey across the Mediterranean continued and your friendship blossomed and bloomed, every late night conversation proving to Leo that maybe love was something he could achieve in this lifetime after all

Despite this, he kept his distance. A part of him was scared you stayed out of pity. As a son of Aphrodite, he knew that wasn’t true - he could read people like a book, after all. But he would never forget how his life is an endless loop. Just as he’d think he was finally getting a break, the universe would greet him with the worst event he’s ever experienced. Soon enough, something awful would happen. Something that’d push you away. You should be afraid of him, an unstable boy with extreme detachment issues and a history of bad relationships. What was there to love?

Everything. To you, there was everything to love about Leo. From the way he always had a piece of scrap metal to fiddle with in case he got nervous, to the way his nose would scrunch up when he’d laugh. Leo Valdez had ripped your heart out of your body and decided to keep it, and you were okay with that

Your confession had happened after Percy and Annabeth fell into Tartarus. Everyone was absolutely gutted, of course, but no one more than Leo. He blamed himself for their descent into the deep pits of hell, and you began to see him slowly go back to the Leo he once was, the Leo he was used to being. The difference was that this time, you were there

You forced him to give you and the others some of the watch shifts he’d assigned to himself. You made sure he ate and drank water and took care of himself. You were there to pick the pieces back up again

One night, it was just you and him

“Why do you do this? Am I not a burden to you?” Leo had asked, just as you were about to leave his room. After finding him half asleep at the wheel, you dragged him to bed, tucking him in yourself and making him swear not to leave until the morning

You turned, your eyes holding a mix of fondness and hurt. Not for yourself, but for the boy who has never looked into the mirror and seen a person worthy of loving. Your voice as clear as the sky above, you said, “because I love you. You could never be a burden to me, because I want to do this.”

“Why? Why do you love me?”

Making your way over to his bed, you sat on the edge, cupping his face, just like his mother did during your first adventure together. This time, he didn’t flinch. In fact, he seemed to melt under your touch. You felt anguish in your heart at this - no matter how much Leo insisted he should be alone, he still craved another

“Because you’re you. You’re sweet and you’re loyal and most of all, you’re so deserving of love. That’s more than enough reason for me.”

As Artemis rode her moon chariot across the starry sky, you shared a tender kiss. You saw Leo for everything he was - a black dog, a broken boy, the definition of the word ‘tragedy’, and chose to love him anyway

You weren’t afraid

[navstuffs]

Synesthesia

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Summary: "A condition in which stimulation of one sense generates a simultaneous sensation in another". Or aka the fic where Gojo Satoru fucks you inside his domain expansion.

Trigger Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, SMUT, tiny squint of dubcon (reader goes mind blank inside the domain), creampie, multiple powerful orgasms, reader gender isn't mentioned

Author's Notes: probably the hardest smut i have ever written. idk how many times this has been done in the fandom (im sure tons) and one time i read this INSANELY good fic abt it and have never found it again. anyway, enjoy! credit on the images from this post right here.

other gojo fics

An average person will feel many sensations in this world, either physically and/or spiritually (if you believe in that type of stuff). Before meeting Gojo Satoru, your emotions were still there to remind you, hey, you are human: come and feel us; you can't stop us.

Everything changed after you met Satoru.

Gojo Satoru wasn't normal. Even in your first meeting, even without being a cursed user, you could tell something was off about him in the best way possible. The white hair, the ethereal blue eyes behind the sunglasses, or the fact that he consumed sweets as someone should be consuming water. Even your concerns about diabetes didn't feel necessary with this man. 

And then you started dating him. Yes, you, the average human being of this world, the single person in the million of eight billion or more. And he chose you, fell for you, for some crazy idea in his head. You became his new drug in the best way possible. Gojo Satoru could never have had enough of you. 

The kisses were intoxicating, and his neediness was that of someone who could not hear the word "no." Satoru would pout like a child, his head down enough that you could see his eyes shining through his sunglasses. And you would say "yes" as if only that vision persuaded you (it was your heart speaking).

Now, fucking Gojo Satoru, that was on a whole new level. At this point, you knew of the curses, the Jujutsu world, and the fact that somehow you are dating the strongest of that universe (?!). Fucking Gojo Satoru was not like fucking your other lovers. Satoru was entirely in during sex. As in head, soul, mind, the total package deal. And it was only fair you gave him the same. 

-x-

"What would happen to normal humans inside your domain expansion?" 

The question is met with curiosity by Gojo, who is wearing his black bandana today. He ponders for a moment, one finger toward his chin (because you said once he looked cute doing it, and he does it every time now). "They probably wouldn't be able to see it. Just feel it."

"Could it be considered safe?"

"Mhmmm, let me think. For some milliseconds. Why?"

"Nothing."

Oh, but Satoru had already perceived your interest. Your eyes did not meet his, and you tried to look away, embarrassed. His smile grew from his side lips until Satoru questioned, his voice low, " Is there anything I should know of?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

-x- 

That's how you end up on top of him, his dick buried deep inside your body. It is already overwhelming, suffocating almost, the air being pulled from your lungs every time your hips meet his, and you weren't even inside his domain yet. Satoru insisted on starting slowly for your safety: 0.1, 0.2 seconds max, according to his estimation. 

"Now?"

"Are you close?" You shake your head impatiently, furrowing your brows. "Didn't think so."

Differing from all the other nights, you sense Satoru's tension. He can't relax, not even without you moaning in his ear. It's not that Satoru believes he will hurt you; Satoru has to consider the slight possibility of what could happen if he lost control for a tiny second and ended up frying your brain on accident.

"'Toru. Focus on me." You demand, squeezing his nipple so he can come back to you.

Satoru reacts: he starts rubbing in between in the middle of your legs, stroking your sex in a way only he knew how to do, after weeks of studying your reactions every time you had sex. In less than two weeks, the prick had learned places you haven't even discovered yet. It had to be six eyes, giving your body away like that. Biting where the neck meets your shoulder together with a particular way of fucking you and hitting on the place that made you see stars could make you cum in minutes. You are thankful he is the strongest because Satoru had ruined you for any other person who existed. 

"Focus, honey."  His voice is steady, his chest heaving up and down.

If someone asked you how a mere mortal felt bringing God to his knees, you would know exactly how to explain. That's exactly how you felt fucking Satoru. Like now, with his hands on your hips, helping you sink inside further every time, your open palms resting on his chest for support. It feels powerful and mythical; his mouth parted away like that, licking his lips from time to time. Satoru is a proud moaner, loud and about - but for this time, his forehead is furrowed in concentration, and barely any noises are coming from him. If it were any other time, Satoru would have helped you or taken control when it had gotten too much for his small patience to handle, moving his hips until you were a blabbering mess.

But now, he has to be focused on not harming you. The situation is even more thrilling if you think like that. Bring a God to his knees because if you don't, he might kill you with his power.

"Satoru!" You moan, needy. A warning that you are getting close.

His white hands raise, and you watch (as always) fascinated as the bandana comes off, even forgetting about your looming orgasm. Gojo Satoru is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, and if you believe in reincarnation, about ten more lives. He has a smirk on his lips now, happy with the way he affects you. I mean, how couldn't he? 

"Domain expansion, Unlimited Void."

Everything stops. The air stops moving, and time stops. You are paralyzed, your eyes wide, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Your mind goes blank in the total sense of that word; you can't form a single thought. You forget your name, can't remember your parents' names, or where you were born, what you do. 

At the same time, everything is being shown to you; your consciousness is there, floating lost in the sky, but you can't grasp it. The only thing you can feel is your orgasm, but even that feels like it has toned down, a small explosion the size of a jelly bean growing inside your stomach.

The next thing you know, you wake up in Satoru's arms, gasping for air, shaking, with tears coming down your eyes. You can't stop squirming, and you realize it is your orgasm, with so much energy that could light up an entire city, spreading in your veins and going back into your brain at a swift speed, amplifying your senses. Then you find yourself staring at Satoru's blue eyes, and your mind goes blank again, but not like when you were inside the Unlimited Void. No, now you can feel everything: Satoru's love, Satoru's shooting his cum inside of you, Satoru's hand gripping your hips, the scream coming out of your throat!

Satoru is murmuring something, praising you, saying he loves you, but you pass out again, and the entire world goes black. Satoru holds you, feeling your heartbeat, not placing his bandana on his eyes, your body twitching unconsciously. 

You return to him after a few minutes - if anyone asked Gojo, precisely two minutes, twenty seconds, two exact milliseconds, almost three. 

"'Toru?" Your voice sounds exhausted, grateful, and in disbelief all at the same time.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here. You are okay." He kisses your forehead, holding you tightly in his arms, still buried deep inside you.

Later, when you ask, Satoru will answer that he had felt your orgasm within you. He had never seen you so out of this world, literally dumbfucked. He won't confess he got worried for a second and ended up placing you inside his domain for ONLY one millisecond. You also won't confess yet that you wanted to try again, up to 0.3 seconds (normal humans wouldn't survive), but who cares? You want Satoru to fry your brain. Instead, you will roll your eyes at his answer, slapping his arm playfully, and he won't even turn infinite on because it is you. And who is he to ever deny you? You who finally made his life whole. 

You that had a God wrapped around your finger.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Is it possible for you to write something about Tomas with a very blushy s/o? Like they tend to blush or fluster easily and he pokes fun at them even though he's lowkey the same way.

This was…something that kinda went off request. (Is this OOC Smoke? idk you tell me.)

Tomas didn’t mean to take advantage of how easily you fluster but how could he not when you looked so cute with wide doe eyes that adamantly avoided making contact with his, whilst your hands reached up to cover your heated cheeks out of embarrassment, your voice pleading with him to stop his constant teasing. However You never made it easy for Tomas even in the slightest as he would always end up reaching a hand out to lift your head up by the chin so you were forced to look him in the eyes, using his other hand to remove your own from your face, just to add onto the teasing fun by saying; ‘are you flustered?’ Whilst his eyes engaged in every reaction you gift him.

He’d then gasps, ‘oh you are!’ He coos. ‘Dear gods and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore adorable, you, my beloved always end up proving me wrong like always.’ He’d finish whilst receiving a huge power trip from how you’d weakly try to push against his strong chest to create some distance between the two of you, only for him to cage you in his strong arms and hold you against it instead, smiling dopily underneath his mask, a side effect you’ve had on him for a long while now but he wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘Tomas. Stop.’ You’d whine, burying your head into his chest to hide away from him, feeling all sheepish and squirmy beneath his gaze, cheeks still uncomfortably warm from the previous bouts of teasing.

‘Sorry sweetheart but no can do, you’re reactions only encourage me into teasing you even more.’ Tomas said cheekily as he nuzzles his face against your head, tightening his grip on you slightly when he felt you attempt an break out, wanting to keep you caged to his chest forever if possible. ‘You honestly have no idea what you do to me my love but,’ Tomas then moved his head to be level with your ear, you didn’t need to see his mouth to know there was a mischievous smirk because you could feel it through the mask, plus the way his eyes would reflect that same mischief didn’t make matter better either; ‘I’m sure we can find a more intimate way that’ll spell it out loud and clear for everyone to hear just how bad the effect you have on me.’ You felt your whole body heat up at the insinuation as you then smacked Tomas lightly on the bicep.

‘Behave yourself, we’re in public.’ You hissed as you looked at him, conscientious of the possibility that someone, god forbid that someone be Bi-Han, Kuai Liang or even worse both of them, overhearing this and making their own assumptions. Tomas on the other hand couldn’t help but find some form of humour in your furrowed brows and pouty lips; to him, you looked like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum if he didn’t give you what you want. ‘I’m not the one who’s got their head in the gutter though am I?’ He retorts as your left once again huffing, you were staring to understand why he enjoyed poking fun at you from time to time, you fell into his traps so seamlessly that he didn’t have to do too much because you already did that for him and for that you condemn yourself.

‘It’s not my fault that you word certain phrases into making me think those types of things, and besides I’m very much aware of how…vocal you can be during our more intimate moments.’ You said with a suggestive smile, batting your eyes at him for added effect as it was you who watched as Tomas swallowed thickly and continued to watch as his eyes grew wide as your ears could pick up the distinct hitch in his breath, along with the way his hands gripped your waist tightly. It was entertaining in seeing how quickly Tomas went from cocky to flustered with a few purposely placed words strung together; When he didn’t responded after a while you reached your hands to hold his face, allowing for your thumbs to gently caresses the parts that his mask couldn’t quite cover.

‘What’s wrong Tomas, you seem a little speechless.’ You said with fake worry as you brought your face closer to his so he could see the smirk growing across your face. ‘Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?’ You added with a whisper, not bothering to hide your amusement at the sudden change of your dynamic as you the pulled yourself away from him and out of his grasp as you walked away, looking back to see him still frozen to the spot you’ve left him in, before rapidly blinking his eyes when they cast their gaze on you with a unfamiliar look, which resulted in your cheeks becoming warm once more but you managed to bypass it in order to give Tomas a warning for the future. ‘Two can play at this game my sweet and we can go at it all night if that’s what you wish.’ You finished with a wink.

[pedgito]

okay i had this idea of eddie and reader fucking in a closet or an enclosed space of some kind yk being real sneaky and shit. and the reader lets him finish in their mouth. then he kisses the reader with his cum in his mouth bc he nasty like that. sorry if this was a really specific request it’s been sitting in my brain for ages.

author’s note: full warning, if this grosses you out, don’t read. and i don’t want to hear how much you don’t like it in my inbox because i don’t care lol. but for those of you that do read this, enjoy my nasty eddie thoughts.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) semi-public (in a closet), voyeurism (if you squint), oral (m receiving), fluid play/bonding (idk they share eddie’s jizz yeah), established relationship, eddie is v gross but we love that shit, if i missed anything lmk

word count: 1.7k

Eddie didn’t do parties, ever. It was just another spectacle and a place for him to be laughed at, wondering who invited the freak to drink and kill the vibe—but for you, he endures it. That and everyone knows to keep their mouth shut around you. It’s nice, Eddie can admit that—but it’s also damn near impossible for him to keep his hands off of you in public, not that you had a problem with it.

Dating Eddie hit you completely out of nowhere, ending up in an after school detention with him that left very little to be discovered about each other, both in your likes and dislikes, but also your bodies.

And so what if you fucked Eddie with only one twenty minute conversation under your belt—he was levels above most of the guys you fucked, even if he was a little bit inexperienced in the beginning.

He’s more surprised at how easily your perfect persona is tarnished in front of him—good grades, nice friends, always smiling at everyone who walks by. You were never mean to anyone, which is why no one ever said shit when you started your mornings cuddled up to Eddie at his locker.

They could look and stare, but no one dared to comment on it.

Eddie’s quick to feed into it, openly kissing you in the halls, grabbing at your ass under the short confines of your skirt or tight jeans—it would emit a few groans, but you didn’t care.

Not for a second.

He’s insatiable, really—and nasty to the core. You never really expected to like it as much as you did, settling for missionary and doggy style in most of your hook-ups, minimal eye contact, and getting straight to the point; not to say you didn’t enjoy it, but with Eddie, it’s kismet.

You could never say no.

“Hey, hey,” You murmur against his lips, his hands blindly reaching for the doorknob to shove you into Steve Harrinton’s bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack, “we can leave if you want—do you wanna leave?”

“Mmm,” Eddie shakes his head, breathing hotly against your mouth, “don’t think I can wait that long, wanna fuck you right now.”

You giggle softly, arms wrapped around his neck as he hoists you up, licking into your mouth with the same edge of depravity he always carried, growling lowly. His hands slip past the waistband of your jeans, contacting the bare skin underneath.

“No panties,” Eddie notes, “dirty girl.”

“Do you expect anything less?” You tease, squealing softly as he buries his face into your neck, nipping at the skin.

But, the loud ramblings of another pair of bodies stumbling down the hall has you both in a panic—Eddie nearly shuts the door close, but you’re hopping off of him to pull him into the closet before he can act, sliding the slatted, wooden doors close, leaving little light to leak through.

You force your hand over Eddie’s mouth, his features barely visible aside from the tiny spec of light that hits his face from the lamp on the table beside the closet. He blinks, confused.

It doesn’t take long for you both to realize that it’s Steve—and some girl you’ve only talked to a few times at school, who seemed a lot more familiar with Steve than you expect, hands reaching under waistband of his boxers from where his jeans hang open loosely, you avert your eyes quickly, connecting with Eddie’s.

He’s got that ridiculous smirk on his face, having caught you in the act of peeping, shifting the closet door shut tight—no more peeking on his account. His hands keep busy, whether on your neck, your breasts, over the expanse of your back, just touching because he wanted to—but you can feel how impatient he’s being, hard in his jeans from where’s pressed up against you in the small space.

“We can’t,” You whisper softly, feeling Eddie’s hands squeeze at the slope of your ass, pulling you in closer, “Eddie, I’m serious.”

“It’s Steve,” He murmurs, lips connecting with your neck briefly, “he won’t even know.”

Eddie was right—but the hesitation was still there.

“I’m not letting you fuck me in a closet,” You force out in a hushed whisper, “get over yourself.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, fumbling with the front of his pants carefully, mouth still busy against your skin, “Never said anything about that, but if I need to find a way to keep that mouth occupied, I can think of a few.”

You look at him sternly—Eddie can faintly read your expression, smiling confidently as his belt jingles quietly, slow to unzip his jeans.

“Because as much as I love to hear you talk, that mouth is good at other things,” Eddie says knowingly, “unless, of course, you’d rather watch Steve—“

“Fuck off.” You mutter, sinking to your knees with ease, yanking Eddie’s jeans down his hips impatiently and reaching under his boxers for his cock with a ferocity that has Eddie feeling for the walls, hands coming up to brace himself.

“Jesus,” He grunts softly, your grip tightening around the soft, velvet skin, his cock thickening to full hardness under your touch, “—a little warning next time, sweetheart.”

You scoff lightly at that, the deep hum of the music traveling upstairs and under the gap of Steve’s bedroom door—it didn’t help drowning out the sounds of Steve and the girl only a few feet away, but it did help muffle the sounds of Eddie, who couldn’t help his noise level when your mouth finally closes around his cock.

You lick at the tip slowly, right along the slit until Eddie’s reaching for your head, hand squeezing at the root of your hair. Eddie never tried to be soft, or caring—he always was regardless, but he was also just as intense.

“Fuck, take it, baby—“ He pushes a little deeper, forcing you to inhale on the push, moaning against him, “oh, fuck—“

It was easy to wreck Eddie’s ego, watch it come crashing to the ground every time you touched him. You bob your head with his movements, slowly until he’s holding you still, rocking his hips into your mouth with harsh, precise thrusts—fucking your mouth just like he would your pussy, reminding you just how devastating it was that he couldn’t have you right now.

There’s a creak on the bed that has you two pausing your movements, mouth still fully engulfing Eddie’s dick as footsteps approach. Eddie’s thumb pressing at your cheek gently, rubbing in small, comforting circles—almost a way to soothe or ease your worry.

“Hurry.” The girl giggles, followed by Steve’s ruffling through the drawers of the table placed beside the closet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And the double entendre of it has both you and Eddie forcing a laugh back down.

When Steve finally retreats a safe distance you feel Eddie rub at your jaw, urging you to continue.

You double down, shifting down to mouth at his balls, the weight heavy against your tongue as you swirl it gently over the skin—Eddie raises his fist in silence, biting down to stifle the filthy groan that almost escapes. It’s the easiest way to fuck with him, knowing how much he liked it—and you don’t stop.

Your hand pumps steadily, stopping to squeeze at the head occasionally, smearing the precum over the head and down, the friction unbearable as you made it your absolute mission to make Eddie come—fast and hard.

It doesn’t take long before he’s grunting softly, yanking gently at your head to pull you away.

“Need somewhere,” Eddie begs, “Steve’ll never forgive me if I use his shirt to clean up my jizz, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know,” You tease, “think it’s kinda hot, actually.”

It would’ve been easier for him to ask to come in your mouth, but that was a little too straightforward—he didn’t do it often, mostly because things would’ve led to sex by now, but it’s still one of his favorite things, your eyes wide and attentive on his face as he cums, thinking he might actually pass out from the feeling of it all.

“Your mouth, baby,” He finally says, voice strained, clearly holding himself back, “god, let me cum in your mouth, please.”

You smile widely, despite how hard it is to make it out in the poor lighting and nod, which he does feel.

You close your mouth over the tip, feeling his hand leave your hair to tug at his dick, jerking himself off with fervor, breathing harshly through his nose.

“I’m gonna come,” He forces out in a hushed tone, giving you the small warning you need to pull back, tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, as he lets out a litany of curses, “fuckfuckfuck—“ in the same deep tone that makes your thighs clench together harder, reminding you how greatly you were lacking his touch.

You flinch when the warmth of it hits your mouth, warm and pooling in the dip of your tongue as Eddie tries his best to suppress his groans, squeezing himself until there’s nothing left, the head of his cock dragging against your lips as he pulls away—your immediate instinct is to swallow, rid yourself of the musky taste and find the best route of escape, but Eddie stops you.

“Come here,” He urges, letting him pull you up, your face tilting in his grip as he closes your mouth with his thumb, rubbing the underside of your chin, “—how does it taste?”

You raise your eyebrows expectantly, gesturing to him before opening your mouth, beckoning him to get a taste—and Eddie’s never shied away from things like this, always willing to try things at least once. So, he does, his tongue dipping into your mouth quickly, the taste of him lingering between you two briefly as you hurried to swallow the rest.

“Dirty,” He repeats his earlier sentiment against your lips, “—fuck, if I didn’t like you so much I would never do shit like that.”

You giggle quietly, reaching up to press a gentle kiss against his lips, “I know.”

And you can say that with full confidence, because it’s true.

“Now, how do we get out of here?”

You shrug, “Don’t know—but, I got something that’ll keep you busy, if you want.”

Eddie was more than eager to please.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[saltylandland]

I want to draw this but idk how to draw nsfw plus, busy, so here is a list of ideas, also I’ve been following @weebsinstash for awhile and I just think you’d be into this :)

Your dearest friend (and co worker) confesses that she’s the main heroine of this world, she got randomly sent here from her world, in her world this place is a romance game. She says regardless of if you believed her she was telling you the truth and-

You nodded yes, and not because you were a loyal side character, but bc you knew. After her confession you get a flood of memories of a different world, and a detailed retailing of the world you’re in.

Your friend, though she is bland by design, she is radiant and an unforgettable presence, despite not being able to remember her face even after just facing her.

The story, about an emperor with a curse. The entire castle keeps the secret, all families have been working there since the empire was first founded. Cult like loyal to their (admittedly really competent) emperor

Your friend, what was her name again? No- that’s not the point. Her goal, the goal of the game, was to tame the emperor's curse by existing, something no one had ever been able to do.

Face multiple challenges like the jealous empress, make your way through the fanatical loyalists and get closer to the emperor. Rise from empress’s handmaiden, to imperial consort, to empress herself!

Your friend whispers to you that she can tame the beast that prowls though the castle at night, and that she’s going to soon.

(The emperor becomes extremely aggressive with sharp claws yada yada, unfortunately no monster fucking this time tho)

But when that night arrives, she fails. You find her corpse before anyone else does. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, she was supposed too- her body was collected and buried and it was almost like she never existed. Not that she didn’t have family, but like a spell the mysterium of the heroine fades away seemingly with no impact, she was just another victim of the beast.

With a new sense of fear, and with new memories, no loyalty to this empire, you were hatching a plan to leave. The night you were scouting out a path, with the excuse of chores on the night shift, you run into the beast. He was supposed to be chained up?!?

you are tackled to the ground, the emperor is on top of you. Opening your eyes you see him nuzzling your neck, shallow breaths fanning across you. You panic, this was supposed to happen to your friend not you. You can predict it now, he’ll turn into like a lap dog how embarrassing-

RIIIIIIIIIIIP- suddenly he rips your bodice down the middle, exposing your breasts to the cold air.

————

You try to avoid it but he keeps hunting you down and mounting you.

One night you hide away in the deepest parts of the castle, since you had been searching for a place to hide all day (and the beast fucked you all night) you fall asleep

Waking up to a gentle rocking it takes you a minute to process that you were now under him taking his cock

—

Then on one of the nights he does it in front of servants and they tell the empress who then calls you into her office, reader who is already planning to leave is scared you’re gonna get executed

The empress tells you that this is your job now, using your body to ‘tame’ the emperor bc there has been no incidents otherwise

This is a complete 180 to the empress from the game. She also insists that the emperor cannot know that he’s fucking you every night, as he is a decent man and he’d feel guilty, and to prevent you from getting pregnant she will supply you with potions to prevent that. And there is no other choice (not said but heavily implied) Now you are being treated as the unofficial concubine which the empress seems to dote on, your official title is the empress’s handmaiden/confidant

It is later revealed to you as you unwillingly get closer to the empress that though she loves the emperor (they grew up together) she doesn’t really care for sex (either cuz she’s lesbian or just ace) and once she got pregnant with their heir, their sex life basically stopped, tho they didn’t have an actual conversation, the emperor could tell she wasn’t into it and didn’t push her

Bonus points if she’s telling you about what a good man/husband he is for not pushing her/making her take care of his needs like that while he rearranges your guts.

Later later you find out that the emperor realized what was going on, but since it prevented him from hurting anyone he went along with it. And now since you’re so close to the empress, both of them start to fall and become yandere and now you have the most powerful couple who want you for themselves ❤️

Also, quick idea for an ending, he starts regaining control of himself as basically his and the beast’s goals become the same, and he starts loving on the reader even before nightfall and so the two personalities begin to blend and he’s cured! How wonderful! But now you’re the official concubine congrats! What? You don’t want it? Too bad! They want you! Also good luck making it out of the castle as everyone their views you as the emperor’s saviour.

[irisintheafterglow]

some bonus hcs about dating volleyball captain!gojo while i finish up the next few parts of end game. hope you enjoyy !!

his lockscreen is of you sitting on his bed wearing one of his jerseys with no pants on

he'd just made you laugh really hard and it's a candid of you smiling

your lockscreen is of him standing in front of a tree that had "penis <3" carved into it with his thumb up

you'd literally teared up laughing when he begged you to take a photo of him with it

his homescreen is of you trying to wrangle megumi and yuuji to take a proper photo without getting distracted (the photo, therefore, being them getting distracted)

your homescreen is a mirror picture taken after you'd run around in the rain and were both soaking wet

he's holding you from behind and burying his face in your neck while you take the photo

if he wasn't protective of you before, he is the definition of protective now that you were officially together

other players that dare to hit on you before a match are humiliated by the honored one beating them at barely half of his full power

he'd blow you a kiss and then serve straight into the net because he's stupid <3

he likes to leave little notes in your pocket with the most OBSCENE things written in them and you have no idea how they got there

"your ass looks incredible today"

"call me mater because i want you"

"kachow i want you NOW"

he goes absolutely FERAL when you wear his clothes, especially his volleyball gear

doesn't matter if it's a jersey or his track jacket or a worn out tee-shirt from training camp

"you look better in that than i do, baby"

"though i do admit you'd look better in nothing at all"

you could wear his SOCKS and he'd get all giddy

if you're wearing it and it's not yours to begin with, he's a smug motherfucker

would unironically get you two those lego piece necklaces that create a heart in the colors of the school (i was thinking black and purple)

he always has to be touching you

doesn't matter the place or the time or the scenario

whether you like it or not, a part of this man's body will always be on yours

leaning against your shoulder, linking a single pinky with yours, touching your thigh with his under the table

it grounds him and reminds him that he's not alone

he love love loves it when you fiddle with his hands

you're laying down together with his arms around your shoulders looking up at the ceiling you'll trace the lines of his palms with your fingers and play with his hands and he literally melts

he's incredibly adamant to mention to eVERYONE that he has a partner including but not limited to: cheerleaders, fangirls, classmates, girls' team players, and other boys' team players (man can pull idk what to tell you)

at all times just

"i have a partner."

"sorry, i'm taken."

"i'm not single."

"i don't want you."

he'd never dream of giving up a love like yours because you see him just as satoru

not the powerhouse captain set to lead your school into its second volleyball golden age

just your best friend first then boyfriend satoru

whose bloodstream probably contains sugary green apple soda that you taste whenever he kisses you

"i taste that shitty fruity energy drink on your tongue again"

"so you admit you like my tongue"

"i just called it shitty, satoru"

"i'll start drinking a different flavor then, and you tell me which one you like"

he still doesn't convince you to call him captain

yet ;)

[pedrilcvr]

Hi!!! I see you write for majority of fc barca and was wondering if you could throw in a little Fermin? They’re at the beach and he wants to actually go out and swim and whatnot and reader was set on watching him (that being the agreement) but him being him, he persuades her and it’s just fluff. Love your writing!! 🥰🥰

Sun to me — Fermín Lopez.

Pairing: Fermín Lopez x Fem!Reader (could be gn)

Summary: You had agreed to go to the beach with your boyfriend on one simple condition, he didn’t make you go in the water. But of course, Fermín being Fermín, had somehow managed to convince you anyways.

Disclaimer/s: Playful threats! nothing actually serious though! Reader has a case of Thalassophobia …

A/N: guys you don’t understand how insane that thread of his made me. idk if i want him or berta more.

Waves lapped at the sandy beach’s shore, providing a calming background noise as you laid on your beach towel. The sun beat down against your skin and sweat glistened across you. Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

Constant shuffling and barely audible huffs of breath from your boyfriend made it so you couldn’t fully relax. Eventually, after it kept going on for well over twenty minutes, you pick your head up. “May I help you?”

Fermín hums, facing you with an innocent smile. “What?” Seriously.

“Fer, what do you want.” You ask, forehead creasing. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you’d be damned before you ever agreed to it.

“Well,” he ventures, “I was thinking.. you look really hot—not like hot-hot, but—well you are hot.” Now he’s stumbling over his words, eye’s narrowing as he tried to correct himself. Suppressing a laugh, you motion for him to just keep going.

“Okay, I meant you’re sweating, so.. let’s go swim.” He finishes, eyes sparkling with mischief. “There’s no scary dolphins to eat you this close to shore!”

“And you know that how?” You question, “because last time I checked, you weren’t an ocean expert. You kick balls for a living, hon. And also! What was my one condition for coming today?”

Fermín groans, head tipping back against the back of his beach chair. “Baby, please. I’m overheating.”

“So go on your own.” You reply sternly, laying your head back on your shirt that acted as a head rest.

Another whine from Fermín has your eyes opening again. “No stupid shit. Just getting in and if I see a dolphin, or some sea creature, i’m sacrificing you. I will not hesitate.” You cave, slowly sitting up.

A wide, vibrant smile spreads across Fermín’s lips. “Really?! I mean—not excited to be sacrificed, but you’ll come?” If you didn’t love him so much, you’d never be doing this. He looked so happy, so excited, you figured you’d get over your anxieties.

Nodding, you stand, reaching out your arms for him to take. Fermín take’s your hands gratefully, laughing as you struggle to pull him up.

As you walk the few yards toward the water, Fermín wraps an arm around your shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of your hairline. Something he did when he felt bad, so at least you knew he felt slightly guilty for making you get over your biggest fear for his sake.

The second the water reach past your ankles, panic consumed you. “Fer—I’m not sure this is a good idea..” You trail off, eyes wide as you stare out at the large body of water.

“Come’re.” He sighs, pulling you closer before bending down and scooping you up bridle style. You yelp, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, burying your head in his shoulder.

“You’re fineee.” He assures, letting out a breathy laugh as he treads further into the water.

You don’t open your eyes until you feel the water at your shoulders. Prying them open, you refuse to look at the water, instead relishing in how the waters temperature cooled you off instantly.

Fermín is watching you closely, a soft smile on his lips. “How’re you feeling? Can I set you down now?”

Be brave. Not too hard, you’ll be fine! Right? Right?

Nodding with much hesitance, you breathe deeply as your body is lowered, feet eventually touching the wet sand. No icky creatures touching you.. you’re fine!

Fermín takes his new found freedom and before swimming around, never straying further than an arms length away. “Come on, come swim.”

You lick your lips, contemplating the risks of swimming with him. While you’re distracted in your internal debate, Fermín grows impatient. Using his hand, he swipes at the water, effectively drenching you.

Your body stills, eyes squeezing shut. With pursed lips, you open your eyes to find him swimming away quickly, and you were not about to let him get away with that.

Jumping into action, you dive into the water, speeding after him. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that you were swimming further away from shore, you were simply just hell bent on getting revenge.

Fermín glances behind him, seeing you growing closer and closer. His lip tugs into a triumphant smirk as he stops. Treading water, he waits for you to get closer before ducking under the water.

When you come up for air, your heart stops. He was nowhere in sight. “Fermín.” You snap, “this isn’t fucking funny—AGGHH.”

The sound that left your throat made it seem like your leg had just been grazed my a shark’s fin, when in all reality it was your childish boyfriend’s hand grazing your thigh as it came up to rest on your waist.

His laughter fills your ears as he rests his head on your shoulder. Your anger subsides at the sound, head tipping back onto his shoulder with a simple eye roll. “You’re such a dick.” You giggle out, taking a few moments to catch your breath.

“Sorry.” He says through choked laughter. “I couldn’t resist.”

Pulling away, you swivel around in the water, arms coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “Now i’m really never going to swim with you again.” The threat was weak since you knew Fermín always had a way of convincing you to do things.

The blondes head cocks to the side, “you say that now..”

“Shut up, you dork.” You huff, pressing your lips to his in a salty kiss.

likes, comment’s, reblogs are always appreciated! and lmk if you want tagged in future blurbs + or lmk if there is anyone in specific <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[cyberg4n]

✧ 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄

paring: earth1610 miles x gn!reader

warnings: hurt, discomfort, crying, angst maybe idk, not proofread

a/n: pretend like miles never got abducted by his evil twin💀 my little snookums has been through hell and back

summary: miles comes to you, seeking your warmth and comfort.

you get into bed, pulling the blankets over your legs. before you slide under your sheets, you open your phone up — tapping on miles’ messages.

miles, please call me or text me. i’m really worried. why aren’t you answering????

you rub your temples, slowly feeling yourself heat up thinking about what might have happened to him. the last time you heard from him was when he told you he would be going away for a bit — due to “spider-man duties.” you didn’t think much of it because he always went on patrol. but the moment he had left, you realized something was off. it was a gut feeling. you stopped by his parents house, wondering if they could give you answers. but they said they hadn’t heard a word from him since. you even chased down ganke to ask him about it, but like the others — he said he didn’t know. now, you’re sitting in your bed, panicking.

you called his phone again, silently begging for him to pick up. you lay your head back on your wall, sighing. you take one last glimpse of your texts before turning your phone off. you look out your window, watching as the night slowly passes by. you hug your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees. for a minute, you just think of every different possible outcome that could’ve happened to miles, if he was hurt, dead, or alive. you exhale, tucking yourself back under your covers — reaching over to switch your lamp off. you lay back down, looking up at the ceiling. you closed your eyes, forcing yourself to sleep, but you couldn’t. you groan in frustration as you grab your laptop, deciding it was a better idea to watch a movie instead.

after a few minutes, you feel yourself drifting off to the quiet chatter from your laptop. you blink, waking yourself back up again — but your eyelids were too heavy. before you can fall back asleep, a loud thud is heard outside your window. you sit up, listening to the noise. silence. you shake your head, thinking it’s the sleep that’s getting to you. you close your laptop, placing it to the side before pulling up your blanket to your body. you toss to your side, closing your eyes. you hear faint thumping come from outside, but you brush it off. you hear something hit your window, before someone climbs in. you turn quickly, looking down on the floor. miles. you gasp, hurriedly kneeling on the ground. miles lays on your floor, out of breathe, his suit slightly ripped.

you reach over to him, shaking him. “miles?” you whisper. he opens his eyes, almost sobbing as soon as he saw you. he grabs you by your wrist, pulling you into his chest. he hugs you tightly as if you’re going to leave him. he breathes you in, kissing your face. “i’m so sorry,” he cries out. you pull away, a worried expression on your face. he sits up, leaning against your bed. “i’m so sorry i left you,” he pulls you in for a hug again. you hold on his shoulder for support when you look at his face. he looked tired. horribly tired. you could see dark circles around his eyes, and his grasp on you felt almost weak. his hands stayed on your waist, just crying into your neck. “miles, miles, tell me what happened. where did you go this whole time?” your breathe shakes with every word you mutter. he shakes his head, putting his hand on his forehead.

“i thought they wanted me,” he mumbles, his lip quivers. “but they lied to me, all of them. they—” he stammers, crying into his hands. you frown, holding him. although you didn’t quite understand the situation he was trying to describe, you understood how he was feeling. he buries his face into your neck, letting all his emotions out. you sit there on the floor with him, listening to him ramble about how they didn’t want him, how they all just had tricked him. he explains to you that he was an anomaly, a mistake — but you defend him, trying to reassuring him that he’s not. “miles, you’re the greatest thing that has happened to me. whatever those fuckers said about you, just— just screw them, okay?” he looks up at you, his eyes glossy. he sniffles, biting back another sob. “i don’t know what to do.” you tilt your head, “what do you mean?” you look at him, pleading for an answer. “i wasn’t supposed to be bitten by that spider.”

you scoff, eyes wide. “what are you talking about?” miles grabs your hand, wrapping it around his. “i’m a nobody, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.” he rasps out. you shake your head lightly. “what are you talking about?” he looks down in his lap, all the color had drained from his face, he looked like a ghost. “i can’t keep being spiderman if i was a mistake.” you mutter out a soft “no,” before grabbing his face, wiping away his tears. “it doesn’t matter what they said. who the hell are they to be telling you that you can’t be spiderman?” he doesn’t respond. he just stares down at his hands. “brooklyn needs you, your parents need you. i need you.”

he sniffles, leaning back into your neck, closing his eyes — just enjoying your warmth. you cradle him, letting him doze off in your arms.

please do not copy or repost my writings to any other sites !