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#Starstruck but going the other way
gaydiefingers · 10 months
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I agree they shouldn’t do a Dimension 20 animated show - the seasons are already so tightly produced and visually engaging while still having fun spontaneous energy that a scripted show wouldn’t
But graphic novel adaptations? I would buy shit that in a heartbeat
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starflungwaddledee · 2 months
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Ok, for an AU I'm cooking up, what if my OC Periwinkle (who is actually a fragment of Void Termina's power with the full extent of their memories and abilities, though they are nice, until you physically smack/smack talk/hurt the feelings her friends out of malice (she's able to sense emotions), then she will not hesitate to bonk you with a live explosive (expert with the Bomb copy ability) and "give you a proper lesson on not hurting my friends".) met your Galacta Knight? How would the situation play out? (Maybe Galacta comes to her universe then destroys her friend's cooking utensils, and she decides to spare the vandal no chill at all.)
hmmm i'm not suuuper comfortable answering questions like this, sorry! especially with folks who i don't know well... i don't really know your oc and i'm also not comfortable just being like "well he k-words (the oc)" to strangers who might not find that fun, yanno?
i think you'd have to characterise him in a way that suited you and your story/oc/au/needs, and then decide from there! like... what you described with the cooking utensils... no, my version of him wouldn't do anything like that haha. so you'd need to make your own charactisation where something like that worked!
i'd enjoy being That Person With The Evil Galacta Knight Characterisation and i'm happy to answer general questions about my personal hcs of him for sure, but i certainly don't have any sort of monopoly on making him nasty. i feel like there's actually a significant amount of evidence in canon itself for him to be Not Nice! so you can of course characterise your own version of him however you like too!!
the galacta knight that i personally headcanon (who is mostly present in awtdy au) is simultaneously chill and unchill. if someone minds their business and doesn't get in his way or interrupt his plans- which revolve around kirby and meta knight in awtdy au- he doesn't really care about them. this is kind of evident in the way he overlooks bandee's potential entirely.
however if they are a threat to him or his plans, he deals with them. he also sometimes takes a sadistic interest in figures he can project the things he hates onto. in our headcanons in particular he has a specific hatred of dark matter and mages, if that works for you and gives you anything to chew on! fwiw in the star allies arc of awtdy void termina is never released, because galacta knight lays eyes on hyness for 0.2 seconds before fileting him like a fish.
he's just not really a hesitater. and that takes most folks- who want to talk, who want to monologue, who maybe have the hope this can be sorted out- by enough surprise that he generally gets in there first.
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thevalleyisjolly · 2 years
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Hmm, thinking about Lucienne saying that for cerebro slugs, bodies are just bodies, and how throughout the season, most of the cerebro slugs we’ve come across have proven that true.  They don’t care about the bodies they take over, the people or the lives that once inhabited them.  And there’s nothing really more to it, they’re brain slugs!  It’s what they’re designed to do!  If they bother to look at their host’s memories, it’s just to blend in better, to make themselves less conspicuous.
And then there’s Skip.  Takes over Norman, and it's your typical brain slug situation at first.  The obligatory shenanigans while figuring out bodily mechanics, the cases of mistaken identity.  Except at some point, there's a shift.   Because Norman comes with so much baggage, Skip has to dive deep into his memories to understand why people are after this body.  And the more he searches, the more he understands about the person he's taken over, the person whose body this was.  All of a sudden, the body is not "just" a body. It was someone else once, and it was their way of engaging with the galaxy, for better or for worse, just like Skip is using it now.
Cerebro slugs need host bodies in order to participate in the galaxy.  That's what they're designed for, it's what their biology enables them to do.  But as Skip has come to realize, that's not all they have to do and it’s certainly not all they can do.  They can choose to try and understand the person who was there before, to think about the legacy (good or bad) that the person leaves behind, to decide how they will move forwards in light of the past, even if their decision is to start anew. 
And I think that's a pretty cool exploration of the whole brain slug trope, to go "Yes, as a cerebro slug, I need a host body to live, but the body does not have to be just a body.   It's not just about me, and it’s also not just about them.  Who they were mattered and who I am matters.  This body is now mine, but that doesn't make it just a meat sack or a tool for my purposes.  I was born to do this, I have the power to do whatever I want, and yet.  I choose to recognize the person who had this body before.  I choose to acknowledge their memory, their existence.  I choose to allow myself to be changed by this, to create something new, an identity, a sense of self that isn't about either of us, that's more than either of us alone.  There doesn’t have to be any more to this than just me and a body, but I choose for there to be more.  I choose to care.”  
#dimension 20#a starstruck odyssey#dimension 20 spoilers#aso spoilers#skip takamori#this isn't by any means coherent but i have a lot of thoughts about brain slugs and that mirror scene in episode 14#just. the other slugs take over bodies and either pretend to be that person or outright just use it for their own purposes#and then there's skip; who once pretended to be norman and who took over this body in valdrinor's eagerness to get away#but who is now something new; neither norman nor valdrinor but skip#and skip still has to deal with the consequences that both norman and valdrinor left behind; the baggage doesn't go away#but that's also part of it because it's about recognizing *all* the places you've come from and where you want to be now because of that#valdrinor and norman were both drifters; just existing in the galaxy without knowing who they were and where they wanted go#all valdrinor knew was that he didn't want to be part of the great emhatchening; all norman thought was that his whole life sucked#and now there's skip; who is both of them and neither of them; asserting 'i am skip'#he's taking on norman's troubles; confronting valdrinor's past; and trying to make a future for himself with his friends#what skip has done and is doing is in someways its own great emhatchening#because he's creating a new way to be a cerebro slug in the galaxy; a way to live and to co-exist with others#a way that isn't about conquest but creation; that isn't about using others for your purposes but allowing yourself to be changed by others#not exerting your will upon the galaxy but fully engaging with it and ~living~ in it#'it's a tough galaxy out there but somebody's got to live in it' and that's exactly what skip is doing
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lesbianaelwen · 4 months
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one of my favorite reoccurring motifs in d20 is the act of being rewarded for being repeatedly kind when it would be completely understandable to not be. like yes it is true that you should do good things without expecting reward, and Also it is likely you will in fact face negative consequences, and Also if someone is in a position of helping in return/ the help given allows them to then help then that can be incredibly worthwhile. does that make sense lol
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allpromarlo · 6 months
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i don't think the nfl ao3 girlies capitalize on the sheer potential of division rival pairings enough
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neoyuno · 1 year
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What if I wrote more of idol!wonwoo x producer!reader from the “no biting” universe? :o read tags for my idea ♥︎
#where svt (mostly jihoon) has been wanting to work with her and she has been wanting to work with them too (cause theyre great and also#cause she has a crush on wonwoo. not knowing wonwoo also developed a crush on the producer jihoon wont stop talking about. cause he gave#your music a listen and he was like ‘damn… this some good shit’ and understood why the other guys love your work but also became interested#in you bc youre pretty and talented and exude powerful energy duh! so he got immersed into watching your content. from mvs to interviews to#your little producing workshops where he became fond of the way your eyes glistened while talking aboit music. and then one day they have a#comeback and the company tells them that they got in contact with a huge foreign producer that been wanting to work with them so they are#like??? and they are told that the producer would arrive in a couple of hours while the recording interns get the studio ready to fir her#workflow. wonwoo notices the set up is similar to one you had shown in one of your ‘a day in the stufio’ vlogs but he brushed it off bc you#did mention it’s sort of the standard at your record label. so after a couple of hours they sll sit at the recording studio waiting for the#new dude they will work with. EXCEPT!!! its not a dude…#as soon as the door opens they are greeted with the woman they had only listened through their earphones and seen through the tv#they are all so starstruck and excited and start greeting you and hollering and asking questions… but wonwoo just sits back because#WHAT THE FUCK??? HOW ARE YOU THIS GORGEOUS IN PERSON??? he was in shock at how angelical and ethereal you actually were#he doesn’t snap out of it until he hears the most beautiful voice call out his name. you greet him shyly and he doesn’t miss how your hand#trembled when you shook his matching one… the obvious blush on your face masked behind the weather being hot/cold. but you dont show the#fact that you both felt a spark as your hands joined… then you all get to talking about how the album is gonna go and how you#want to give them absolute creative liberty as you are not there to lead but to work together with them. conversations flow until jeonghan#asks where youll be staying for the whole 3 months… to which you reply that you have been looking for a hotel/airbnb but they are all#unavailable bc of the season. so mingyu being the sweetheart and oblivious baby he is…. offers you the spare room in his and wonwoos house#to which the boys all agree and you decline (politely and shyly) at first bc living with wonwoo????? uhhh???#that would mean he would see you with your bed hair and you wete not allowing that!!! but then once wonwoo said it was okay bc they would#love the company (even tho his ass was sweating bc the prettiest girl in the world would be there everyday!!)#you agreed and so that’s how your love story starts (or well… your friendship that then will bloom into the relationship in ‘no biting’#TADA! SHOULD I??? IDK??? SHOULD I??#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fluff#can yall tell what my career is? LMAO#manifestation bish ♥︎
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arminsumi · 6 months
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THE HORNIEST
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex
Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(
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Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.
Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."
Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak — and he licks his lips to wet them.
Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.
Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."
Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.
Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.
Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."
Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.
Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.
Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.
Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.
Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.
Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.
Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.
Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.
Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.
Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.
Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.
Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.
Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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satoruhour · 7 months
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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !
a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….
wc: 4k
warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.
you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.
aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 
the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.
“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.
“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”
gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.
“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.
“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.
gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.
“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.
“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.
“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.
there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.
“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—
professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.
✶ GETO
you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.
it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.
it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.
you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.
“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.
“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”
everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).
geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.
“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.
“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”
as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—
“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.
“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.
“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.
a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”
geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”
“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.
how could he possibly say no?
✶ NANAMI
“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”
nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”
you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.
as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?
it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.
“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.
you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…
“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.
“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.
“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—
“what were you gonna say, baby?”
you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.
“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”
✶ TOJI
it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.
he would know — you got full marks the other time. 
“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.
toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.
his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.
your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.
at least now, you’ll make him.
toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.
your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.
that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”
you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”
“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.
“and how did you know i work here?”
“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”
toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.
“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.
“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.
“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.
you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.
“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.
“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”
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sharkieboi · 1 year
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hi okay so i’m rewatching Starstruck and
a) being able to binge it as the Complete Experience with the Adventuring Party(s) right after each episode is very great and I like being able to revisit the story this way
b) I actually think this is my favorite season of character art in general, and in particular Sundry Sidney’s portrait is no contest my absolute favorite character art of all of D20
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alatusprinz · 9 months
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when you call him good boy .
characters: wanderer/scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, xiao
genre: smut, (warning of explicit words choice)
-
Scaramouche/Wanderer sneers at you mockingly when the words fall from your mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he snapped his hips into your behind roughly, deliberately thrusting in so deep so your back arches with your face buried into the pillow. He hated when your needy moans were silenced when it wasn’t on his accord, making him reach out to grip onto your hair roughly to pull your body up while holding onto your neck with his other hand, forcing you to find balance in an awkward position with your knees on the mattress and back against his chest. His hips never halted one bit, still thrusting in relentlessly into your drenched walls as your mind blanked out from the dizzying stimulation. Tightening his grip on your neck, he leans into your ear, almost purring in a sickeningly sweet voice. 
"Fuck, you like that don't you? Like being used like a little dolly for me?" You whimpered weakly as your scalp slightly burned from his tight grip, your body moving to meet his slams involuntarily from the force of his each thrust. It always felt like this, almost too good, too overwhelming from the borderline ruthless way he fucked you. As your broken moans persisted and he wanted to see you break down more, let go of your hair with a satisfied smirk and instead held onto both your wrists to pull your body back to meet his hips, manhandling you and taking you as he pleased.
His grip on your wrists tightened as pulled them back to slam your ass to his hips over and over, your cunt almost sore and aching from how he used you like a toy for his pleasure.
“Yeah? Fuck, call me that again, let me know how much of a good boy I am being.” 
-
Kazuha’s gaze was always starstruck and almost drunk in love when he was staring at you as he slipped into your snug walls over and over. He was so hypnotized by you, completely allured more every second you two spent together. And he never knew he could fall even deeper until you looked at him with that sultry gaze, mouth open and making the prettiest sounds for him, and called him your good boy. Your good boy. An infatuated smile blossoming on his face, his cock pressed in deep, then he moved in a grinding motion slightly as you squirmed and mewled in pleasure. He was looking at you with heart in his eyes, completely enchanted and greedy to see more of your beauty. Nobody could ever compare or hold a candle to how beautiful you looked under him when he made love to you.
That’s right- he almost whimpers at your word as his hold on your waist tightened, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. His kiss was needy, desperate to feel you in his arms, if there was anything in this world that he couldn’t lose ever, it would undoubtedly be you. Kazuha’s heart feels like it would leap out any moment now as he rolls his hips into yours, trying his best to go sensual and slow although his patience was running thin every time your breathy moans graced his ears. His lips lowered to your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and he whispered. 
“All yours my love, all yours… Your good boy, yours…” 
-
A soft moan leaves Albedo’s mouth in pleasant surprise at the praise he hears from you. His inquisitive gaze never leaves your face, in fact his sight never seemed to focus on anything else other than your pretty expressions when he made love to you. The way your eyes fluttered shut when his tip brushes over your sensitive spot (one he knows all too well by now), the differences in your moans when he grinds into you, slowly pushes as deep as he can to drag upon your tender spot, or when he sometimes indulge his greed and slams into you harder and faster as your nails scratched into his back- all of your precious reactions are recorded in his mind like a rewound tape. 
You called him good boy- his pupils dilated visibly if you had half the mind to notice, and suddenly he was all the more determined to please you more. His mouth latched onto your nipple, one hand gripping onto your waist as he rutted inside your warm walls, pleasured groans leaving his lips while he sucked on harder. You swore sight blurred as his other hand was suddenly rubbing over your clit, circling and flicking the way he knew you moaned the prettiest for him. He knew your body better than you did by now, Albedo took silent pride in that fact. And he intended on being a good boy for you every day and night, whenever you desire him.  
- Xiao almost gets too pleasure-driven from the moment your lips are on his more sensually, from the second your touches turn suggestive. His eyes are always clouded over with lust, desire and admiration towards you, he is hardly even lucid when he finally pushes into your eager walls, he can never control himself fully once he had a taste of you- all that mattered to him was you, your moans, and your face twisting in pleasure. That’s why when you first called him your good boy, he didn’t even hear it. His one hand was pressing yours to the mattress, fingers entwined as he rammed inside needily, it felt so good, he wanted to be buried inside your snug walls forever- this insatiable lust transfers over to his actions because as much as he tries, he can’t seem to be too gentle and from the way you moan sharply each time he slams in and his cock rubs against your insides just right, Xiao couldn’t find it in him to slow down anyways.
His fingers laced with yours on one hand, indirectly holding you down in place with how with each thrust made your linked hands sink down onto the sheets, and his other holding onto your hip so tight it felt like it would bruise,. You muttered out a weak “good boy” once more- this time he heard it all too well. He groaned in pleasure at your words, at your beauty or your tight cunt he couldn’t tell, all he knew was he had to give you more, make you take more of him. His lips are on your neck and his sharp teeth sank down on the side, his lustful panting and deep moans ringing in your ear. Your wince of pain was drowned out in the high-pitched whiny moan when his claws unintentionally dug onto your hips as he forced your walls to take all of him, slamming his hips to yours desperately like he would die if he didn’t engrave the feeling of your warmth around him inside his mind. Your sweet moans always made his heart flutter, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bit down harder on your neck, rutting into you as though to remind you that you’re all his, and he’d be your ‘good boy’ always and forever.
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wonryllis · 3 months
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HIGH ON HEELS FOR YOU.
────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.
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( NOTES. ) enhypen as starstruck bois. fluff. fem!centered. lowercase intended. unedited. 860wc. requested. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests open!
⋆ ─ LEE HEE-SEUNG. 이희승 boy can't take his eyes off your feet quite literally. from the moment you bring them out he's staring at the pair, watching your pretty hands put your pretty feet in them, tying the little pretty ribbons around your pretty ankles.
"baby, are you wearing that one?" heeseung asks, his brown orbs glued to the pastel green pencil heels you grab from your closet. slowly moving closer and sitting beside you on the vanity couch as you put them on carefully,"it's so beautiful, it even goes with your nails!" you laugh at the enthusiasm in his voice, everytime you wear heels he just babbles so many compliments.
⋆ ─ PARK JONG-SEONG. 박종성 jay is relatively composed even though in his mind all he can think about is how beautiful you look in those blue heels he just bought for you the other day. for him it looks even prettier because he got them for you, he choose it for you.
"aren't these the ones i got you from milan?" jay walks over to the full mirror in your closet as you admire how the baby blue wedges look on you, his hands circling around your waist and chin resting at the crook of your neck. "i knew you'd look so so pretty in them," you nod giggling when he press a fluttering kiss to your exposed shoulder before admiring you in the mirror.
⋆ ─ SIM JAE-YUN. 심재윤 you best believe he's the one putting them on for you. eyes sparkling the way they compliment your dress, oh also he putting the dress on you too. he just wants to be the one to doll you up his pretty little girl who just needs to sit and look pretty.
"let me choose!" jake rushes past you into the closet, quickly sliding open the doors and going through the bunch of dresses and heels you own. when he finds the dress he wants, he helps you put it on through every step. as for the heels he goes down on his knees, guides you feet in them and ties the pretty white lace around your ankle,"like a real doll, my doll, so pretty,"
⋆ ─ PARK SUNG-HOON. 이희승 he literally has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. always walks behind you cause he lovess the way your hips sway from side to side when you walk in your heels. and the way you look so confident he's down bad for it.
"angel, you're so beautiful. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?" sunghoon rambles walking just a step behind and pausing a second too long at the doors of the elevator as you get on first. at the party he's literally gatekeeping you from others,"can't believe you're all mine," sneaking little neck kisses and jaw kisses here and there to show you off at the same time.
⋆ ─ KIM SUN-WOO. 김선우 he's such a hype man for you, always encouraging you to put on your pretty heels for him. when you get tired he'll always offer to piggyback you or carry you princess style. also loves holding you close by your lower back, such an opportunity for him.
"my baby is always a beauty," sunoo gushes having his hand around your lower back as you walk through the party you're at. gushing and asking everyone you two talk to "isn't my girl so pretty?" and how lucky he is to have you. "we'll be leaving, my baby is tired," when he notices your discomfort, bending down and signalling you to get on him,"come on, your prince will bring you home,"
⋆ ─ YANG JUNG-WON. 양정원 you can see it all in his face, the way he's at a loss for words, the way he moves around you everything. but he also worries if you might twist your ankle or trip so always holds your hands and leads anywhere and everywhere you go.
"here, hold on to me love," jungwon offers his arm when you reach a pair of steps that are too steep. and immediately after intertwining his fingers with you to guide you safe as he walks just a step ahead supporting you. "you look so pretty in heels but you know i dont wan' you hurt," he says pressing a kiss to your forehead and then after to your lips, tightening his grip.
⋆ ─ NISHIMURA RI-KI. 西村力 if he's not saying anything just know he loves it. and if he starts complaining that he'll not carry you back if you get tired just know he'll take off your heels for you and make you wear his shoes while he holds onto them and walks back bare foot.
"there i saved you princess," riki grins slyly, holding tight onto your waist after you accidentally trip on open air and grass. his hand stays there for a moment as he helps you stand straight, tucking a strand of hair that fell on your eyes. he immediately scoops you up and places you on a nearby bench. then taking off his shoes and your heels,"put them on pls, hm?"
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
No one sees a cleaning lady.
Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.
It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.
She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.
It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.
His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.
He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.
Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.
She's mesmerized.
It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.
The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.
She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.
The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.
The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.
It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.
He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.
It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.
"König. Would you mind?"
The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.
"Entschuldigung."
He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.
"English, please..."
"My apologies."
The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.
König…
König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.
König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.
He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.
"You're running low again?"
"Eh… Ja."
He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.
"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."
He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.
His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.
"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.
He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.
"Hier."
"Why thank you."
He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.
"I'll be going then."
But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.
“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.
. . . . .
She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.
No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.
No one sees a cleaning lady.
No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.
But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.
And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.
The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.
He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.
Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.
Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.
He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.
She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.
The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.
His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.
And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?
And then he…
He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck-
She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.
She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.
. . . . .
"Hey."
If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.
"Hi."
Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.
"You here for more coffee?"
He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.
"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"
"Did you like what you saw?"
Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.
"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.
"I'm– sorry, what?"
"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."
She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.
"Jesus…"
The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.
. . . . .
There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.
What the f-
König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.
"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.
"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.
He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.
And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.
Has he picked them from outside…?
"I thought you liked me."
His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.
"I do. I do like you."
His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"
Nope. Big mistake.
"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Ok. I'll be going then."
He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.
“Wha-… König, please, wait.”
He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.
"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.
He merely shrugs.
"Never had any friends."
For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.
"I can be your friend."
Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–
"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"
She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.
Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.
"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."
König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.
She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.
"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.
The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.
"Just friends, then."
. . . . .
It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.
Her new friend.
She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.
He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.
But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.
He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.
She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.
"How are you?"
His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.
"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"
"Sehr gut."
Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.
And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.
"You look nice."
But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.
She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.
"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.
"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you take it off before bed?"
Oh god.
That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.
Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?
Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.
"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…
Friends, friends. We're just friends.
"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"
"No. Austrian."
"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."
"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.
"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.
"Ok."
He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.
"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…
"You really want to know?"
"Sure."
"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.
"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.
"Uh... I'm sure it is."
"Do you regret that you asked?"
"No. Well, perhaps a little."
He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.
"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."
"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.
"Do you like knives?"
Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.
"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."
Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.
"What would it take to be more than friends?"
His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.
"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"
"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.
As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.
She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.
"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"
"Ok."
He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.
In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.
She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.
She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.
“Jesus–"
By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.
"How did you get in?"
He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.
"You asked me to visit you."
He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.
"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."
"Sorry."
If you shrug I swear I’m going to…
"Where do you wish to go?"
He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.
She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.
"Do you like Chinese?"
He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.
"I need to change. Could you turn around?"
The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.
But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.
König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.
"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.
The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.
He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.
He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'
What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.
He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.
"A bit, yeah."
"Is it because of the hood?"
His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.
"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.
He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.
"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.
"I…I guess so."
"You think I'm weird, don't you."
His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.
"Um… I… Uh-"
"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.
"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.
"Did you like what you saw?"
"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"
"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."
"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"
"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.
She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.
"Am I harassing you?"
Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.
There's bitterness... Exclusion.
Loneliness.
"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.
"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.
"Do you want me to stop?"
In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.
"König… Are you lonely?"
He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.
"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.
"...Yes."
Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.
"You don't have to be."
There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.
She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.
5K notes · View notes
verstappen-cult · 27 days
Note
hi! since you’re requests are open and this is my first time asking, could you do prompt 19 from list three, “let me-- adjusts your hair while cupping your face--and we're good to go. shall we? :) "
low key not sure if I’m doing this right but can you do this with oscar or even charles!
PROMPT DRABBLES ★ CL16
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FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ "let me-- *adjusts your hair while cupping your face*-- and we're good to go. shall we?”
“baby,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice from outside the room. “we’re gonna be late!”
you look at the time and you are, in fact, just in time. like you need to leave in the next five minutes or you are not gonna make it to your reservation. you take your coat and heels while trying your remember if you’re forgetting something.
“i didn’t know what to wear.” the look you give him is enough to make him forget about being late. “but i’m ready now, just let me…” you sit on one of the barstools to put on your heels.
when you get up, you look directly at your boyfriend before doing a twirl, showing the little black dress you chose to wear for your anniversary.
“should we go now?” you try to hide the grin making its way on your face.
charles looks a little starstruck for a few seconds, but then he’s taking two careful steps towards you, with the most pretty and sweet smile you’ve ever seen.
“let me,” he cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek ever so softly while he lifts his other hand to adjust a strand of your hair. “yeah we’re good to go.”
you forget how to breathe for a second and the look charles gives you tells you it was exactly the reaction he was expecting.
“fuck it,” you whisper before jumping into his arms, crashing your lips against his.
well, you’re already late, it doesn’t matter if you lose the reservation. all you can think about is kissing your boyfriend until he doesn’t remember his name or where he’s standing anymore.
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chiyoso · 4 months
Note
chiyo ik ur taking a break but i need... i need a jjk fan to hear this
,,,,,, g g g g gojo satoru and you getting married but ,,, but,,,, you're so irresistible you both had,,, yk,,, in the car while going to the church... only wearing your veil too....
WAIT IS THAT BAD
on another note i do hope your college life treats u well cause... yeah <33 i read that you're on medication? i wish you a get well soon mwamwamwa and nothing but luck and fortune as always hehehe
“wedding day, breeding day”
j. kaisen : gojo satoru.
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gojo satoru, the strongest, and gojo satoru, the impatient. he always was, and that impatience will not stop him from dicking you down on your way to the church, just a car ride away before the event, the event of your wedding with him.
▶NOTE. i can't resist the idea, and i wanna get used to taking requests so... i'm gonna use your prompt to practice my mindset, thank you for checking up on me jiji ilysfm <33!!
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“y-you just... you just couldn't wait, could you?”
“how the—fuck, how could i mamas?”
the poor driver's cheeks and ears flushed a sinful pink hearing your broken sobs, now debating if he shouldn't partake in guilt, or... keep the window down to listen to the sounds of sex behind him.
you whisper, or attempt to. “the driver- ’t-toru the driver's—” “—don't care, don't care, don't care.” he speaks out with every thrust, his moans growing and mixing with yours.
the limousine continues to drive, to the church, but in comparison to earlier's driving, it had slowed down quite a bit, benefitting your soon-to-be-husband's stability. your hamstrings were pressed against his ruffled, messed up torso, the rest of your legs hung over his shoulders.
“it's-... y-you know it's bad to see your partner before—s-shit!” you moan out arching your head against the window, letting satoru see your face.
you gave up the act once satoru brought a hand down between your legs, his thumb beginning to rub your pretty clit with a mischievous, slurred smile. “my clan wanted the publicity for this shit,”
he pauses his movement, his cock buried into yours, he could feel you tense, clenching him, feeling that lubricated twitching around him.
you look up to him dazed and puzzled, and he curls himself forward, towering over your seated form. “shocking news! the gojo heir, marrying!?”
he grins, attempting to pull his cock right out of you slowly, you were just so tight, so warm, holding onto him and his needy cock like that.
“s-shit baby,” he moves one of your legs down while he continued to hold the other over his shoulder. satoru's free hand gets occupied by his cock, stroking himself while you bit down your bottom lip to the sexy sight.
“stuck-ups, all of them,” he says bitterly with a grunt, but that bitterment melts once he moves his hips forwards again, rubbing the underside of his aching cock above your leaky pussy, stimulating hot pleasure onto your clit.
you whimper, seeing him prepare his cock again to enter inside you, but the limousine comes to a halt. his eyes dart up from you, towards the window behind; annoying, blinding camera flashes, clueless happy people, starstrucked paparazzi—and he grins once more.
“look mamas, they're all so damn eager for us,”
just like both of your warm cores, twitching against each other. “prying, dirty fucks,” he hisses once he prys open your downed leg wider to the side, giving him a gate to heaven itself.
flash one, flash two, three, and more. the amount of times a flash blinds the two of you from outside the limousine, he thrusts his cock inside simultaneously, urgently, his cock getting sucked up by your insides while embracing your leg over his shoulder. “th-that's it baby, just like that, take me all, take me all,” he sucks up a shaky inhale.
“fuck—fuck—fuck,” satoru slurrs out with every thrust, and all you could do was pant heavily, a hand covering your mouth to muffle your soft mewling. “gonna cum baby? you gonna cum? i can feel—i feel your insides taking me in so well,”
“shit mamas,” warmth coiled behind his spine, satoru's thrusts became sloppier, frantic, chasing his satisfaction, unsteady and throaty exhales more pronounced. “play with your dirty pussy,”
“play—fuuuck, fuck i'm gonna-” both of his hands clung around on your leg, hazy eyes now closing to focus on that increasing sensation of heat.
gritted teeth, allowing a small stream of drool to fall on the corner of his lips, and your body caved in to the discomfort of the position, laying limp on your side, with your face towards the front of the car, where you met the driver's eyes briefly on the rearview mirror. “s-so good ’toru, so good so g-...”
“gonna cum—gonna cum, gonna—fucking—cum, gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” he speaks in between each pound inside you, his muscles tensing up.
“gonna make you my wife with this cum-” he puts your leg down, repositioning himself frantically by laying you straight against the seat, inserting his cock inside you again once your pussy was infront of him. “s-sator-” “fuck! i'm cumming baby i'm-”
“fuuuck,” your walls clench around his cock, thrusting in one final time, flooding his hot cum inside your creamy cunt, mixing in with yours.
“p-pretty—fucking—pussy,” satoru overwhelms himself during his high, shuddering in each repeated thrusts, while you spasmed violently in your orgasm. “all mine, all mine, all fucking mi—”
flash, flash, and flash. “ah,” the door swings open merrily, muted noises from outside now, loud, blaring. multiple gasps and cussing simultaneously heard, a blinding light shining on your breeding session, on your soon-to-be husband's bare ass anyways.
annoyed, but quick, satoru removes his jacket, tossing it infront of your face, along with hiding your torso. he knew you were too weak to react, let alone cover yourself for some decency, and what kind of future spouse will he be if he let his pretty, and dazed wife be ridiculed over this?
he can see it all. not only curses, but tabloids, tabloid after tabloid, 'the gojo clan's heir, claiming a taboo before his wedding'. articles of public indency, the act of premarital sex! tarnishing the prestigious name and reputation of his clan!
his god-awful, forsaken clan.
satoru clicked his tongue, his face once pleasured, now contorting to repulsion, disgust, looking over to his shoulder for the paparazzi to take photos of his flushed, red side profile.
his hands subconsciously move down to your waist, holding you close to him while you recovered slowly, placing his badly placed attention back to yours again.
“hey baby,” he pulls out slowly, practicing retraint from grunting, biting down his bottom lip, still feeling your insides hold his cock tightly.
“h-hm?” satoru makes sure you're hidden infront of his thankfully large frame, properly placing his jacket that he gave you covering your entire bare torso, leaning down to give you tender kisses along the stream lines of your tears.
“hmhm, pretty, pretty girl,” he towers over you protectively, his thumb making circles along your abdomen lovingly.
“you don't mind if we marry with papers instead, right baby?”
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NOT AT ALL SATORU. NOT AT ALL. I DONT MIND AT ALL.
taglist. @v3lv3tf0x @ainescribe @wanderingconstellations @painted-hills @screampied @meowzfordayz @deathstardiary @sleep-deprivedracoon @ciarchivez @k1an4a @pixieskie @ruanais
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 11 months
Text
Charles Leclerc x pop star!Reader - Social Media AU
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, and 1,064,382 others
charles_leclerc pole ➡️ prize
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yourusername keep the momentum rolling 👏
charles_leclerc for you … always
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if they are flirting or if charles is just starstruck and awkward
feralferrari probably a mix of both
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,072,941 others
charles_leclerc i am very calm about this
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yourusername sounds like something someone who is not very calm about this would say 🤨
charles_leclerc calm is actually my middle name
yourusername isn’t it marc hervé perceval?
charles_leclerc that is a common misconception
pierregasly there are many words i would use to describe you right now but calm is not one of them
carlossainz55 he screamed so loud i thought a crazy fan broke into his driver’s room
charles_leclerc stop lying to embarrass me, mates
scuderiaferrari but they’re not lying. admin heard you screaming from the other side of the motorhome too
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, y/nnation, and 1,293,574 others
charles_leclerc beau. incroyable. fabuleux. magnifique. iconique. fantastique 💜
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yourusername hope it didn’t disappoint
arthur_leclerc are you kidding? we physically had to drag him backstage after the concert was over because he refused to accept it was finished
charles_leclerc i should have left you at home, arthur
charles_leclerc and a y/n y/l/n concert could never ever disappoint. you made me completely speechless
lorenzotl it’s true. he forgot how to speak french, italian, and english so we had to use charades to communicate
y/nnation she is so ethereal 😍
scuderiared y/n and charles in one place is dangerous levels of perfection
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,348,895
charles_leclerc never thought anything could possibly be sweeter than winning in monaco until i got my reward for winning in monaco
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yourusername and with such a sweet audience too 😘
y/nnation how does it feel to live my dream?
stillbejeweled the things i would do for a private y/n y/l/n concert 😵‍💫
baddieblood the things i would do to go to a regular y/n y/l/n concert. all the tickets were sold out before i could buy any 🥲
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yourusername
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Liked by charles_leclerc, f1wagupdates, and 4,852,936 others
yourusername i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings
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charles_leclerc i’m so in love that i might stop breathing
yourusername you make me feel the same exact way
yourusername but please don’t stop breathing or else a hoard of very angry ferrari fans will be after me
y/nnation this just made me happier than i was at my own engagement 🫣
f1wagupdates i’ve been dreaming of this day since they first interacted online
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc it's a love story, baby, just say yes
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yourusername it's you and me, that's my whole world
charles_leclerc all's well that ends well to end up with you
scuderiaferrari we are so happy for you both and are definitely not fangirling (we are totally fangirling) ❤️
f1 from pop princess to grid princess 🙌
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sluttyenthusiast · 3 months
Text
Not So Bad
Felix Catton x Fem!Reader, Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, Oliver in general, smoking? idk, not proofread 😓
(It’s been *checks watch* almost 8 months but i’m back!! I missed writing but I find it so physically and mentally exhausting and demanding but I did it!! I finally wrote something!)
“I invited a friend over,” Felix spoke out, smiling down at you as you steady yourself.
You, on the other hand, find yourself rolling your eyes as you grip his arm, holding yourself up as you both walk back inside from your nightly endeavors.
“Felix, babe, you always do this and it never ends well.”
The cigarette that once rested on his lips is now being held between his fingers, shrugging as he offers it to you.
“I know, but I have a feeling about this one.” You laugh out at his words, taking the cigarette from him as he kisses your forehead.
“I’m not trusting you until it it’s been proven to me,” A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest as he takes the cigarette back from you,
“Whatever you say pretty,”
As you both continue to wander around outside under the light of the moon you find yourself with your head on his chest, giggling with him while staring up the the constellations in the night skies that resemble the glimmer in his eyes.
You eventually find your way back inside, quietly making your way back to your rooms, bypassing Farleigh, who simply raised his eyebrows at your obnoxious sex hair and Felix’s discarded suit jacket and tie.
Felix led you back to your room where he stood hovered in your door with his long arms laid up against the doorframe as he watched you get undressed before changing into your sheer nightgown.
You knew what he was waiting for, almost laughing at his mannerisms as you make your way over to him, watching as he ducked his head down to kiss you.
When he finishes he pulls back, bidding you a goodnight as he stumbles off to his own room, leaving you with a starstruck smile on your face as you go to bed.
Upon waking up you had noticed a certain buzz in the atmosphere as you pulled yourself out of bed, slipping on a robe and slippers before making your way downstairs.
As you approached the table for breakfast you had noticed no one was there, to your surprised, before quickly remembering it was the day of Felix’s new friend arrival.
You shuffled to the living room, approaching the rest of them. Felix opened his arms up for you as you scrambled to go sit in his lap.
As he pulled you down into his lap he leaned to whisper in your ear,
“You missed his arrival darling, you slept in so much, must’ve had a marvelous night to put you to sleep like that.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you leaned back into his chest, looking up at him before whispering back.
“I’d say mediocre at best,” He rolls his eyes dramatically, feigning hurt by your words.
“Well as I was saying, he’s upstairs getting settled so you should meet him by dinner.” You nodded up at him, placing a kiss on his cheek as you settled into his chest.
You had slept through breakfast and lunch when you had woken up, so you didn’t hesitate to jump up to get ready for dinner, after you had dressed yourself, you found your way to Felix’s room, not even having the chance to knock before he opens the door.
“You know you never have to knock, lovey.”
“Just trying to be nice,” He smiles at you,
“Alright, we should get going, everyone is already down there.
Walking into the dining room, ready to take a seat, when you had noticed your usual spot next to Felix was now taken up by a dark haired boy with piercing eyes.
You simply shot him a look, before pulling out a chair across from him to sit at, causing muffled laughter to leave Venetia and Farleigh.
Elspeth cleared her throat, trying to resolve some tension,
“So, Oliver, how is Oxford for you?”
Oliver, you thought to yourself, makes sense
Oliver, as you learned his name, shuffled as he set down his cutlery, a loud clank as he does so.
“Well, I am actually enjoying it,” He wrings his heads as he tries to form a sentence, and before a second passes, you speak up.
“So Oli, is it okay if I call you that? Anyway, how’d you meet our dear Felix here?” Your eyes bore into his, trying to read him, not completely trusting his presence here yet.
“Well, I, uh,” Before he had a chance to finish Felix cut in, conveying you to stop.
“Well he practically saved my life, it was pure fate.”
As Felix went on to retell the story of their meeting in full detail you continued to to stare at him, almost trying to see through him.
Before you had even realized dinner was over and Felix was once again leading you to your room, going through the same routine every night.
After you kissed him goodnight you flop down onto your bed, rolling onto your back as you pick up the book you had been reading, flipping it open and determined to read a few chapters before you drift off.
As you make yourself comfortable, you has swore you had heard a creak of the floorboards outside you door. Placing you book down, you listen intently before settling back into bed and brushing it off.
You continue to read a few chapters, not noticing the dark figure that now stood in your doorway, with your door creaked open, what finally ripped your attention away from the words on the pages was the slow squeak of your door hinges as your door was pushed open.
Your head jerked towards the door, noticing the figure as you sit up, throwing you legs over the edge of you bed, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Hello?”
“Y’know I have just the right to be here as you.” Oliver made his way into your room with slow footsteps.
“Oliver? What’re you doing here?” As he approached your bed he stopped, staring down at you,
“You should really try to be nicer to our dear Felix’s guest.” Before you, Oliver drops to his knees, hands on your thighs as he looks into your eyes, not breaking eye contact.
You find yourself stumbling over your words, trying to think of anything as his hands run up your nightgown.
“Oliver. Why’re you in my room?” Your voice shakes as he lays his head on your thighs, looking up at you.
“Just wanted to make sure you know where I stand.”
“What do you-“ you were quickly cut off by the sensation of his fingers on your clit,
“Oh!”
You hand found his way into his hair, a reflex of some sort, moaning as he worked his fingers.
“Look at me.” Your eyes found his as he watched your face, fingers working diligently in your cunt, pulling you closer in.
Just as you felt yourself about to reach your peak, he pulled back, placing his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them.
You watched him while your chest roses and falls , soft pants leaving your lips.
“Taste so sweet, like a peach.” He pulls himself back, never taking his eyes off of yours, as he pulls your underwear down your legs.
“You need to know that i’m no threat, angel.”
You watch him with your mouth gaping, soft whine’s coming from your throat as he pulls your thighs apart, shoving his head under your nightgown.
You feel your legs tense up around his head as his tongue prods at your slick entrance, nose bumping into your clit.
Your hands find your way to his hair again, grasping it in your fist as you watch him lap at your wet pussy.
He keeps his eyes on you as he pushes a finger into you, lips still on your clit while he works up, pushing you to the edge.
You pull at his hair, thighs clenching around his head as your thighs tremble in need, desperately rutting against his face as you feel yourself approaching your orgasm.
He slips in another finger, curling it to where you need it the most, groaning against your cunt as you clench around his fingers.
“Such a fucking slut, giving yourself up to someone you don’t even know.”
As the words left his lips you let go, covering your mouth as your body shook against him, reaching your peak.
While you brought yourself back down and opened your eyes, Oliver stood before you, placing a rough kiss on your lips before sauntering off back to his room, leaving you to think over what just happened.
The early morning sun shines through your window as pull yourself out of bed, thinking over last night again in your head as you made your way to breakfast.
Making your way to your seat you stop near Felix, leaning down to softly whisper in his ear,
“Maybe Oliver isn’t so bad.” before taking your seat across from him
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