#and i was like. 'if i closed my eyes rn i could not describe what you look like' and they were like 'ok what eye color do i have'

[caninecowboy]

guess what time it is!!! time to be sappy on main

[metalbuckaroo]

The Chase

Summary// "we had a deal, my dove. You promised."

AU// WinterSoldier!Bucky x F!Reader

Warnings// chasing kink, unprotected sex, smut, a yank to the hair, cursing, use of petnames- dove, dovey

Note// I think I'm a little rusty, but I'm also beyond tired rn so it could also be that ehsudienaua. This is a part two to the Black Mail fic I did for kinktober many moons ago

"Who is he?" He was everywhere. His gruff voice echoing through the trees, surrounding you as you frantically looked around. Trying to find a way out of this situation. "I don't share, dove."

He was right behind you, your legs working before your mind to carry you in the opposite direction. Lungs burning from the cold night air as his dark chuckle faded in the distance.

But, he was quick and quiet. Moving just as fast as you could look over your shoulder before slamming into what could only be described as a wall of pure muscle, sending you falling back onto the leaf covered ground.

"Please- James, please. I'm sorry." You pleaded, tears stinging your eyes as he stood over you. The same mask Hydra forced him to wear covering the lower portion of his face.

He kneeled down, denim blues dark with something you couldn't place. "I won't ask again. Who. Is. He."

"Your way out! Please, just let me go. I still have a week!" The metal of his left hand gleamed in the moonlight as he reached his hand out to grasp your chin. Pupils blown and touch gentle.

"I'll give you a headstart. You have three minutes, dovey." You just stared at him wide eyed, chest heaving and heart hammering against your ribcage. "Run."

As if on instinct, you scrambled to your feet, trying to find your footing to dart back into the darkness the trees provided.

You knew you couldn't go much longer, your aching muscles sending pains through your legs each time your feet would hit the ground. There was no use in running anyways, he'd always win.

"We had a deal, my dove. You promised." You swore you could hear the grit of his teeth when you'd stopped, so close to giving in as you leaned your forehead against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Fingers curving against the wood. "You're just like them."

"No, I'm not." You heaved, trying to take a moment to catch your breath.

"I saw you with him at that diner. You're suppose to be mine."

His voice was getting closer, making you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to take some of the attention away from the burning in your legs before taking off again.

Though, you didn't make it far before fingers curled in the back of your hair. Crying out when he barely yanked to make you stop.

"I was doing what I was told. You want out, I have to find someone who can do that." You tried to reason, words not coming easy from the way he had your head craned back. His warm right arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him.

"Lies." He seethed, calloused fingers slipping under your shirt. "I've dreamt of you. Craved you. Now I finally have you again. I've been so cold without you my sweet dove."

Your body gave in the moment nimble fingers flicked the button of your pants open.

There was something twisted inside of you that liked the chase, the constant looming feeling you'd had over the weeks since you'd last seen him- like he was just lying in wait for the right moment.

It was hard to think of much else than the last time you'd saw him. The drag of his fingers against your skin, the way his lips seared kisses to your throat- much like now, cold and warm hands dragging against your sides as your fingers worked at the tactical belt that kept you from what you were truly after.

The ground freezing against your bare back not slowing you from getting what you craved.

It seemed to take ages for James to notice your struggle, his hands replacing your own to easily pull open the buckle as yours went to unclip the mask. Carelessly tossing it into the leaves to pull his lips to yours.

The hunger behind his kiss fueled you, your fingers weaving through his long locks and legs going around his waist to pull him closer. Swallowing breaths and quiet grunts as his hand fumbled to grasp his shaft.

The shudder that rolled through your body as he pressed into you was enough to send your mind reeling, everything else around you fading away and your senses overwhelmed by only him as he found his pace. Short, hard thrusts rocking your body- sending shocks of pure pleasure shooting down your legs.

You'd missed how full he made you feel. An emptiness left behind in his absence, his touch electric as he groped at your chest and left sloppy kisses along your throat. Deep moans vibrating against the skin, mixing with your whines in the cold night air.

"Can feel you milking me, dovey. Make a mess, show me who I belong to." James panted, drinking in the pleasure drunk scrunch of your face as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Wedging his arm under you for a better angle, he didn't change his pace. Taking the opportunity to slot his lips over yours when you cried out in bliss, swallowing the sultry sound as your cunt clamped around him. His hips jerked forward at the feeling, the swirling sensation at his base building until he couldn't take it anymore- spilling into you with a huffed grunt.

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced with the night air, goosebumps prickling your skin as you whined in response. The dull ring in your ears making it hard to focus as you found your jeans to redress.

"One more week, dove. Better hurry."

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

heyy i have a request. I'm drunk rn and I wish Bucky could take care of me and make sure I'm safe and alright. could you write that?

Drunk Doll » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you and makes sure you’re safe while you’re drunk.

Warning: Fluff, language, alcohol, kissing, hangover, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Bucky watched from where he was sitting as you down the rest of your third margarita and downed tequila shots like it was nothing. He drank the last sip of his beer before standing up and making his way over to you. You downed two more tequila shots before he got to you.

“How many margaritas and tequila shots have you drank tonight, babydoll?” Bucky asks, leaning against the bar counter.

“Umm…” You tried to count on your fingers, but you had too much alcohol in your system to count. “Not enough.” You finally answered.

You reached for another tequila shot, but Bucky grabbed it before you could. You whined and reached for it.

“That’s mine!” You whined.

“No it’s not.” Bucky put it behind him so you couldn’t reach it. “You’ve had enough for the night, doll face.” He put some money on the bar counter. “You’re drunk and I’m taking you home.” He says.

“Fine.” You mumbled with a pout.

You jumped down from the bar stool, immediately loosing your balance. Bucky caught you before you fell. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the car. He opened the car door and put you in the car, helping you put your seatbelt on and then got in the car.

“You look like my boyfriend.” You tell him, staring at him.

“That’s interesting. Tell me about him.” He says, going with it.

“Umm…” You thought for a moment. “He uhh- he has pretty eyes and the same color hair as you. He’s strong and tall. He has the same necklace as you and- oh! He has an arm made of metal.” You say, describing him without realizing it.

“That’s very cool. Wanna know something interesting about yourself boyfriend?” He asks.

You nodded your head eagerly.

“I’m your boyfriend.” He tells you.

“No way!” You say, completely speechless.

After a few minutes, you fell asleep in the car. When you two got home, Bucky carried you in the apartment complex you guys live in. He unlocked the door to yours and his shared apartment with you in his arms and took you to yours and his bedroom. Bucky laid you on the bed gently and helped you out of your clothes.

“Hey!” You smacked his hands away. “I didn’t give you permission to do that!” You say.

“I’m trying to help you put on something more comfortable, doll.” Bucky explains.

After staring at him for a few seconds, you allowed him to help you change out of your clothes and into one of his shirts. Bucky left the room for a moment to get you some water and came back.

“Drink this.” He says, handing the cup of water to you.

“What is it?” You asked in a mumble, staring at the water in the cup.

“Water.” He answers. “You need to stay hydrated.” He says.

You drank some of the water before handing it back to Bucky. He put it on the nightstand on your side of the bed and got in bed, shutting off the bedside lamp.

“Bucky?” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky asks.

“Can I have a kiss please?” You asked.

Bucky leaned over and kissed your cheek. You pouted, wanting a kiss on your lips.

“That’s not the kind of kiss I wanted.” You say with a pout.

“What kind of kiss do you want, doll?” He asks.

“Lips.” You answered.

Bucky smiles at your cuteness and drunken state. He leaned over you and kisses your lips sweetly.

“You need sleep.” Bucky pulled you close to him and rubbed your back with his metal hand. “Goodnight, babydoll. I love you.” He whispers.

“Goodnight. I love you too.” You mumbling, falling asleep.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and the sun peaking through the window. You whined loudly and put the pillow over your head to block out the sun.

“Good morning, babydoll.” Bucky greets softly with a cup of coffee in his hand and sat down on the bed next to where you’re laying.

“It’s not a good morning. It feels like I’m dying.” You say from underneath the pillow.

“You’re not dying. You just have a hangover.” He says.

Bucky took the pillow off of your head, making you whine. You sat up, glancing at the nightstand. Bucky had already put a glass of water and some aspirin there. You drank some water and took a couple of aspirin.

“I hate this.” You mumbled, holding your head in your hands.

“I know, doll.” He says, gently rubbing your head.

“You’re lucky you can’t get drunk.” You say.

Bucky chuckles a little and gave you the cup of coffee. You took it from his hand and took a sip.

“I take it that we’re having a lazy day today.” Bucky says.

You nodded and leaned back against the headboard, tilting your head back against it. Bucky put a comforting hand on your knee.

“You need something to eat.” He says, standing up.

“Not hungry.” You mumbled.

“You need to eat something, doll face.” He states. “At least eat some crackers.” He suggests.

“Fine.” You mumbled.

Bucky held his hand out, helping you out of bed. You went to the living room and sat down on the couch while Bucky went to the kitchen to get the crackers. He seat down next to you and gave you the crackers. He turned the TV on and out your favorite show on, putting it on a low volume. You ate a few crackers before snuggling yourself against his side. You grabbed Bucky’s metal hand and put it on your forehead, sighing in relief when you felt the cool metal against your skin.

“So my metal hand is an ice pack now?” Bucky asks with a small chuckle.

“Yes.” You answered. “It’s cold and I like it.” You tell him.

Bucky kisses the top of your head and pulled you onto his lap. You laid your head on his shoulder, your face against the side of his neck.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You say.

“You’re welcome, babydoll.” Bucky says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[asuyaka]

Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!

★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader

♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)

Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.

You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).

Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.

You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.

It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.

As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.

Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.

You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?

Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.

You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.

You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.

Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus. 

All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”

Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.

He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.

Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even. 

“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.

“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home. 

Satoru smells like home.

Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”

“Shh… let me worry about all that.”

And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.

His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants. 

“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.

“Satoru– sir, I need—”

“But baby…” He whines.

He fucking whines.

His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?

“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”

Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.

Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”

Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.

“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”

God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.

Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”

His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.

You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.

Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.

It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.

All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.

“Gojo-sensei!?”

“Gojo-san?”

Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”

A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”

The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”

“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).

“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly. 

“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”

Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”

“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you. 

Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.

“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”

Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”

“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime. 

You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”

You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”? 

Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”

Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”

Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”

“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.

Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”

His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”

You nod with a soft smile on your face.

Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”

Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.

Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.

“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”

Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.

He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.

After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.

And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.

Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.

He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.

[f4irycafe]

long time no see freak hoes 😏

rn im thinking about eren and black reader who are this tik tok i saw. if ur friend has a man (cough like sasha and niko) he’ll be friendly but he’s really only here for you and the drinks. because when yall get home 😼 he knows that after a tense car ride in the uber and walk up to his apartment that his mouth will be on yours immediately, kissing you just as you were about to speak. the words obviously caught in your throat as you kiss him back. he learns forward for more, you watch his lips chase yours as you pull your head back and open your eyes.

“not yet” you say with a giggle, skipping backwards further into his apartment towards his bedroom as he stalks towards you.

“c’mere,” eren grunts out as he shoots out an arm to attempt to grab you. he fails, instead watching as you scamper into the bedroom. he slowly follows after you, taking his time to close the door.

if you wanted to be tease, he’d gladly go the extra mile just to show you how petty he was willing to be for this little delay.

it was your turn to be needy, your french tip manicured nails reaching for the back of his neck before being stopped by his much larger hands.

“not yet,” he said, repeating your earlier statement you. fawkkkkkkkkk. yeah im done, you thought as you watched him take his time traveling down your body, pulling away whenever your breathe hitched at his touch.

by the time he was finished with his little show, he was kneeling infront of the bed, your legs hoisted and locked around his shoulders, his long arms holding your hips against his face.

“look at me.” he whispered against you, the cold air causing your pussy to clench. eren laughed. you hid your face in the pillow, but your man was having none of it. he gently smacked your thigh, repeating his words until you finally looked at him.

he spent ten minutes down there just going the fuck at it. like that’s the only way i can describe it yall he ate 🙌🏾 by the time he was finished his nose down was covered in your juices. the way he slurped up the last of what he could before wiping your cum from his face with the back of your hand was enough to make you squirt a little just from the sight. he smiled and quickly rubbed your pussy, watching as you squeezed and squirted for him simple by looking at him.

“such a good fucking girl. cums just by looking at me hmm?” he says just as much.

“y-you’re so fucking hot” you say as you grab at his hands. his moves you up the bed before swiftly taking off his pants and climbing on top of you. the reason he stays down there so long, aside from his own pleasure, is so that he can do this.

he’s already hard you see as you watch him wet his dick on your soaking pussy before slowly sliding in in one stroke. you both moan and it feels so good as you hold eachother close, moaning in his ear as he slowly rocks into you.

his hands move from the back of your neck and shoulders to the top of your head and you know what’s about to happen, and all you can do is brace yourself. you dig your face into the crevice where his neck meets his shoulder, his soft brown hair covering your face as he begins to literally fuck you into the bed.

🫢

at the same time y’all are drunk and he’s made u cum thrice already so baby finished quick and then yall go to bed ok BYE !

elle’s thoughts: is this a loose retelling of how my one ex fwb used to fuck me .. no 🫠🤥. he was 6’5 … im much much smaller than that. also i just started writing and ofc because im a whore if turned into smut 😭 feel free to blow up my requests w lil asks for blurbs and what not, it’s summer and when im not working im bored 🥱 ⭐️ LOVE U ALL HUGS A DN KISSES MWAH 😘 also not proofread we die like men

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

****************************************************

As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[ariseur]

ok i saw you wanted some requests so im here to give you an idea!! im really angst about gojo right now and i need an angst fic. (spoilers for the manga)

ok so: gojo x reader but readers cursed technique is to be able to see into the future (but they can’t do anything about it or talk about it) and they get a vision of the gojo vs. sukuna fight and what happens. they get all upset about it and cling to gojo, trying to get him not to go. (established relationship pls🙏🏻)

sorry for the drabble, i’ve been aching for someone to write this haha

HOLD ME ( TIGHTER THAN YOU EVER WILL ) - SATORU GOJO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - i’m not gonna lie anon, i just finished the manga and i fell to my knees when i saw this request. ilysm for this but you are EVIL ( kiss me rn thank you for providing me with this angst )

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - spoilers for jujutsu kaisen manga chpts 222 - 236, character death ( canon ), weirdly descriptive mentions of you choking back words ( like that feeling you get when you’re trying not to cry and it feels like there’s barbed wire in your throat😭 ), gojo calls you “my girl” twice so fem!reader in mind when writing this, i didn’t really describe it as much of a technique i mainly kept it like you were seeing visions since i didn’t know how to correlate the ct i’m sorry!!, intended lowercase, hope you guys enjoy 😚💕!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 1654 words, 9068 characterss

“satoru.”

gojo turned around, his footsteps coming to a halt down the hallway of the infirmary. his face tipped towards you, cocking a bit as he let out a low hum of question.

upon seeing his face, your stomach clenched; a deep regret swirling in your abdomen. with a look at his face, your bottom lip quivered with furrowed brows. he stood there, trying to decipher your expression as he awaited an answer. his eyes, narrowed with confidence stood out on display rather than shielded from his blindfold. there was nothing left to hide now, not his strength and not his arrogance. you remembered how you had always begged him to take it off at least once, just so you could see his pretty eyes.

and now looking back retrospectively, it didn’t matter. those visions you saw, how real they felt. they couldn’t have been dreams, they always haunted you as they showed up everywhere. your eyes fell to satoru’s pink lips, pressed together in confusion before another thought intruded your head — another sight to behold as you felt like gagging upon remembering his bruised face, the blood spouting out from his mouth tainting his lips.

“i just,” you swallowed thickly, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to do this just yet.”

he sighed, giving one shake of his head before he stepped forward towards you. your head hung low, your words choked at the back of your throat as they threatened to escape their enclosure behind your uvula. “megumi’s in danger, people are watchin’ — i can’t postpone it, baby, you know that.” his hand placed itself on your shoulder, softly rubbing against the fabric of your shirt where the seams met.

“i’m not saying that— i just mean,” you closed your eyes, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. you recalled the conversation that happened not too long ago, back with ijichi and shoko. lamenting with all the memories back in your youth, along with reminiscing over everything that’s happened. shibuya, megumi’s possession, okkotsu’s return. everybody who’s died, it haunted you like no other knowing there was nothing you could do to prevent it; kugisaki, nanami, all those lives dealt a bad hand at their dreadful end. even yuuji itadori, someone so young being used so carelessly.

“damn, so it’s just the four of us left.” gojo’s voice had echoed throughout the room of your previous conversation. your head tipping back against the cold lockers as you stood in the corner, the scent of tobacco wafting in the air and seeping in through your nostrils from shoko’s cigarette whilst she stood not even a few feet away from you.

“well, there’s still also that idiot.” she huffed, transparent smoke slipping out in thin shapes from past her lips.

being around her for so long, the smell became indelible in your brain, your senses immediately causing you to retrace back to ieiri’s bad habit. even now, as you stood in front of your beloved — even as his distant musk flew up to your head as it had just barely intoxicated you, the smell of cigarettes and menthol was still unforgettable. you remembered the scratch in your throat as you hummed in agreement, your voice uneasy and raspy from misuse as gojo looked back up at shoko. “. . that’s true.”

eyes fluttering closed, you let out a small huff as you heard ijichi debriefing about something related to nanami, not that you could pay attention anyways. the voices and the images and the downright fuckery that went on in your brain was too loud for you to focus on anything else, including satoru’s face right in front of yours as you stopped recalling the transpired events as your head bowed down even further.

“look at me,” you heard him say. he gave your shoulders a gentle shake as his hand snaked up from your arm to your chin, trying to redirect your attention back to him no matter how much your head resisted. “where’s my girl at? don’t be shy, jus’ talk to me.”

your eyebrows crinkled as they met in the middle, the slight bit of skin creasing at contact when you finally looked up at him. his lashes ridged around his upper eyelids, pupils gazing ever so delicately as they softened at the sight of you. his thumb turned to face vertically, grazing your lip as he cocked his head; and then, he smiled. what once was so comforting long ago, where you two would spend mornings lazing around in bed as you’d forget about the first years, forget about yaga, forget about responsibilities. it was like you were in that high school bliss again, unable to care about anything more than the person right in front of you — even if they were drooling all over your arm. his smile, canines on display, only made you feel sicker about what you knew.

he pulled you into his chest slowly ( giving you enough time to thrash out of his embrace and tell him to knock it off, even if it’d hurt his pride a bit ) and as he rested his chin on you, he mumbled against your ear, “you can cry it out, you know.”

“‘m not crying.” you smacked his shoulder, pulling away as you sniffled — an obviously very convincing sign of totally not getting upset.

he snorted, “okay ma’am, don’t need the attitude — i’m just saying you can if you needed to.” he kept you at an arms length before he tilted your chin up again, causing you to roll your eyes and give him a sharp huff.

“gojo—!” you heard from around the corner. a high, stern voice interrupting the small bickering back and forth between you two. his hand faltered on your face, his thumb no longer brushing your cheek as your body tilted to the side only to find utahime walking in your line of sight. her eyebrows raised at the two of you, her mouth quirking to the side in shock as she sputtered, “not to ruin the moment but,” she shrugged slightly; a way of telling you indirectly, ‘it’s time.’

“few more minutes ‘hime, and i’ll be out.” he called out singsonging along as she walked away.

“don’t call me that,” she repeated in the same cadence, her voice collecting more distance the further she retreated — allowing you guys to have a moment before they prepare to go out.

satoru turned back towards you, his smirk growing wider as you looked away, your hand grabbing the one glued to your faced as you savored the warmth in between his fingers. “ah, there she is,” he teased, “my girl.”

“‘toru?”

he hummed, his hands squeezing yours. your eyes zipped up to his. “please,” you pouted at him, “be careful, yeah?”

he laughed as he shook his head in amusement. taking a few steps back, he extended both of your arms before ceremoniously letting go. “i think it’ll be okay — i am the strongest, after all,” gojo chuckled.

you managed a meager, bittersweet smile as you let out a wry laugh. no matter what kind of sounds left your lips, he always relished in them knowing only he could pull them out of you. whether it’s a small laugh, a full on abundance of giggles, whimpers along with your squirming about that he’d always tease you for; satoru never failed to appreciate them. even your groans of discomfort when he’d piss you off, all it took was some sweet talking and a trail of kisses along your jaw and he’d bounce back all sunshine and rainbows.

it wasn’t your voice or your body ( although those were major bonuses, might he have added ), and it wasn’t even the way you’d purse your lips to stop an embarrassed smile from painting itself on your face whenever he would make a stupid joke ( another thing he had loved about you ) — it was the fact that you saw him. he wasn’t the strongest when he was with you — he was ‘toru, only satoru.

he began to walk away, his shoes tapping against the hard floors as you watched his white robe flow behind him. you swallowed back a small whine at the back of your throat as you watched him leave; his hand about to slide the double doors open until you called for him once more. “satoru—?”

“huh?” he let out an airy laugh, mixed in with the syllable.

you put a hand on your hip, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat. you let out an awkward laugh, “i love you — so much.”

gojo put a hand to his mouth before sending it off with you as he blew you a dramatic air kiss. “i love you, always.”

and with that, he turned away; the door sliding open with a satisfying sound before it closed behind him. left alone, with your thoughts only growing louder. you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes shut, your hand clutching your head as your fingers buried themselves under your hair.

behind that door, gojo stood as he took a deep breath. he had burned your face into his memory, his brain fading back into images of your eyes — so piercing, always searching into his own, whether that was for the better or worst remained unknown in both his and your mind. as always, you had come, you had seen, and you had loved.

as he walked out to where utahime and gakuganji were waiting, he couldn’t help but think about you. satoru gojo could be held down by anybody, with all of their might — and be stabbed with sharpest of swords and the strongest of curses, but he’d never stop loving you. because you had never stopped loving him. satoru gojo had never stopped being seen by you; for he wasn’t the strongest, merely satoru.

𐙚 taglist ; @seternic @sad-darksoul

𐙚 requests are open — june twenty second, 2024

[junkissed]

wedding night

member — husband!cheol x wife!f reader genre — smut, fluff, newlyweds au word count — 2.3k synopsis — seungcheol just wants to treat his wife right on their first night together as husband and wife. content warnings — cheol calls reader his wife, reader is described wearing a big poofy wedding dress (also a garter), half of this is filth and the other half is cheesy flowery prose oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), praise, fingering, edging, some begging, briefly some spitting & marking, lots and lots of making out, sex while mostly clothed, implied shower sex at the end, cheol has a fat marriage kink and so do i notes — this is inspired by the delusional staff at pledis who decided the concept for fml carat version should be wedding photos! i am crazy. like very much i am so unwell rn. anyway not saying this is for @duhnova but this is definitely for @duhnova

your breath hitches as seungcheol hikes your wedding dress up your leg, layers of soft fabric bunching up between his fingers. his breath is hot on your now-exposed thighs.

flat on your back on the king-size hotel bed, you’re still in the dress you walked down the aisle in. the same one cheol had insisted you wore at the reception; the same one you wore on his private plane on the way to your honeymoon spot where he could barely keep his hands off of you, but resisted because he wanted your first time as husband and wife to be extra special; the same one you had trudged through the hotel lobby in, wrestling the gown into the elevator up to the private suite he had bought.

you grasp the material, struggling a little to hold it all up and out of cheol’s face. “baby, it’ll be easier, i can take this off—”

“no,” he interrupts, tugging on your legs to bring you closer to his mouth, and you yelp, sliding further down the bed. “want you to leave it on. let me fuck my wife in this gorgeous dress i married you in.”

you whine, cunt clenching around nothing at the way he calls you your new title. his wife.

he pushes your skirt up higher, finally revealing what he was searching for: a lacy red and black garter wrapped daintily around one of your thighs. he groans and leans closer to your leg, his teeth grazing over your skin and making you shiver.

he looks up at you, and you can barely see his face through all the layers of silk and tulle, but you can clearly see the familiar lustful look in his eyes. he runs his teeth along the garter, pulling it between his teeth and then letting go to snap it against your thigh.

you hiss at the sting, but the momentary pain quickly fades when your husband grabs your dress from your hands and pulls it over his head, hiding himself between your legs and wrapping his lips around your clit.

you arch your back, hips lifting off the bed when his tongue begins to prod into you, swirling wet circles around your entrance as you writhe in his grip. you can’t see anything that’s going on, except for his legs hanging off the edge of the bed behind you, his top half completely covered.

without the fabric in his way, it’s easy for him to hold your thighs apart beneath the dress, pushing them down hard into the bed so that no matter how hard you try to close your legs around him, it’s impossible to move an inch.

your breath catches in your throat as his tongue moves through your folds, and you can feel his saliva and your wetness dripping down onto the inside of the dress. it’s going to be a pain to wash, but laundry is the last thing on your mind when cheol suddenly pushes his index finger into you, curling up and against your walls at just the right angle that it makes you clench down around him as hard as you can. he curses, the sound muffled underneath the layers of the dress, but continues fucking his finger in and out of you, barely enough room for him to move but somehow he finds a way.

you barely even notice when he slips a second finger inside, followed by a third, your juices pooling in the palm of his hand as he thrusts into you.

as if you weren’t already wet enough, he detaches his lips from you and leans his head back, spitting directly on your pussy.

you cry out his name, lifting your hips to chase his mouth as he uses his tongue to smear the mixture over your folds. he presses his face deeper into your pussy, his nose rubbing directly against your clit, and you feel yourself drawn closer and closer to the edge with each movement, all of it accumulating until you feel like you’re about to snap.

but at that exact moment, cheol’s fingers slide out of you and his mouth leaves you with a pop, and everything you’d been building up to crumbles away in a split second.

“seungcheol, please—”

he pokes his head out from beneath your dress at the mention of his name, bunching the fabric up at your hips. cold air hits your aching cunt, exposed to the temperature of the room now that your lower half is no longer covered, and you whimper at the sudden change.

cheol’s fingers play with the garter’s elastic band, a constant reminder of his presence though you don’t feel any stimulation. “what is it, baby? tell me what you need.”

your cunt throbs, and you whine in frustration, reaching out for him with shaky hands. “need you, cheollie, please. want you so bad. please fuck me.”

he groans and shifts over the bed, leaning over you to capture your lips in his. you taste yourself in his mouth as your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

most of his weight is supported by his arms, holding himself over you but still low enough that you’re pressed chest to chest. his suit jacket was shed long ago, and now you tug at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off so you can see him.

and of course he obliges, readjusting his position until he’s straddling you, so he can keep kissing you as his fingers quickly work to undo the buttons of his shirt. as soon as he shrugs it all the way off, he puts his forearms on either side of your head, falling forward to get closer to you, lips smashing with yours like he’s fighting for breath and you’re the only one that can give it to him.

you can feel him rocking his hips against yours subconsciously and you moan, his erection pressed against your stomach through his pants. you manage to pull away from him for a second to breathe, leaning your head to rest against the pillow as you struggle to get oxygen into your brain.

but this only opens up area on your neck for him to mark, and he dives back in fervently, biting and sucking at your skin. you’re sure he can feel your pulse racing beneath his lips.

he bites at your earlobe particularly roughly and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his toned back muscles, clawing and trying to pull him even closer than he already is. your eyes flutter shut when he reaches up to cup your chin in his hands, tilting your face back towards him so he can kiss you again.

it seems like you’re there for hours, both almost completely clothed, tangled up on top of the bed with your lips crashing together like it’s the last time you’ll ever see each other, though this is only just the beginning. it may as well have been hours, with the way your cunt aches with need but you can’t bring yourself to stop kissing him.

the feeling isn’t anything you haven’t experienced many times before. you and seungcheol had been together for years before he proposed, years spent filled with passion and love and good memories. but this time feels completely different. maybe it’s all in your head, the post-wedding jitters finally catching up with you and making your head spin. but just the thought of doing the same things you’d done in the past, but now instead as a married couple, makes you feel like a brand new person. a person that belongs with seungcheol, forever.

finally he breaks away, breathing hard with his cheeks flushed and his hair a tangled mess. he moves off of his position on top of you, and you start to sit up and follow him, but he just pressed another breathy kiss to your cheek.

“‘m not going anywhere, baby,” he says softly, running a hand through your hair. “gonna get you some water and then ‘m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

you whine in protest, but he doesn’t listen, moving off the bed and grabbing a cup and some ice, along with a water bottle from the refrigerator. he sits at the edge of the bed with you while you take small sips. he’s right; your mouth is dry, and the cool water feels so refreshing.

too soon the glass is empty and abandoned on the nightstand, and cheol moves to take his pants off, now a wrinkled mess but he doesn’t care.

he shifts behind you to unzip the back of your dress, gently sliding the fabric off your shoulders. you start to stand up to step out of the dress completely, but he stops you.

“said i would fuck you in this dress, didn’t i?” he whispers. his breath is warm by your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “just wanna see a little more of you.”

you moan, letting him slip the top of the dress down to your stomach, exposing your breasts as he slowly climbs on top of you again. “god, you’re so gorgeous,” he sighs, more to himself than to you as his hands slide up your body, gently kneading and squeezing your skin.

he sits back on his knees, bunching your dress up around your waist again to give him access to your cunt, begging to be filled. he pressed two fingers into you, slowly scissoring them back and forth to work you open, but he stops when you whine again.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his fingers still inside you as he leans down to kiss your breasts.

“i want you, cheol,” you plead with him, your hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “tired of waiting, please.”

he presses one last kiss to your cheek, then pulls his fingers out of you, finally lining himself up at your entrance.

it’s the same stretch you’ve felt dozens of times, but everything is so different with him now. his arms are planted on either side of you, muscles bulging as he pushes into you slowly, gently. beads of sweat collect at his hairline and begin to roll down his temples until he’s finally sheathed all the way inside you, both of you panting for breath.

after a minute or two you squeeze seungcheol’s bicep, begging him to move. and he does, slowly rocking his hips back and forth at first, before gradually increasing his pace. you can feel every long, deep stroke of his hips as they crash into you, your breasts bouncing as he pushes you deeper into the mattress.

you grab onto his shoulders and hold on tightly, clinging to him for support. his grunts under his breath only spur you on, dragging him closer to you until he’s laying on top of you.

you spread your legs further apart, trying to wrap around his waist but the dress is in the way, and you call his name frustratedly. “seungcheol, please—”

as much as he doesn’t want to pull out, cheol doesn’t like hearing you upset, either, so with a wince he slows to a stop, moving away from between your legs so you can shove the dress away once and for all before he pushes back into you and resumes his pace.

you moan in relief, finally able to feel him like you’ve wanted to all night. cheol curses when you clench around him, and he grabs hold of your thighs and pushes them against your chest. at this angle you can feel him even deeper than before, and you whimper, eyes falling shut as you feel yourself start to come up to the edge of your orgasm.

“are you gonna cum, baby?” he groans, hips slamming against yours. “can feel you getting close, squeezing me so–ah, good. fuck, i love you so much.”

you grab onto his shoulders, your fingers scrambling over his muscles as you try to find something to ground yourself, nails digging into his skin.

his pace never falters, and without warning you let go when he says your name again, “my beautiful wife, look so fuckin’ beautiful, shit.”

you barely register when his hips begin to stutter as he chases his own orgasm, finally succumbing to it with a breathy whine as he releases inside you, spurt after spurt of his cum filling you up before he collapses on top of you.

your ears are still ringing when you finally come down, wrapped up in a blissful state of peace with seungcheol’s softening cock still inside you.

you inhale deeply, holding it in for a moment before exhaling, feeling your body start to relax and that’s when you know you have to get up now or not at all. you gently poke cheol’s side and he rolls off of you, but not before giving you another giggly kiss. he picks you up in his arms and spins you around once, then carries you off to the bathroom to clean up.

although later you find yourself pressed against the cool tile of the shower wall, caught up in another frenzy of kisses, however this time much softer and gentler. between the day’s festivities and the night’s activities, you’re both exhausted, but you couldn’t be happier being tangled in each other’s arms, not bearing to part for more than a few minutes at a time.

with room service ordered and a movie playing on the tv while you wait, you couldn’t think of a better place to be than by seungcheol’s side, not just tonight, but for every night afterwards.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

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[terresdebrume]

Work is kinda hectic rn, my knees are NOT liking how much traveling between floors I have to do, and I am missing sleep like crazy so my WIPs are staying largely untouched but I HAD to push out this concept for a maybe-someday fic in the I'm down on my knees universe

Written for the free square day of @painlandweek . Have some hurt/comfort ft Charles and how he feels about his mum. Also belatedly tagging @ghostinthelibrarywrites bc I think you'll enjoy it and I accidentally posted a thing that was meant to stay a draft again xD

Charles is sitting on the doorstep. It's almost eight PM on a weeknight, Edwin is just back from a fun-study session—which is really just Maren's way of saying she wants beer with her textbooks—tired, brain swimming with texts of law, and more than a little tipsy... And Charles Rowland is sitting on his doorstep. His building's doorstep. The difference is irrelevant.

Caught off guard, Edwin blinks, and stares at Charles.

He is curled up on the ground, spine back in that parenthesis shape it had back in school. His elbows are on his knees, hands buried into the hair at the back of his neck, his eyes closed. Edwin takes in the tension in Charles' shoulders, the way the fading sunlight catches the green vines tattooed on his left forearm, the slow, deliberate depth of movement around his ribcage, and decides against calling out to him. Instead, Edwin walks up to him until Charles can no longer ignore the footsteps, and waits for him to speak.

"Hi," Charles says, muffled, from between his elbows.

"Hi," Edwin replies, chest twisting when the last hope he had that Charles was just a bit tired evaporates like rhum from a flambé.

He steps forward again, then ignores the fresh layer of summer dust on the steps and sits down next to Charles, deliberately picking a position that makes their hips and shoulders touch. Charles leans into it immediately, turning a light contact into solid pressure, and Edwin sighs. Things could be worse.

"I did not expect you tonight," Edwin prompts, trying to make himself as gentle as he can.

Tuesday nights are when Charles and Niko's dance classes take place. Edwin has never known either of them to miss one, so Charles' presence here is one more sign that whatever is going on is not to be taken lightly. As if to confirm Edwin's suspicions, Charles sighs, and mumbles:

"I ran into my mum."

Edwin freezes. For some reason, in the few months since he and Charles reunited, it never quite clicked for him that Charles' parents, for all that Charles hasn't had any contact with them for nearly eight years now, exist in the same world they do. London is such a large, dense city, it is easy to make your life in a corner of it and never step outside its boundaries. Edwin's parents certainly treat Kensington like an insular country only worth leaving for the richer shores of Mayfair, when they deign to visit the capital at all. Just like Edwin and Charles existed less than ten minutes away from each other for months without having a clue, the possibility of him running into Mr. or Mrs. Rowland by accident did not even cross Edwin's mind. Nor Charles', from the look of things.

"That must have been a shock," Edwin says.

He does not know enough to infuse more feelings into his response. Charles, for all that he shares his smiles, his affections and the chief of his worldly possessions freely, has remained incredibly tight lipped about his past. The summary of what Edwin knows of Charles' youth is quite easy to make.

Fact the first: at the age of sixteen, not one term into his stay at St. Hilarion's School for Boys, Charles Rowland jumped into a pool full of a deadly allergy trigger to save Edwin's life.

Fact the second: for the remainder of that school year, Charles endeavoured to make Edwin's life as painless as possible. His presence remains, by far, the brightest highlight of Edwin's adolescence.

Fact the third: at the age of seventeen, or near enough, Charles ran away from what he described as a bad home situation exactly once and proceeded never to mention again. It is Edwin's understanding that Charles may have escaped with nothing but the clothes on his back that day.

Two of those facts, Edwin knows because he was a direct witness to them, and the third was only shared with him because he accidentally made it an implicit condition to renewing his acquaintance with Charles.

Charles Rowland is not an emotional sharer, and Edwin is sort of at a loss.

"Yeah," Charles mumbles after a beat. "It was a bloody shock alright."

Edwin bites on his bottom lip, resisting the urge to push his fists together.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks, hoping his voice conveys the appropriate mixture of care and caution.

Charles shrugs, sniffing and rubbing his face against one of his forearms. Edwin bites his lip a little harder, and cautiously raises his right hand to place it on Charles' back. He feels and sees the muscles tense, Charles arching his back like an angry cat for the half second it takes Edwin to take his hand back.

"I apologize," he says, hand hovering uselessly above Charles' shoulder blades, "I wanted—"

"Neck's fine," Charles mumbles, low enough that Edwin almost misses it.

He swallows thickly, pausing when the upstairs neighbors walk by with puzzled faces. Edwin doesn't quite glare at them but it's a near thing, and he turns back to Charles the second they're out of view.

"Alright," he says. "Neck, then."

He only touches two fingers to the nape of Charles' neck at first, trying to keep it light, but that makes Charles tense again so he changes to a more present grip, palm flat and only just brushing with the edge of Charles' hair. Charles doesn't move into it this time, but he doesn't flinch away either. Edwin feels Charles take a deep, soundless breath, like a swimmer before a dive, and braces.

"I. She asked how I was," he exhales at last, and the wind rushes out of Edwin's lungs with a punched out sound. "I haven't seen her in over seven years and she—"

Charles takes a shuddering breath, sharp and painful sounding, and his voice sounds utterly broken when he says:

"He used to beat me up, you know."

Edwin, who hadn't known but kept the possibility in his mind like a bad thorn, bites down on a sympathetic hiss and leans a little harder against Charles instead, stretching so he can lean his forehead against the back of Charles' skull.

"Charles, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, free hand grasping around until it can find the jut of Charles' left knee, and wrap his fingers around it, squeezing with as much reassurance as he can muster.

He wishes, abruptly, that he'd thought to take Charles inside before he started this talk. They both deserve better than the front step of Edwin's building, where another pair of neighbors gawks at them as they walk past. Yet, now that they're here, Edwin wouldn't cut Charles off for all the gold in the world. He fears with an intensity he didn't know he was capable of, that interrupting Charles now would send him back into his usual reserve, and Edwin knows with absolute certainty that he will go to great lengths to prevent that from happening.

"She never—every time he did it," Charles says, almost choking on the words, "she'd just stand—she didn't do anything! And now—now she—"

A long fit of coughing cuts Charles off, wracking his body and shaking Edwin's head even as he tightens his hold on Charles, as if he could make up for his childhood with how much he loves him.

"I'm so sorry," he tells Charles. "You deserved so much better."

Charles' cough subsides, melting into shuddering, soundless sobs that Edwin wants to take into his ribs and hide from the rest of the world. He straightens up and, as gently as he can, guides Charles to lean against him harder until his frame his half cradled in Edwin's arms.

"It's not bloody fair," Charles manages between sobs, gulping air like he's drowning, shaking against Edwin.

Edwin breathes in, tears crowding at the corner of his eyes, and holds Charles closer. He wishes, so desperately, that he could love him enough to erase the past and make all the pain go away.

"I love you," he says instead, recklessly, pressing a kiss into the side of Charles' hair. "I know it doesn't make anything better, but I love you."

They sit like this for a long time, Charles crying and Edwin rocking him lightly like a child, until things finally calm down enough that Charles is ready to go upstairs for tea. They drink it out of the blue mugs Monty bought when he and Edwin moved in, quietly sitting on the couch in one of those strange bubbles of relieved fragility that comes after a crisis. For a long while, they sit in silence on Edwin's couch.

Then Charles sighs, long and tired, and leans sideways until he can rest his head on Edwin's shoulder, one arm looping around his waist.

"I love you too, mate," he sighs, making Edwin freeze. "And it does make things better that you love me."

Edwin, his heart singing from Charles' declaration and bleeding from the way he meant it, nods, and drinks his tea.

[starb3rrys]

Hiii I'm kinda new to Tumblr so idk how stuff really works here😭 but anyway are your requests open? If so, then I'd like to make a req but if not just ignore this!!

Umm so basically an nsfw oneshot(idk what you call it) or headcanons of how bsd men would react/deal the situation when you two are hiding in a very tight space and your crotches accidentally rub together? RHRHHT it's kinda weird describing it but let's just say [character] pushed you along with him into a locker/box with you sitting on top of his lap OR with you too close ttp that you two could feel each other with every inch you move

Uhhh and yeah that's it and feel free to add some touches and changes on the scenario, and I'd greatly appreciate it if maybe you add Nikolai in it😁🙏AND AGAIN IF U DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING MY REQ OR ISN'T ACCEPTING REQS RN THEN FEEL FREE TO IGNORE I HONESTLY DON'T MIND!!/lh /srs

OMG YES?! Ugh, I love this request! I wanted to add some more characters as well, So I picked the DOA (sorry) ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／

If y’all want a part 2 with different characters just let me know, Im at your service! <3

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

A Tight Fit~

Ft. Nikolai, Sigma, Fyodor

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Nikolai

Scenario: You were out on a mission with Nikolai, it should’ve been an easy “break in and grab important documents” type mission. But now, you two were squeezed together in a small closet, fearing that any small movement would get you two caught.

“Stay quiet...” Nikolai said as he listened closely, his face looked concentrated and serious, a change from his usual happy and calm face

You quietly nod, as you press against the wall behind you to try and get some more space in between you two

The closet is pretty small, hence why nikolai is leaning down, his hands are pressed firmly on each side of your head, inevitably pinning you in place

Nikolai thinks of a way for both of you to escape this situation without being spotted, “maybe I can teleport something”, he thought to himself

He reaches for his cape, unintentionally pressing against you

Your eyes widen as you feel something press against your area, you slowly look up to see if Nikolai noticed

His cheeks are flushed, hes frozen in place and there is an obvious smirk forming on his face

Yeah he definitely noticed.

You start to speak “Niko-… you’re so clo-“, he cuts you off as he places his hand over your lips

“Shh...” He says as he places a finger against his own lips with a small smirk

Moments later you hear the door of the office close, you two are now alone

“They’re gone now...” Nikolai says in a quiet gentle tone, he turns to you “But, i mean…we could just stay in here~” he says with a mischievous grin

Even after you two get out of that closet, he would keep on teasing and reminding you of the “incident”, he will make sure you never forget!~

Sigma

Scenario: You really don’t know how you got in this situation, one second you and Sigma were walking the streets of the city at night, after your wonderful date. The next, you were hiding in a small dark alley, your body pressed tightly against sigmas as you both hid from a certain jester.

“Damn it.” Sigma cursed under his breath as he kept his guard up, looking around frantically with a worried yet annoyed look

You looked up at Sigma, “Why are we hiding?” You whispered

Sigma looked down at you as he let out a sigh “I saw Nikolai roaming the streets, We can’t be seen together by anyone in the decay, if they were to find out about us...I’m sure horrible consequences would follow” he explained

You nod in agreement, “I understand..but um, why did we have to hide in such a...tight space.” You say as you look away, you can feel his body pressed tightly against yours, you can feel his every breath, his every shuffle and every slight movement

Sigma realizes this and blushes as his eyes widen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice our position in the heat of the moment”

As he says this, you hear a slight noise come from the alley which causes you to slightly jump in a fright

Sigma let’s out a small grunt as he feels your crotch roughly brush against his, he grips your shoulders and holds you in place “Love please…try and stay still…at least for now” he pleads as his face flushes

Your eyes widen as you feel something slightly poke you “Sigm-“ you’re cut off as his hand covers your mouth, “Keep quiet..” he whispers as you hear footsteps around the corner

You feel him press more onto you, trying to hide your body from view as he lays his head against you shoulder, next to your ear

You slightly shuffle which causes sigma to groan in response, he quickly grips your hips with slight force

“Keep still..” he says in a low tone

Once you two finally get out of the alley way…let’s just say- his head was full of scenarios that caused him to blush profusely, as he practically dragged you to your apartment…

Fyodor

Scenario: Work has been so busy lately, new mission reports coming in everyday. Piles of finished and unfinished documents decorate your desk. All of this caused you to become stressed and overwhelmed, which caused you to become clumsy. So clumsy that you didn’t even seem to notice Fyodor turning the corner, not until it was too late.

**THUD**, is all that can be heard as your bodies crash together and fall to the floor

You feel extreme pain on your head as you let out a small groan of pain

You soothe your head and begin to slowly open your eyes, you try and comprehend what just happened as you hear a soft pained groan come from under you

You slowly begin to look down, your face flushes when you and Fyodor’s eyes meet

His eyes show slight shock as they quickly return to their neutral state, he just stares up at you…not uttering a word

You take a minute to process what is currently happening…and thats when you feel it, you feel something pressing against your area

You quickly get off Fyodor as you begin to apologize, “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been paying more attention!”, you ramble on apologies as you quickly stand up

He lets out a small chuckle as he stands up and brushes himself off , “No worries, more importantly…are you alright?” He asks with a bit of concern present in his tone

You nod as your face grows red, you begin to remember what you felt under you as you pray to god he didn’t notice

But, its like he can read you like a book, he smirks as he reaches for your chin, making you look at him “Yes,…I did notice and feel it” he says with a sly tone

You freeze in place as he says this, he then pulls away and softly smiles “Just be more careful and aware in the future, alright?”

He narrows his eyes as his tone changes to a more stern one, “Next time I won’t be so forgiving…~” he says as he begins to walk off

You’re left standing there shocked and frozen in place

He definitely enjoyed it, especially your cute reaction when you thought he didn’t notice. But for your sake he won’t bring it up, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t think about it constantly…~

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Hi Hi! Sorry for the delay, work has been getting in the way but no worries im clearing out my requests!

I changed the scenario up a bit for Fyodor! (Sorry)

I appreciate everyone sending in requests! Love yall! <3

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hey! If possible, could you write doppio dropscythe x reader dating headcanons? Maybe the reader is also a vtuber in nijisanji rn, but it’s a secret from the internet?

i had this draft since the cheftective era and haven’t touched it in a few months, i’m not so sure why, especially since it was almost done... if it seems dated then that's why. thank you for your patience anon, i loved writing for doppio! he's very difficult but very fun!

tags: established relationship, fluff, gender neutral reader, lore compliant, reader is a vtuber, reader is an xsoleil student, secret relationship/getting caught, pet names

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🐣 Doppio Dropscythe

It's funny, because at a first glance, Doppio seems like the type of guy that takes what he wants. He's never shied away from who he is and wears his heart on his sleeve; one of the many reasons you fell for him.

But he doesn't. You collab often with him and you can tell there's something unsaid between you two, or something more underneath the surface-level entertainment. Something that goes beyond the audience's heads.

It's not quite a certainty but you're convinced you need to do something. It's just that as streamers, especially streamers that work under a corporation, you want to know exactly what to do.

You end up talking to Ver for advice. As the President of Xsoleil, he's a good listener, especially since you know how close he and Doppio are. He wouldn't dare judge you when his friend's own feelings are on the line as well as yours.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You enter the Xsoleil student council office. As expected, Ver swivels around in a big leather office chair that makes him look more imposing than his dorky-sweet-tooth personality ever could. "Reader, it's good to see you. I liked your stream last Friday. How can I help you?"

"Nothing business. I'm here to ask about Doppio."

At the mention of his name Ver leans back in his chair, and you tense. You explain yourself: how lucky you are to work with him, how wonderful of a man he is, and how much you care about him. It spills out of you like water in a strainer. You've kept your feelings bottled up for so long, and Ver has such an accepting energy that makes you want to uncover everything you've been hiding. After all, if anyone could give you approval and advice on your feelings about Doppio, it would be the president himself.

By the time you finish, however, he seems far less surprised than you expected. "You should tell him."

"But what if-"

"Just do it." He presses his fingers between his eyes like he's alleviating a headache. "Trust me on this one. Please. Hopefully if you do so within the next week, Meloco's earnings from the betting pool will go back into our funding."

Somehow, that doesn't surprise you, and you're too happy they approve to get frustrated. You request Ver's blessing. He obliges. "Not that you need it. We're just happy there's someone out there for him." Ver's eyes glint. "Treat him right. If you don't, I'll be very disappointed. And Kotoka will start a smear campaign on Instagram."

"Duly noted, Kaichou."

"And he'd be sad."

"Can you trust me too?" You ask. Ver nods. "That's the last thing I want to do. If we're going to do this, I want to make sure I give him everything he deserves."

"Good answer." He smiles, like everything's fallen into place. "I meant what I said, you didn't need my blessing, but you definitely have it now."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you finally muster up the courage to ask Doppio out, it's like he forgets to talk. In fact, he does. He sputters out happy noises that don't even make up sentences for a solid minute before he remembers how to say "yes."

Doppio makes a lot of noises even when he does know how to talk, and it might be one of the most endearing things about him. You've lovingly started calling them Doppi-noises simply because no one reacts quite like how Doppi reacts. He’s so silly and there isn’t a single word in the English language to describe how silly he is.

He even talks to inanimate objects sometimes when he's alone. It's not much different from how he talks in front of others, but his voice is lower and gentler, and when he realizes you could hear him thank his oven for preheating and the mixing bowls for not spilling ingredients, he spouts out a flustered Doppi-noise with averted eyes and red along his face.

Hanging out with your boyfriend is never boring. He brings so much energy wherever he goes that anything becomes a story, including seemingly mundane things like studying.

Whenever you go grocery shopping he somehow always remembers that one thing you mentioned a few days ago that you wanted to buy but didn't put on the list, and buys it with his own money to give to you, but he doesn't remember to get his own stuff sometimes??

The amount of times Doppio bought you a snack or found a good deal on a candy you've been craving, but forgot to buy hand soap... he usually runs by himself to the store, grabs whatever he forgot, and then comes back to your door nearly out of breath.

Doppio always makes you laugh. He's so goofy when he tries to be, and so earnest when he's serious that his charm is never lost on you. He likes to make you smile.

On the days when your lives as Xsoleil students and streamers get too busy to pay attention to one another, you tend to watch his VODs while you work, and you can pretend like it's just another domestic day where you both tend to your own chores while still enjoying shared company.

You take a fifteen-minute break to reset your brain from working so hard, and you hear Doppio on stream offhandedly mention something with a giggle, and you cackle when you realize it's an inside joke you both share. Then you notice no one in chat even pays attention to what he just said, and you laugh out loud even more. Even when you're apart, he's still thinking about you. He's loyal to a fault.

To this day Doppio still tweets his nonsensical ramblings. But sometimes you reply to them like you understand exactly what he's trying to say! You roll with his humor so well and so quickly after he tweets sometimes, that not only are your fans totally surprised you can comprehend him, but some of your other coworkers in Nijisanji have to ask you to translate what he's saying.

Confession incoming: most of the time you don't understand entirely. But when he checks Twitter and notices the reply from you, his face lights up, and rolling with it makes him bright as a sunbeam. To be fair, you get a lot of his jokes that no one else does. You know how to quip with him and he appreciates it a lot.

Doppio's energy is always infectious, but only so intense when he wants to be. He's always uniquely himself, but he can chill out, and he appreciates when he can. The D in Doppio Dropscythe stands for Downtime!

The whole chuuni thing isn't an act—that's just how he is—but sometimes it's nice when he doesn't need to constantly proclaim his position as the Duke of Discipline. Sometimes it's nice to know he can come home to his Devoted that already knows he's the greatest cheftective out there no matter what he does.

By the way, when you're alone by yourselves, he calls you his Devoted. You think it's so dramatic for the little moments and he thinks it's a bit embarrassing, but neither of you have figured out another word for "lover" that starts with a D, so, Devoted it is.

(Meanwhile you call him Doppippi. Not so chuuni, and you don’t call him that regularly—too mushy—but you swear his face gets a little more colorful whenever you call him by that name.)

It nearly drives you insane how cute Doppio can be. Here he is, one of the tallest and fittest people you know, with piercings and eyeliner and messy hair, and pointed eyes that scream punk rock energy—but he coos at any animal he sees and sticks out his tongue a little whenever he's concentrating on a game, and he turns pink as your hand brushes against the inside of his wrist.

But at the same time, he's still such a badass that you can't resist him. He likes to mess around and tease you, and he knows how to use his appeal to his advantage. It’s no secret he has a sadistic streak, either.

It’s the best of both worlds. He’s so hardcore that it makes the gap moe even more effective when he decides to be cute, and when he's soft and silly it just serves as even harder whiplash when he acts cool.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You entered Doppio's streaming room with a glass of water and a light snack, and exchanged a few words while Doppio was typing out a before-stream message on his waiting screen.

So how did you get here, a finger wired under his collar to bring him closer, his hands eager as they clutch around the shirt on your back?

You kiss him, hungry and stupid, drawn to his magnetism. His teeth are pointed. They leave imprints on your tempted mouth, dragging magma over your thoughts, the blind come-ons that dusted over what makes sense. The stream should be starting soon but you can’t find it in yourself to resist.

Steam rises where Doppio hangs his tongue along yours, and so do his hands, large palms rubbing up your back and fingers on your shoulders. You’ve learned that he purrs when pleased; a soft, soothed groan pours from the corners of curved lips. Like an engine muffled by your connection.

You readjust, parting just enough to speak, though your words bounce back into his mouth. “You should prepare for the stream.”

“Done.” He holds you along your neck next, ready to go another round.

“Your Scythekicks are going to get lonely.”

“But I don’t wanna stop kissing you.”

“I don’t want to either,” you say. “I mean, you can always delay by fifteen.”

“I’ll send the message in chat, ‘kay?”

Even though the keyboard is just inches away, Doppio still brings you in with a loose arm around your shoulder and neck. Your forehead presses up to his cheek, not quite a hug but just as casually intimate. He removes his arm when he places a quick smooch to your temple.

By now all of Xsoleil’s vtuber talents are pros at sending delay messages and Doppio is no exception. The keys clack along in a steady cadence, until the tapping patters out, slowly and surely, with gaps of space between every keystroke.

It’s comedic like everything Doppio does whether he knows it or not. One final key sounds out before your boyfriend folds his hands over his mouth, and lets out a tiny “Huh?”

He stares at the screen. It’s strange to see him this motionless. You’re not too concerned, until you watch his head sink into his hands. “Er, Doppippi? You alright?”

Doppio buries his head a little bit further. It muffles him as he softly chants. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“What’s the matter?”

“No no no no no no no no noooo.”

"Did something happen?" You pat his head comfortingly, before looking back up at the screen, where he was typing into chat. "It usually isn't this difficult for you to send a message..."

Metamrph: HELLO??

sola: TSKR

🐣 AikosVoid: READER AND DOPPIO

AKENJIV: no way taht jsut happened imgcrying

eurelin mystic: SHIP CONFIRMED 💖💖💖

rin: WHAT DID I MISS IM LATE

~tiaramiisu~: should i give u kids some privacy lol

in-d4krness: READER HAS MAIDENS

"...Ah."

Doppio groans. You wish you could groan too, but your throat goes too dry to make a sound. The floor can't swallow you up fast enough.

"Um, I, uhhh," you say eloquently. "S-surprise?"

You've never seen the chat go this fast for so long. You can barely read individual messages before they speed away to make room for new ones.

messXed-up!: CLIPPERS GET YOUR CAMERAS

kierri: doppippi is such a cute pet name help

AKENJIV: this is crazy

sola: AAAAAAA

lunasmortas: CONGRATS 💜💜💜

A normal broom: are reader and pio dating???

You nearly choke on your spit despite the moisture leaving your mouth. "Dating?"

By now, Doppio flopped down in his chair so much that he's flat against the desk. Even though embarrassment crawls down your back, your hand rubs his head and shoulders as reassurance while you continue. "Maybe we should've announced that we were dating sooner."

At that Doppio launches straight up in his seat like a bamboo shoot. "Yeah, but I wanted to do a special stream for it, and take viewers' questions and give bad love advice and have a column name like Doppi's Dreamy Passionland and then announce that we're together at the end!" His eyes squeeze shut as he spits out his thoughts, pink washing over his cheeks the more he talks. "But-but-but what's the point of the Scythekicks knowing I have rizz if they can tell I'm not a whiz?"

You know the blood is rushing to your head too, but even now, your shoulders raise as you giggle. "You know our fans would be supportive whether you had a stream or not."

"But the contenttttt," he whines. He blinks to life with a pout and puppyish eyes, a sign that he's being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. There's no hiding the fact that you're both mortified, but at least you know just as well as he does that he'll bounce back.

"Content later, whatever this is, now." You sheepishly look back at the screen. "Um, thanks for coming, everyone. How about, uh, Doppio and I take a thirty minute delay and we'll get back to you if the stream is still on the agenda."

You don't wait for any answers before you finish Doppio's half-written delay message, pin it to chat, and make triple-sure that the mic is muted this time.

Doppio rests his cheek on his palm, squishing his blush. "I could've done the stream, you know."

"Okay, but do you really want to after that fiasco?"

He averts his eyes, then relinquishes. "...Touché."

"Thought so," you say. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Nothing." Doppio slumps over and places his head on your shoulder, too exhausted to wrap his arms around you even though he leans into the fabric of your shirt and the body heat underneath it. "Let's just not do nothing."

So you take the initiative instead, and hold him properly, letting him sink like a weighted blanket. "You know, that was embarrassing, but if I can say? I'm glad they know we're an item."

He rests in the crook of your neck, letting you envelop him while tired hands lay on your back. "About time they figure out I'm yours." Your scent fills his nose and warms his blush, and even though he thought he was at his weakest on stream, he still finds his reservations breaking down as you let him be vulnerable, just for this moment. "But can't you be mine? Just for now."

You hug him tighter. "Always."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[partycatty]

can we get ninja mine johnny and we’re riding him and pulling on his little scarf like it’s a reign and his makeups getting all smudge and he’s overstimulated and about to cry

love you 💙💙

ohmyfuixdindgodyes love u MORE 🩷

johnny cage > silent movie

you and your co-star sneak off for some costumed fun

warnings: u get FRICKED, porn with like the slightest tinge of plot, johnny whimpers, author prays to a mk1 ninja mime altar on the daily (the one in the armageddon chapter was mk11 johnny, dammit!), you're also wearing a stupid costume, cockwarming?

notes: pookie ur goin CRAZY in my inbox rn ily for it

[ masterlist ]

• you two swore to keep it professional, but every brush of a hand against your ass or the way you'd press against him in scenes you were backed into his body only sent you too into a dazed neediness. johnny especially.

• the agent that put you up to this contract was a godsend, you realized. at first you saw a hefty paycheck for a ninja mime sequel, but then you got to see johnny in all his glory. even with that stupid, stupid makeup on, you had to wonder if you were quite literally soaking through your own ridiculous clown-doctor getup.

• the tension hit a hard peak when you two were given a break when some of the equipment malfunctioned, and although instructed to remain close, johnny gripped your arm and looked into your eyes with what you could only describe as a carnal desire. a look you knew far too well, one that suited his features nicely.

• you could barely close the door to your trailer before he's sauntering up to you, and you only get a quick glimpse at his raging hard-on before he's snaking his hands around your sides.

• foreplay is a myth when he's crawling up your side, placing sloppy open mouth kisses against your neck. there's no time to giggle at the lipstick marks he leave behind because he's already trying to seek more contact by humping his boner against your thigh. you almost want to tease him for his desperation. who would have thought that an a-lister like himself was such... a needy whore?

• needing to get impossibly closer, your hand finds the red scarf hanging neatly around his neck and you tug with fervor, massaging your lips into his so hard that you feel the sudden border of his teeth. all the while, he's rutting into your thigh and dropping lazy whimpers, spewing about how much he needs you.

• needing to feel how hot and hard you make him, you tug his costume upward, exposing his delicious abs and giving you plenty of access to his waistband. you sink under hungrily, wrapping your hands around his shaft the moment you can make out its form, stroking over the veins and only barely making it to his tip with each movement. johnny pulls away from your lips only to breathe, gasping at the sudden skin contact and lurching forward to bite down on your shoulder.

• if anyone heard you two, you'd definitely face a consequence that felt too distant at the moment. now, you had a pretty boy begging for your body, and i dunno about you but that takes number one priority.

• you pull him from your shoulder and push him onto the couch of your trailer, a devious glint in your eye. he falls back with a husky "oof," legs spread and waiting for whatever you'll do to him. you counter this preparation by pushing his legs back together and fumbling with the rope belt that held up his costume's pants.

• his cock springs free of the getup, curving down him with a thick, clear droplet of precum sliding down his shaft. you stick out your tongue and gather a palmful of saliva, coating him evenly and messily. you needed him inside of you just as much as he needed - well, he'd take anything you'd give him.

• your pants are shaken off quickly as you straddle his thick thighs, hiking up your lab coat with your clean hand as you reveal your wet pussy to him. his dick visibly twitches at the sight, and he lets out a deep, rumbly sigh.

• it's clear that between your mixture of fluids and the heat in the room, you're both ready. you spread your folds out wide as you do your best to encapsulate his cock inside of you, feeling burned by the stretching but accepting it like it's your destiny. it doesn't take too long for your hips to meet his, and all johnny can do is whimper and cover his mouth, head tilting back as even glancing at you would make him cum. an embarrassing threat from the man who's a self proclaimed playboy sex god.

• "let's see how silent this mime can stay," you giggle to yourself as you shamelessly swivel on his cock, earning a heavy buck upward. johnny is shaking, quite literally trembling over your pussy. he wants nothing more than to worship your body and taste everything you give.

• as your pace picks up, you realize you're fed up from only seeing the underside of his chin, and you tug on the scarf again to get his head to snap up to face you. his eyes widen at the sensual horror in front of him, you're riding him like a damn bull.

• johnny normally yaps, but you've rendered him a pathetic disaster of a man. he can only mutter curses and whimper your name like a prayer, like if he doesn't reach the quota of saying it you'll disappear. tears prick in the corners of his eyes as you tug on the sides of his neck from the fabric.

• disgusting slapping echoes off of the tiny trailer's walls, and johnny's hands fly to your ass to squeeze your cheeks. alternating between gripping the side of the couch cushion and your ass is the most he can bring himself to do.

• your fist keeps a firm grip on the scarf, but you tilt your palm up to insert a thumb into his mouth, one that he accepts embarrassingly quickly. his tongue flattens as he tastes your thumb, eyelashes fluttering shut as he blinks away tears.

• thank god the studio didn't invest in waterproof makeup, because you swear you've seen the sight underneath you in a medieval painting or some shit. he looked good, too good. johnny's tears melted down the sides of his face, leaving flesh-toned streaks behind. his pink lips were more apparent past the lipstick. you ruined him.

• his fingers dig into your asscheeks with pure delight, his hips now sloppily bucking up into you to meet you halfway with each drop. a part of you wanted to tie his arms down with the scarf and take control, but he was such a good boy for you, so patient.

• you mutter praises, your hand in his mouth now raking through his hair, knocking that damn beret from his head and ruffling his brown locks. the praises sounded like the angels of heaven calling his name, and he shot upward with one final, deep whine. just as you felt him twitch and empty himself inside of you, a firm knock was on your trailer door.

• "ms. lastname, the issue's been resolved. we're going to retrieve mr. cage and get back to filming," a production assistant drones into the crack of your door to get the message through. your hand returns to his mouth, this time holding it against his mouth to muffle his orgasmic whimpers.

• it took all these years of acting lessons to finally pay off, as you keep your voice level and as normal as you could possibly muster.

• "coming!" you reply with a devilish grin as you feel him continue to paint your insides, his eyes rolling back as he heavily pants through his nose. all you can do is sit there and take in every drop he gives you, unmoving on his cock to not alert the assistant outside.

• when you determine the coast to be completely clear, you lift yourself off of him, clenching your thighs tight. johnny gasps and frowns at the sudden coldness around his semi-hard dick, like he wasn't quite done with you.

• "you'd better come up with a good excuse for that," you say, making a circular motion with your finger at his makeup-clad face. he drunkenly grins at you, lopsided and low-lidded. "you look ruined."

• "good," he replies sleepily, still beaming like a fool. "is it a good look on me?"

• "very much so, ninja mime."

[gayboyasher]

Can you please do la squadra reacting to the reader calling them “cute”? (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

I just really need some fluff rn

FLUFF is the WAY!! I had to re-do this because my dumbass closed out the app and forgot to save, and I was just about to Melone 😭😔 anyway, I gave them things that they probably do that are cute. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with them

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Rissotto

Rissotto does this thing where when he’s concentrated, he furrows his brows and looks frustrated, but it’s so cute at the same time. He was doing this whole working, and you just had to tell him how cute he was!

At first, he seemed confused, cute?? Really?

He laughs softly, trying to think of something to say to that.

“Sole mio, I’m working.”

He doesn’t mean it in a mean way, but now he’s distracted from you pointing it out.

His focus turns to stopping his “quirk”, and then that gets him distracted.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto taps his fingers. He taps them on any surface, or he’ll just tap his fingers against his thumb. He’ll especially do this while he’s taking a phone call. Once he gets off the phone you tell him about it.

He looks at you like your crazy. He thinks it’s crazy.

Prosciutto is very much a macho man. He believes that the word cute is something not to describe masculine things, especially him.

He sighs and shakes his head in disappointment, finger wag and all. He doesn’t even say anything.

He’s another one who tries to stop it, and boy was he not able to do it.

Someone needs to explain to this poor boy he doesn’t have to be embarrassed to be called cute

Pesci

Pesci tends to hum. He’ll hum a tune that’s been stuck in his head and it’ll get stuck into your head. He’s also just cute doing absolutely nothing. He’s cute in general. Someone needs to say it.

Once you tell him that, he goes red. He doesn’t know how to take a compliment, so he’s just stuttering and stammering, trying to compliment you.

His ears are already hot and his mind is blank.

“You really mean it? You’re cuter!”

God, he’s completely flustered.

He doesn’t try to get rid of the habit, but still thinks about it

Formaggio

Formaggio actually is also another cutie. He could sit there and be cute. But I see him acting all cute trying on clothes and flexing in them.

Once you tell him he’s cute he’s a little shocked, but not in any bad way.

He’s another macho man, but he’s not gonna be upset by being called cute!

He thinks of it as you hyping him up even more.

“Awh, you really think so? You must think I’m handsome too, huh? You’re pretty cute yourself.”

He just tries to embarrass you.

Illuso

He uses his computer quite a bit, and he focuses hard. When ever he does, he sticks his tongue out just slightly and squints his eyes. It’s actually adorable if you think about it.

Knowing his online history, he was probably in the middle of cyber bullying while you said that.

He’s a little flustered, but he understands the hype, he is the finest one out of the team (in his opinion)

“You really think so? Even when I’m being so mean?”

Another teaser. He’s gonna be cocky.

He doesn’t try to get rid of the quirk either, but he stops squinting his eyes.

Melone

ANOTHER one on his computer. You don’t even wanna know what’s on his computer, but his face looks so gentle and calm. He’s another one who can just sit there and be cute.

When you first initially call him cute, he doesn’t realize you’re even talking to him.

It takes him a second and once he notices, he smiles and looks up at you

His face gets a tad bit hot, and he wants to make you feel the same way.

“Miele, you really think so? I think you’re cuter.”

He teases, and he teases well.

He teases in a nice way. It’s actually cute

Ghiaccio

When he’s concentrated, he bites his lip gently. It’s actually very cute, and it seems to be one of the only times he’s not angry.

He takes it like an insult at first

He’s not a macho man, but he thinks it was passive aggressive.

“What does that mean Amore?? Was that backhanded or something??”

You have to explain to him that you’re not trying to be mean

Another poor boy who can’t take compliments.

[berryhobii]

More (kth x reader) a Drabble

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x black!female!reader

Warnings: smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), cowgirl position, I don’t mention it but they’re doing it in a chair, squirting, mentions of edging, mentions of orgasm denial, orgasms(f receiving), spanking

A/N: AHHHHHH! I’ve been so so busy with work and my baby that I’ve barely had time to write or proofread or post. I’ve also been in such a rut with my WIPs that I’ve been a little unmotivated but I’m sure I’ll be out of it soon🤕please send me your good energy. This is just a little drabble; it’s actually my Distracted Driver couple. If you haven’t read that, it’s okay. Essentially, Tae and reader are amateur p*rn stars. I’m thinking of just making a bunch of little drabbles for them. I scrap a ton of smut scenes that I can easily turn into straight up p*rn content for them. I’m working on it along with lots of new ideas so please bear/bare(?) with me. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate and have a wonderful day to those who don’t. Stay safe 🩵🩵I don’t describe reader in this so imagine them however you want!

~

Oh fuck baby!”

The loud clapping and wet noises could be heard down the block. With every bounce, your ass met his thighs in a deep bass similar to a gunshot. Paired with your gasps of air and moans, it sounded like you two were straight out of a porno.

Coincidentally, that’s just what the camera was filming so you must be doing a good job.

Taehyung’s hands were gripping you so hard that it hurt, your ass already on fire from the series of slaps he’s been landing on it all night. The tingling of the pain only fueled your pleasure further.

Your own hands were digging into his broad shoulders, manicured nails leaving thin scratch marks across his tan back.

“This pussy feels so good. So fucking tight.” He growled in your ear, his baritone sending sparks down your back. It only made more wetness leak from your pussy; sticky honey like arousal dripping down his cock and onto his thighs. Everything was so wet and hot and pulsing, temperature climbing and your pleasure beginning to crest.

His huge cock was pushing in and out of your velvet walls, being constricted by the tightness of your heat. You felt so much wetter than usual for some reason. Maybe it was the fact he had edged you for close to 30 minutes, pulling out right before you came, only to push back inside and do it all over again. You’d be getting your lick back for that later.

But now, he was struggling to hold back, his own orgasm settling in his balls.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” You cried, back arching as you began throwing yourself back harder on his cock. He groaned, slapping your ass again, own hips lifting to meet yours. The head of his cock brushed against the sweet spot deep inside of you again and again, cervix practically begging for his cum.

“Do it.” A slap to your ass, mouth sucking another hickey onto your throat. You sat up, eyes locking with his hooded ones. Fuck, he looked so sexy with his sweaty hair and the deep furrow of his brows. The clench of his jaw letting you know he was close. “Cum all over my cock.”

And you did. Hard enough for you to squirt. You screamed, lifting yourself from his cock to give the camera a full view of your wet pussy. Your legs shook from the force of your orgasm, Taehyung holding your ass cheeks apart to capture the moment.

You had barely come down from the body tingling orgasm before your pussy was begging for another one.

You leaned an arm back to fit his throbbing cock back inside your walls with a whisper of, “more.”

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love, chapter 6

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter seven ♥ summary: after the overlord meeting, zestial pulls you aside to talk to you like a grandpa about love. love? "Thou art in denial, little one." what a pointless observation. of course you aren't in love. ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 5.8k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: alastor brushes reader's hair, zestial does NOT lock in ♥ no tag list rn :3

You wake up rather early to the feeling of Alastor shaking the bed. You groan. Why has he been welcoming himself into your room? When you peek, you notice his claws digging into the mattress to keep hold as he rocks the bed back and forth. "I'm awake," you sign with one weak hand.

Slowly letting go, the bed stops shaking. But the tears are still there. “And about time too, darling. I’ve been trying to wake you up for ten seconds.”

"What is it this time?" You ask, rubbing your hands across your face. "Tell me you have a good reason, please. I'm begging."

He leans and reaches out to gently ruffle your hair as if trying to annoy you further.

“My, someone’s rather grumpy so early in the morning. And I do have a good reason, my dear. I assure you of that.”

"Go on."

He claps his hands together before signing. "I've decided to take you with me, can you guess as to where?"

"I'm too tired for your games."

In a slight touch, he holds your back and guides you to sit up. "Guess. It's somewhere you loved going, for some reason."

Ah. Something you loved but Alastor hated.

"It's the overlord meeting today, isn't it?" You pipe up immediately. "And you're taking me?"

“Ah, my, how observant of you. You’re absolutely right, it is the overlord meeting today, and I am going to bring you with me.” He says, a smirk appearing on his face at your sudden guess, and he confirms the information immediately without hesitation. Ding ding ding. "And I know what you're thinking. You don’t need to worry about them accepting you or not, actually, the last time I went, they asked about you. Quite worried, they were.”

"Really?"

"No," he laughs. "I fibbed. But stand, you need to get ready."

You stand, sighing deeply. It's too early for all of this. While you head towards the bathroom, he opens your wardrobe, looking through the clothes he could dress you in. The bathroom door is slightly open, giving you some sort of comfort, knowing he will walk in rather than appear behind you. You run the brush through the end of your hair, biting the inside of your lip.

He quickly makes a small face at your wardrobe, realizing that most of your clothes are plain and boring; where were all the ones he made for you? He has half-a-mind to burn most of them and buy you all new ones.

He noticed the bathroom door was open as he looked through your clothes and heard you brushing your hair. Stepping forward, he watched the sight, and he smiled.

Your eyes immediately lock on his before you kick the door closed. And in a rare moment, you use your voice. "You're so weird, Alastor!"

He chuckles once you close the door on him, and he can hear your words from the other side. He huffs to himself, muttering. “I’m weird, darling? Now, now, that’s a harsh way of describing your favorite overlord, don’t you think?”

The lovely sound of your accent doesn't escape him. He lingers in it, standing in place with a growing smile before returning to the closet. He knows you'd hate if he lingered too long on your voice. You've trusted him enough to expose it to him. Now, which dress to pick?

His fingers run across the lace. You always looked good in lace. The red sleeves you would wear were his favorite. Do you have those here?

His ears perch when you knock on the wall.

"Which one are you going to pick?" With a brush in your hand and the other free, you continue. "Please let it be something cute. Don't make me match with you again."

“Ah, so you don’t want to match with me again?” He signs, raising a brow before stepping closer toward you, his smirk growing again. “But you looked absolutely to die for last time!”

"I know you think so," you roll your eyes. Your morning smile is more casual than it tends to be. "Imagine how silly it would be if we walked in wearing similar things. That's humiliating."

It's all teasing. More than humiliating, it would be hilarious.

He steps closer, not appreciating your words very much. A smirk appears on his face again as he gently grabs some of your hair between his fingers.

“Oh, don’t act all modest, darling. I know just how much you loved matching with me. You absolutely adored it.” He teases back, testing your tone, his smirk becoming more mischievous.

"Sure," You won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's right. "Is that going to be your final decision, or do I get a say in my outfit?" You place the hairbrush on your dresser; he eyes it. He considering picking it up. But he quickly glances over at you once more, his smirk growing even wider than before

“My, look at you, all confident and stubborn. And I suppose I’ll let you have a choice in your outfit, after all. Give me a show!"

"Alright," You step past him, plucking certain dresses to remind you what they are. Red, red, red. Alright, maybe you're going to end up matching him. "Black? Would black satisfy you?"

He can see the exact moment you realize you would be matching with him regardless.

“Oh, don’t worry about satisfying me, darling. You always look lovely no matter what you wear. But maybe you should choose the other color.” He signs in a sarcastic yet still polite manner, crossing his arms as he watches your expression closely.

You make a clicking noise and flicker the hangers to the side. And there he spots it, a red dress with lace sleeves. Alastor's heart skips a beat. His eyebrows immediately furrow at the sensation. His chest tightened, but only for a moment. He needs to collect himself.

"That one," he stands beside you and touches it, running his fingers down it.

"This dress? It's so old." You laugh.

"Yes, this one. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you wearing it.” He said, taking a long moment to let his eyes thoroughly examine the dress before looking up at you again. “I still remember the first time you wore it, you looked absolutely lovely in it, darling. You still do.”

"I'll wear it then." You take it off the hanger and place it against your chest, testing the look in the standing mirror beside your bed. "It even looks old. But you like this style, don't you? I suppose the lace is a little contemporary, though."

You sign with one hand, something that always makes him smile. You would have to do that long ago when you didn't want him to know what you said. Now, he can understand it perfectly.

Without words, he walks over and stands next to you, staring at your reflection in the mirror. "Do you need help getting undressed?"

"What? No!"

But by his smile, you see that he was only joking.

You huff. "Turn around, or get out of here."

“My, my, so cruel.” He still turns away from you, giving you some privacy. He doesn't leave.

You swiftly remove your nightgown and go to your dresser for the underlayers. They're all folded neatly. Interesting. Your conclusion came quickly; he must have done that while you were sleeping. Was he watching you sleep? Of course he was.

The cotton underlayers hug you tightly. The red dress isn't as puffy as your usual ones. It's only three layers: a ruffle that appears at the bottom, the bodice, and then the overall, which shines red. There's a dip in the necklace down the center of your chest where your music can come through. The sleeves fall to your fingers, moving gently at your every movement. It still hasn't dawned on you why he noticed this dress specifically. You even give a childish swirl as you assess yourself.

You clap your hands.

He smiled brightly as he heard the rustling of clothes and fabric behind him, silently imagining what you were doing. He can almost see the exact expression on your face, ideal in his head, as you are doing so. You often have a light in your eyes when you show off your clothing to him. Old body language that he's always remembered.

The moment you clap, his smile grows wider again as he silently smiles and slowly turns around. As soon as he entirely turns, his eyes fall onto you.

“Looking as lovely as ever, darling.”

"Why, thank you." You curtsey, even going all in and crossing your ankles and dipping your head. You laugh before you look back up at him. His heart can't stop racing. Your courtesy has him silently cursing to himself at the sight; as you link eyes with him, he quickly forces a casual smile on his face as he stares at you.

“How polite! I’ve never seen you curtsy before.”

He says, trying to push down his senses.

"Courtesy of the era." You wave your hand dismissively, one of your most casual tendencies. "It fits the moment. Anyway, shall we be on our way?"

“Yes, yes, we should get going. They’ll be waiting for us after all, but before we go, I'm afraid I've forgotten something." Alastor drops his hands and takes a small step forward.

"Don't loom like that. It scares me."

“Oh, my darling, do you know that you get increasingly amusing every day? But I’m not going to do anything to you, I promise; I was just going to…help you with something, dear.” He looks you up and down for another moment. He quickly glances towards your dresser. Your eyes go up and down your body. Is your speaker dusty? Is it a ripped seam? He'd definitely catch something like that. A small patch of blood? No, there's no way you'd not notice.

His eyes follow yours as you analyze yourself.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that, don’t worry, darling. You look absolutely perfect.” Once again, his gaze shifted towards your dresser, and he walks towards it.

The hairbrush.

You scoff. "Really?"

"I just noticed your hair, do you mind?”

He said, gently picking up the hairbrush and staring at it momentarily, a smile still on his face. You hum.

"Go ahead, I won't stop you." You take a breath before turning around. Imagine how funny it would be if he just wacks you with it.

He stands behind you closely, looks at your hair, and raises the hairbrush to begin brushing it.

Him touching you feels so natural. There's even a softened tone to your music, stereotypical romantic tunes. He rolls his eyes. Where's the jazz?

He can practically sense the enjoyment radiating off of you. His brushes are gradual and gentle.

He's stalling. You reach over my head and grab his wrist, turning your body. "That's enough, my love. Are you satisfied? Let's get going."

He slowly stops, raises a brow, and lowers the hairbrush back to his side. “Oh, you have no patience this morning, my love. Don’t be in such a rush.”

You give him a small smile, leaning in, your eyes widening. "You're the one that woke me up. Don't tell me the meeting isn't for a long time."

“No, no, the meeting is early, we do have to get going soon. But we do could play with the clock…” He mimics your usual behavior by waving his hand dismissively.

"Alastor. Come on, now I'm excited for it. Your fault."

It doesn't leave your mind that he wants to spend time with you. It may be worth being a little late. It's not as if everybody is always on time. Plus, you've always loved a grand entrance.

“Of course you are. We’ll get going in a moment.”

You turn your head, furrowing your brows. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything’s fine! Why do you ask?"

"Alastor, be serious. Is something wrong or do you really just miss me?" The second option puts a lopsided smile on your face. Is the Radio Demon missing you? Missing? Missing? He has admitted feeling that way once or twice before, but having him be so obvious about it is a bit off-putting.

"Eh, just a little." When he does the sign, he squints his eye to add emphasis. When he sees your smile, your knowing smile, and he just can't keep up the act any longer. "Maybe."

"We'll be together when we walk. Alastor, please. You're stressing me out." You grab his hand, making bold contact, trying to pull him along.

He is caught slightly off guard. He stays in place momentarily before sighing and finally giving in, letting you pull him along until he steps forward and opens your bedroom door for you. When you step through, his shadow closes it for him, and he walks by your side. He patiently intertwines his fingers with yours.

It doesn't last long. When you leave the hotel doors, Alastor pulls away, straightening his tie and repositioning his smile. "Let's get a move on."

"Thank you."

He side-eyes you, rolling his eyes, stepping along with confidence only an overlord can have. You follow along with the same conviction. The city feels different when your chin is lifted and a smirk on your face the entire time. Your music draws everybody away except Alastor, who is pleased with your impact on the weak souls around you. Good girl.

You end up walking ahead of him, a skip almost in your step. That tall building that you love so much comes into view. And as you step through the alley, he glares at the security cameras. His eyes narrow, and he stares straight at it in a challenging manner before looking away and continuing to follow after you. Ridiculous.

You turn to him. "Will everything be okay?" You take a deep breath, but your smile doesn't leave your face despite your anxiety. "I need to hear it."

His head tilts, staring at you in a somewhat confused manner. "There is nothing to worry about."

His eyes soften, only just a bit, but it's something that you'll always notice. He wants to make sure you are satisfied with his answer.

"Perfect, thank you. That's all I needed to hear." You turn on your heel, not even giving him a chance to respond before clicking the button for the elevator, waiting and staring up at it. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and your speaker even pulsates a bit. You never dreamed you'd be able to come to another meeting.

He is tempted to keep talking, to try and say something else to you, but there's no way he would break your concentration.

He stays silent then, just watching you as he waits with you.

The elevator takes a long time, or is it because time slows when he looks at you? Your smile remains on your face; is it because of him?

He bites down the urge to touch the low of your back, to hold you like the gentleman he is.

It's almost as if you can tell if you felt his eyes on you. You step closer to him, bumping your shoulder into his, but the elevator dings before you can do anything further. He motions to it, and you race him inside.

"Are we on time?" You glance down at the alley below as it starts to get farther. "I hope Camilla doesn't get upset."

“We’re on time, don’t worry. Camilla won’t get upset. She’s still very…very particular, is all…”

"I know that much."

His urges get the best out of him. He holds your waist, turning you around when it's time to exit the elevator. Immediately, the sight of the long white table sparks happiness. And all of your former friends sit together. Control yourself. You raise your chin, saunter, and hold your hands before yourself. When Camilla straightens, you just give her a nod. Her eyes flicker down to your speaker, looking back at your face.

What does my music sound like? Oh, goodness me.

Alastor obnoxiously drags a chair from the end to one next to his. The second person you look at is Zestial. He interlocks his fingers when he sees you, sending a slight nod your way, which you smile as you return. Elder to elder.

Camilla's large hands lift, her signing a bit rusty, but she manages to convey the simple.

Angels, angels, angels. Of course that's all it is. That's all it ever seems to be. But this time is different. A dead one? That's new. You eye Alastor, who just stares at her. He's known this.

The most exciting part of the meeting is when it ends, not because of the excusing but because of how Zestials lifts his hand, addresses the others, signs to you, and asks you to stay, alone. It's similar to when a teacher asks you to stay after class. You turn to Alastor, your bright smile granting him no pleasure. He's going to wait outside whether you like it or not. He's on his way regardless, standing guard by the elevator, eyeing you while you sit next to the oldest overlord.

When Zestial lifts his hands, your shoulders relax. He signs in the way you signed growing up. His hands hang low, and his head always faces you. It has a touch of French, it's proper, and it's lovely. But the best part about it is how Alastor will never be able to understand.

"What hath compelled thee to venture back?"

Your mind flickers your memory to Alastor's discreet name sign.

"Oh, just Alastor business. The typical things. I've missed you dearly, old friend. I've missed your accent. It's treacherous to try and sign to these children."

"Alastor? T'is of no surprise, I suppose. He hast ever been full of whimsy and caprice. Pray tell, hast he roped thee into his wild plans?"

Your heart skips a beat. His plans? What has he planned? Zestial has always been more knowledgeable than you and always will be. He can read people like no other. And he knows something you don't. "As always, you know him. And you know me. I'll go along on whatever trail he drags me through."

"How predictable. Though art truly a sap to his antics, as thou has always hast. Such fun he has with the strings of thy heart, pulling and tugging, dancing you about, like one of his radio plays."

Though he pierces you, you just roll your eyes. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Not what I imagined for our reunion, dearest you."

He chuckles and sips his tea, swirling it around in his cup. "A fair query, little one. This conversation art simply a preamble. I desire more knowledge, to quench my curiosity."

"Go ahead."

"Thou art always a bold one. Very well, I shall entertain."

But he stops at that, taking another sip of his tea as if dwelling on something.

You interrupt, trying to stop him from what seems to be the worst sentence you'll ever process in your life.

"I change my mind! Shall we change the topic? Don't you remember how beautiful the snow was? I miss it. Do you miss snow?"

He nods and grins faintly, his expression softening at the memory. "Ah, yes. The snowfall... I recall it vividly. How Hell's time doth fly..."

He gazes at you with curiosity when you get antsy over Alastor, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Little one, I am sure Alastor's antics have led ye to this point. Though there is a query, little one, I wish to ask of ye."

Another 'go-ahead' almost makes its way to your hands. "Anything."

He hums to himself, tapping his claws against the side of his teacup. He then looks back at you, his gaze gentle and warm.

"Little one, what is the extent of thy love for Alastor?"

An audible woah leaves your lips. But you cover it up with a sly smile. "Why would you think I love him?"

He takes a long sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving yours. He puts it down. "Because of the way thou art around him. The way thou smile in his presence. The way thou speak with him, how thy eyes light up in his company. How thou would jump at the chance to do something for him. All signs point to love. And thou seem shocked and surprised for some reason. Ah, how have I forgotten. Your lullabies."

You close your eyes; he's undoubtedly testing your patience. But over what? Counterproductive accusations? Though the memories of Alastor's small caresses and willingness to put himself out of his comfort to make you smile play on repeat. Love, what a silly word. "Perhaps I love him in the slightest bit. But he's a dear friend, and don't be fooled, dearest. Nothing will ever come from it."

"Thou art in denial, little one. Doth thou truly think I cannot sense the stirring in thy heart when thou art around him? Love is a powerful force... though I imagine it may frighten and confuse one such as thyself." He smiles, mildly scolding.

"I would certainly never die for him. That's a part of love, isn't it? Devotion. I haven't devoted myself nor have I given my soul to him. We are companions. We will always be." There you go again, pessimistic towards the future.

"Devotion is a part of love, yes. But there are many different kinds of love, little one. Not all require the sacrifice of one's soul. However, companions you say, is that all he is to thee, then?"

No. "Yes, of course." The response is short. You focus your stare on Zestial's. You've definitely missed these conversations very much, no matter how annoying they may be. Talking to Zestial is like having a coffee with a distant friend. "A companion."

"Companion... that is what thee claims, but thy heart say otherwise. Dost thou recall the saying "denial is the first stage of grief"? Because it fits quite nicely in this condition." He grins, enjoying the banter. His little counterpart is getting so frustrated over something so simple.

"Zestial, excuse me, if you are so certain I am in love then what do you say I should do about it? What do you think? Bestow upon me your words, but make them kinder, please and thank you."

"Very well, little one. If thou truly wish for mine advice, I shall give it. Be warned, though... it may not be the answer thou is expecting." He pauses momentarily, "Thou art hesitant to admit it, but thou do love the radio demon. That much is clear to see. Doth thou wish for the chance to... act on thy feelings?"

And then you finally give in, not fighting it anymore, sighing and placing a hand on your temple, massaging it while you piece together words. You start to sign. "He'll hate me if I do."

Zestial is taken aback by your expression and how vulnerable you seem. You have never let him see this emotion. You add, "I'm being serious."

He nods in acknowledgment and sighs gently. "I see... thou art more serious than I thought. Dost thou truly fear his rejection and hate, then?"

"I just wonder if he'd disappear again. He say he'll always be here with me, but you know how he is." You huff. "Empty promises. But who can blame him? Maybe it's my fault for always believing him."

He nods again. He knows Alastor's nature well, the empty promises, and the endless chaos he brings.

Zestial basks in at the pain in your eyes. Your music affects everybody around you; that much is an unmistakable fact. It's probably torturing the people outside as you speak. He remains untouched.

"Ah... so thou are worried he will disappear once more, leaving thou behind. Is that the true fear within thy heart?"

"That's all there is. I don't know anything else he would do, realistically. Let's not play with the impossible."

"Thou are a wise one, little one." He pauses, contemplating his words, standing from his seat before continuing. "Let us speak in hypotheticals, then. Just humour me this one time, my dear melody."

"I know what you're about to say, but proceed. I won't stop you. Though, don't expect me to answer." You try to act stubbornly, but your smile still comes.

"Very well. Then let us play a game of 'what if'." He says and starts to pace around you, his eyes studying you closely as he signs. "What if, just presume... the unthinkable happens. And for in this lifetime, Alastor actually reciprocates your feelings..."

"How would I tell? And I'm not going to say my feelings outright." You put a hand on your chest. "Goodness me, I'd rather die a second time. What a nightmare that would be."

"Ah, so thou would rather perish than confess thy feelings. Very well, I understand. Then, let us consider another path. Let us suppose that Alastor gives... a portent."

With the best of your ability, you lift your shaking hands. "His indications are a bit hazy, I'm afraid. Between the caresses and the kindness, there is a constant sense of confusion if that's his form of friendship or if he's treating me as if I'm special."

He stops pacing and stands in front of you. "Ah, yes. Alastor is certainly known for his puzzling ways. It can be difficult to decipher his intentions. Is that part of the reason why thou art so hesitant and fearful, because thou cannot be sure of his true feelings for thee?"

"I didn't know you were a therapist, Zestial. Is that a new trait?" Your smile twitches, and your eyebrows furrow. You sit on the table, keeping your eyes on him. "It's appalling."

"Ah, thou art trying to evade the question. But I see right through thee. 'Tis futile to try and hide the truth."

He steps closer to you, his expression sincere.

"Thou art frightened by the uncertainty, are thou not? The fear that Alastor does not truly share thy feelings."

"I think anybody would feel the same." Your eyes glance at the floor momentarily before looking up; a special glint is in them. "He picked this dress for me this morning. I think it holds a special memory for him. But I don't think I can even guess what it is. I can't place a specific time I've worn this before."

He looks you up and down, intrigued by the memory it holds. He hasn't the slightest clue, either.

"Ah, so he picked this dress for thee? Interesting..."

He muses to himself.

"And thou do not recall the specific time thou wore it before? Have thou ever worn it in his company?"

Your face starts to heat. Quickly, you realize that this is why you couldn't remember. "Perhaps I wore it whenever we went out. Maybe that's what it is. Every time we'd sit together at a cafe and just talk for hours. It's a good memory." It gives you a sinking feeling in your gut, and the memories spark that sick, dreadful feeling of love.

"Ah, that doth explain it. The memories thou share with Alastor, the hours spent conversing in cafes. It seems thy mind has chosen to associate this dress with those joyous moments."

He observes you closely, sensing a hint of something else stirring beneath the surface. A sinking feeling, a fear, perhaps? But of what?

"But I've worn other dresses too." It's your turn to pace. "Unless there was a certain spot we went to! No, we tended to stay in the same area. Maybe it was a murder we committed, a special one? Have I gotten this dress bloody before?" You look down. "No, I'd never."

"Thou art a detective now."

"Be serious." Your hands move frantically. "If you picked out a special dress for me, what reason would it be? What would you relate it to? Help me here, it would mean the world to him if I remembered, I know that."

"Very well, let me indulge thy curiosity for a moment. If I were to pick out a striking dress for thee, and thou were to associate it with a particular memory... A special occasion, a moment that holds meaning and emotion. Not a situation, but a moment."

A moment. You point out memories in your head. A kiss? No, you've never kissed. I love you? You've never said that, either. A hug? Is that significant enough? You two hug all the time now.

"None seem to resonate with thee just yet. Mayhaps there is something that thou is overlooking. A detail, small but meaningful." He takes a step closer, his eyes scanning over the dress.

"Do you know? Are you teasing me, Zestial?" The confusion on your face drops just a bit to accommodate your soft smile. "Has he talked to you about me?"

"Me? Teasing thee?" He feigns outrage, the notion warming your heart. "Perish the thought, my dear! But to answer thy question, yes, Alastor has spoken of thee. Many times, in fact."

"Oh goodness, what does he say? Good things, I plead." You stand directly before him, staring at him, matching his posture.

"Ah, little one, rest assured, it is nothing but good things he speaks of thee. His praise for thee knows no bounds. That is all."

"Has he mentioned the dress before? Ever? Knowing Alastor, what would you suppose his connection to this damn dress is?" It's bothering you more and more. What if Alastor gets hurt that you don't remember? Or is he betting that you won't? Oh no, what if it's something ridiculous?

"Ah, little one, thou art so eager to get to the bottom of this mystery." His shoulders drop as he sighs. "Alastor has never mentioned the dress itself to me. I apologize that I cannot assist further."

You stare at him for a long while, eyes locked on his. He holds your gaze. He's not lying. This is so frustrating.

"Alastor's waiting for me." You take a step back, hesitant to end the conversation. "I'm afraid I must go."

"I understand. Thou must not keep Alastor waiting." He holds back a chuckle at the thought of Alastor's impatience. "But before thou go, may I offer thee a parting thought?"

"Of course, dearest you. Continue." You place your hands behind your back, clenching your fists.

"I must ask you to consider the possibility that thou may never remember it. At least not right now."

When you think he is done talking, he grabs your attention again by putting a finger under your chin and tilting your head.

"And little one, have caution. Thou aren't worth the suffering."

You laugh, put a hand on your speaker, and feel your rapid heartbeat. "Is that all?"

"Do not allow the weight of thy own expectations, or the expectations of others, to overwhelm thee." He dips his head. "Farewell, my dear."

Your body works with automatics as you curtsey to him. He stares at you as you do. He smiles. Others have lost their manners over the centuries, especially to royals like yourselves.

"Farewell, Zestial."

You let out a breath as you step away. He's staring at your back. All you can do is hope that he's been letting you off easy, relieving you of a longer lecture.

Alastor stares at you, face neutral, his smile offering no context to his emotions.

Zestial eyes you, his eyes flickering to Alastor's before he makes his way towards Carmilla's chambers.

You smile, missing the notion. "Well, did you miss me? We can be on our way now."

Internally annoyed that you had spent so long talking to Zestial in a language he didn’t understand, his annoyance turned into slight confusion as his eyes briefly followed Zestial’s gaze.

“Ah, darling…did you have fun talking to Zestial again?”

"Always. He's a good friend." You press the button for the elevator, reaching in front of him to do so. You enter before adding on. "Perfectly so."

Perfectly so, hm? His irritation slowly grows. He stays silent for a moment, waiting with you in the elevator for a moment before he finally lifts his hands, his posture growing more tense, and his smile is slightly strained.

“You enjoy talking to him a lot, don’t you?”

"Don't be jealous, Alastor. It's just different. He'd never be able to replace you." Holding him softly, you reach out to his cheek, and he leans into your touch. He has a warmth that your body could never imitate. His cheeks are soft, the corner of his lips brushing against your thumb. But then you pinch his cheek, smiling at him as if he were a child. "Somebody your age wouldn't get it."

He swats your hand away, ears pinned to his head. "Your on the verge of death, my dear."

"Always so."

"Well, I hope you had fun, because you are prohibited from doing that again."

"I'll do it again eventually."

He snarls. "And I will eat you alive."

"I'm sure you will."

“Oh, you just love pushing my buttons, don’t you, darling…”

You just shrug, watching the familiar alleyway become ground level as the doors open. "It's the most fun a girl can have around here."

And with that, you walk off, not checking if he followed behind. He didn't; he didn't take a single step, sinking into his shadows to appear right in front of you. You catch yourself before bumping into him.

"Oh, no, no, no. You can't escape that easy."

"I wasn't trying to."

With how close his body is, you can only think of Zestial's words. Love. Is it true?

"Good. I'd never let you get away."

His warmth engulfs you as he wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, bringing you in for a hug. You don't know where to put your hands. Does he want you to hug him back, or is this only for a second? When his grip tightens, you softly place your hands on his shoulder blades, feeling their sharpness even through his coat.

And then he pulls away, tightening his bowtie. "Now that's done, let's head back. I have a lovely recipe I'd like you to try!"

"I'm excited."

Your body holds no signs of love. That's the way it should be. Even when he has you, you won't portray any emotion like that to him. He'd take advantage of it; you know he would.

Such fun he has with the strings of thy heart, pulling and tugging, dancing you about, like one of his radio plays.

Ah, you realize. Is he already?

.

.

.

ft.

LOCK IN ZESTIAL!!!

[goforshexgo]

Biblically accurate Dallas Winston

thinking about how we were robbed of seeing book accurate dally in the movie, I'm thinking about it rn. Like, dally was described to be so physically different from Johnny and even though they were so close they still behaved differently and had different personalities. I feel like their looks being so vastly different from each other was such a big thing even though it was a small thing ?? Like dally was described as almost white blond with blazing blue eyes he's described as hardened and his eyes having a hatred towards the world when Johnny is described as this innocent pitiful thing. "A puppy whos been kicked too many times." he has dark hair and tan skin and big dark eyes.

like dally represents what johnny could have become and johnny represents the same for dally

and this is just about their character symbolism not even touching on their actual relationship and what they meant to each other inside of the actual story

(these are two text I sent my friend mashed together and written in a hurry before my brain was too overwhelmed by this thought)

I need write an essay on this.