#and like. the first time was. pretty earned. you know

[toruslvt]

HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA

⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.

⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.

a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.

after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?

“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.

Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”

“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”

you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.

“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”

ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”

you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”

a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”

a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”

“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”

you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.

you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”

and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.

“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”

“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.

one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.

“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.

soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.

Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.

it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.

your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.

“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.

a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.

“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.

“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”

but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”

his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.

“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.

he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”

[teddynottss]

• - ARE YOU FLIRTING OR STARTING A FIGHT?- •

PAIRING(S): theodre nott x fem. reader

WARNING(S): smutt

SUMMARY: theodore and y/n are academic rivals, and when one time she gets into an argument with snape and gets detention, the slytherin boy finds a way to follow her there

A/N: thanks for 100 followers ily all 💓

——————————————————

Everyone knew you and theodore were academic rivals, both of you had always been racing to be at the top of your classes for years now. However, you always were a few points ahead of him, so you always managed to find a way to brag about it.

You’d always rub your higher marked grades in front of his face, you’d tease him about it in the corridor, lunchtime, anytime, all the time. One class however, potions, was one you faced difficulty with.

Snape wasn’t the biggest fan of your house, Ravenclaw, neither was he of you. He gave you a hard time in his class, while on the other hand theo had it the way he liked.

One time in potions class, Draco gave Neville a potion which caused the Gryffindor boy to throw up slugs all over the room. This little show earned a good chuckle from pretty much everyone, and seeing as Snape wasn’t really trying to do anything about it, you finally snapped. “What the hell is going on?” you shout. “Calm yourself, ms.” Snape answered. “No, no! Look what hes doing to him, do something about it!” “Alright, shush now. This is my class, my business to handle, my choices to make and take.” He said, more angrily now.

“This is bullshit!” You shout. “All right, detention ms!” Snape shouts angrily. Just then, theodore punches blaise in the face, making his nose bleed. Holding his face, blaise speaks “what the actual fuck was that for?”. Theo then goes for another punch and thats when snape stops him using his wand, “alright nott, detention for you too!” you could see the little smirk appearing on theo’s lips as snape spoke.

Later ~

The both of you had to spend your night cleaning the library for detention, wonderful. You got there and to your surprise, theo was already there before you. You ignore him and immediately get to work, you wanted to be done and out of here in no time.

As you’re putting some of the books back, he approaches you. “You’re not going to ignore me the whole night right?” to that you dont answer. “But really, Longbottom, out of all people?” He chuckles. “What are you trying to say, neville is my friend and everyone always finds a way to make fun of him so i will not allow that to happen in my presence.”

You leave the slytherin boy in shock and he turns back to keep working on his part. After a while, he speaks again “You know that this whole problem thing with snape will cause you to fail his class?” he speaks.

“I do.” You scoff. “That means i have a higher chance of getting ahead of you and being at the top of the grade this year.”he teases. “I dont even fucking care nott.” You speak as you keep your face to the front, putting the books back in place. “But that wont happen.” He adds. You turn to him confused, “huh?”. “That wont happen i said.” He speaks.” “And how come?” you ask. “Listen to me, we’ve been academic rivals for years, every single time i was so close to beating you, but i never did, do you ever wonder how?”

You don’t speak, as you cant quiet understand what he’s talking about. He then proceeds to continue “i did it on purpose, i knew how much it matters to you, i read your diary in our first year saying how you were so bad at everything you’ve tried and that studying was the only thing you were good at, thats why i’d write the wrong answers on purpose. Id also steal potter’s invisibility cloak to sneak into the classrooms and change your wrong answers.”

“There is no way,” you say hesitantly unsure what to say instead. “Yes, you need to believe me.” “What the fuck, are you flirting with me or tryna start a fight?” He tilts your chin to look up at him, “i never wanna fight with you, i just want you to be happy.”

Just then you lean in closer and connect your lips. He kisses you back, tongues colliding, his hands land on your hips and he pulls you in closer. He pins you to the bookshelf and starts leaving wet, hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. You moan at the feeling and grab his hair, to which he responds by biting the skin on your neck, slowly, then more aggressively. “Theo, i wanna thank you for what you did” you speak in between moans. “I wanna pleasure you please.” “You’ll only pleasure me by doing what i ask you to do, let me give you head until you forget your name, cara mia.”

Just then he lifts you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, he raises your skirt and lowers you panties. “God you’re already so fucking wet f’me bella.” He says as he begins trailing kisses around your pussy. You arch your back a bit, wanting him to eat you out already to which he chuckles before he begins teasing your folds with his tongue.

He licks your folds then keeps a hand on your thigh to make sure you don’t fall before he adds three fingers inside you all in one go. “HOLY FUCKKKK” you scream and squirm and squeeze around him, only burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue and fingers work in sync. You feel your climax building already, “im gonna cum, theo.” You moan as theo speeds his movements. “FUCKK, OH SHIT YEAH JUST LIKE THAT.”

You release and theo licks you clean. He then shows you some of your come on his fingers and he makes you lick them off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good,” he speaks, kissing you. You moan into his mouth then speak “let me give you head, please, i promise to swallow everything.” He breaks the kiss and smiles at you before beginning to remove his pants. You kneel between the boy, who’s now sat on a chair, and find the lace of his boxers.

You pull them down to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. You begin leaving trails of kisses along his v line. Then, you grab his cock and begin massaging it. He leans down to kiss you as you’re playing with him. You palm him and feel his dick twitch at your touch, then you take most of his length in one go. He moans loudly at the feeling as you lick around, sucking better than ever.

You allow your head to move up and down as you try to take more of his length, your nails digging into his thighs. He tugs at your hair, his fingers playing with your brown curls. The slytherin boy then pushes your head completely making his cock hit the back of your throat.

You gag loudly, the sound sending shivers down theos body. As a result, he throws his head back, moaning as you quicken your moves. “Ohhh, my god ‘hm, yeah, please.. mm.. hmh.. fuckkk just like that principessa.” The boy now a whining, whimpering mess. him moaning like that oml.

Without warning, he cums into your mouth. You look up at him between your lashes, your eyes filled with tears. He smiles down at you, watching you swallow everything. He then carries you and places you on his lap, “good girl, that was fucking awesome, tesoro (sweetheart).”

“I wanna make you cum one more time tonight, i know you have one left.” he speaks. “Only if you promise to come inside me.” You announce. He chuckles and nods as he begins removing your shirt. He removes it then proceeds to remove your bra.

Your boobs fly out, bouncing, also revealing your hard tits. He immediately lays his mouth on your breast, pleasuring your left boob, licking and sucking on it endlessly. He also used his other hand to pinch and play with your tit on the other side. This man, lord. He was only playing with your boobs and he was already gonna throw you over the edge again.

He then pleasured the other boob similarly, licking, sucking, and biting before he started leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to your neck. He then held your hips and slowly begin lowering you onto him, you were able to get most of him in the first time. Then, he gave you time to adjust before pushing more of himself in. You moan when you have his whole length in and then when you get used to his size, you begin riding him.

As you begin riding him slowly and carefully, he groans slightly at the feeling. Theo then places his fingers on your clit and starts rubbing hard which makes you feel yourself cum start to form. “Im gonna cum again teddy..” you announce. “Do it, f’me cara mia.” You speed your movements and so does he, you begin moaning at the speed of things to which he kisses you to stop the moans from being too loud.

Then, theo uses his hips to thrust deeper into your so that you’re practically bouncing on him. That is followed by him sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and licking it until you scream as you release onto him. As he’s helping you ride out your climax, you moan his name making him groan and cum inside of you.

The boy then grabs your face and kisses you hard, “i fucking loved that,” he speaks. “So did i” you smile back at him. Just then, you hear a sound coming from somewhere to which you both jump in fear and begin getting dressed. You manage to put your skirt and shirt on, but the slytherin boy only his pants before mr lupin appears.

His eyes widen in surprise at the site of the boy half naked, “a little hot mr nott?” “uhh.. yes sir” he says hesitantly. Remus then chuckles, “im gonna let it slide this time but please try to do it in a more private place and finish your duties too.” You both nod before moving back to your jobs.

[forsworned]

USE YOUR HEART ft. NEEDY!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Warning(s): Sexual Content, Grinding, AFAB!Reader, Mentions of Narcotics

Synopsis: Simon is high off of morphine and it reveals his true feelings for reader...

Author's note: Idk because @dmitriene told me to do it and i <3 her

"I don't wanna be alone."

His voice breaks as he reaches out to you. His usual stoic demeanor had completely diminished in your presence. For the first time, Simon was needy. You gaze down at his hand gently gripping your hand, "I need you." He says. Pleas even. Dark, stormy, and now conflicted eyes are peering up at you and he tugs you toward him. You didn't know how to react. Seeing Simon so injured and broken makes you feel some type of way. Somewhat wrong, but somehow...powerful?

"You need me?" You finally spoke up. His Adam's apple bobs up and down.

"Yes.” He croaks out.

The morphine that has been coursing in his system finally kicks in and you were experiencing the lowering inhibitions of Simon Riley, not Ghost.

The Simon Riley laying out on the infirmary bed before you at this moment was vulnerable, desperate, and reliant on your presence and aid--insistent even.

But naturally, you're hesitant. A situation like this is compromising and delicate. Given the nature of the circumstances and his stature, he is obviously still at an advantage, but it feels wrong to pounce at the opportunity. You don't want to feel like a predator skulking about as he studies you with reliant, onyx hues.

You look at the time on your watch.

12:38 AM

It was quite late, but the tugging of his hand over yours disrupts your train of thought.

"C'mere. I want you by my side." He susurrates and you're in a bit of a trance at the resonance of his soothing, sleepy tone. It's not its usual gruff and gravelly, but instead a lulling rasp that pulls you in.

"It's late, Lieutenant." You gently chide as you attempt to pry his fingers off your wrist, but he takes his free hand over your own and pulls you flush against him. Goddamn, he was strong. Even in his dazed and confused state, he is built like a fuckin' boulder.

But he's not listening to you as he fiddles with your fingers, tracing over the skin and where it creases and finely wrinkles. Over the nail bed, and the unfiled ridges, down to the chip that you earned from earlier when you reached for your gun in your holster too quickly. He's thumbing over the half-moon on your thumb and then the scar on the meat of your palm before he brings it to his masked lips as if to kiss it over the fabric.

A small, shuddering breath escapes you, and your eyes are glazing over before you swallow thickly. He cups your hand over his jaw and inhales sharply as he closes his eyes.

"Don't care." He replies, curling his bicep around your waist and secures you so have nowhere to go.

Your heart thuds at the contact and your cheeks are teeming with warmth. And suddenly it feels like the heat in there is turning to the max because you're sweating like a dog under his keen gaze and snug hold on you.

"Want you to stay." And it's as if he's speaking purely from the heart when he looks at you like that. You want nothing more but to crumble into his arms and cave into whatever feelings are lurking within you, but there's an urge to maintain your professionalism. And Simon senses that. He wants you to let go.

Why? He didn't know. Be it the drugs, the near-death experience, or the fact that you look utterly gorgeous under the strong moonlight or all of the above; he wants you with all his being.

His bandage-wrapped fingers loop around the bottom of his mask and he's lifting it up to expose just his lips as it scrunches up under his nose. Even if you have seen the sight a multitude of times over the years of knowing your Lieutenant, it is always as awestriking as it was the first time you saw it. His pretty rosy lips kiss at your wrist and you're stunned.

"Stay." He croaks out.

"And then what?"

You can't help yourself from asking such a silly question. You just need to feel needed by him because there is just something about the clinginess in his body language that pulls you in for more. If Simon is being honest right now, he's on cloud motherfucking nine. He's so high that everything feels like tunnel vision right now and you're the only damn thing he can focus on, not that he would want to focus on anything else.

So when he's telling you to stay, he damn well means it. But he also wants more. He's telling himself not to be too hasty, at least the logical part of him, though he is following his heart's desires. And his heart is conveying to him that he yearns for your closeness, for all your regard, and selfishly enough, your own heart.

At this point, all reasoning is being tossed out the window when he fixates on your trembling, shimmering eyes and your quivering glossed lips that are slightly chapped. But he's thinking to himself, one kiss. One kiss would fix that for you.

Simon is no longer struggling to sit up when he's tensing you closer to him feeling the sweat wetting the small of your back. His brows slightly raise and you feel your cheeks flush at his little observation, but he's not halting his motion to close the short distance between you two. He's bringing his hand over the nape of your neck, carding his scarred fingers through the tendrils of your hair and a soft sigh leaves your lips.

And the way you visibly relax draws out a small smile onto his lips as your foreheads collide. You don't even dare to open your eyes. You swallow thickly as you feel your breath become shallow and sharp. It fans against his lips and he's feels even more enticed to just kiss you.

"Dammit, [name]..." He finally breathes out. And you're eyes are on him and he can feel a thrill creep up his chine when he sees the flash of longing overcome your half lidded gaze.

And now you're yearning to bridge the distance, creeping closer to him, nudging your nose against his, and faintly brushing your lips over the stubble on his philtrum. You notice how his chest huffs out, stuttering as it leaves his lungs.

Long blonde lashes tickle at your own as your lips graze and you're heart is thumping out of your chest. You feel yourself holding back from your own hankerings but the moment that Simon brings his thumb to skim over your bottom lip, you feel the tension snap like a rubberband and you're crashing your lips against his. To hell with ethical conduct and decorum, you want nothing more than to satiate your thirst for him.

And with every kiss, you feel like your hunger is being appeased. The ferocity that grows in the depths of your groin is clawing out as you clamber on top of him and you're tuning out the noisy heartbeat monitor that's becoming rapid. And it cuts out, thanks to the swift movement of Simon pulling out the cord so he can nestle his hands under your shirt and slip his tongue between your open-mouth kisses.

He's losing himself in you and he doesn't care because the feeling of your nails digging into his abdomen is more than pleasant. As if the morphine wasn't dizzying enough, he was starting to feel like he was reaching some sort of seventh heaven. Especially when he hears the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he thumbs atop your hardened bud and gently tweaks it between his fingers.

The tent that's starting to feel like it's pitching between his legs is getting ground upon and he shudders at how fucking good it feels.

"Fuck." He murmurs as he lifts your shirt up to expose your breast to him and he's latching his lips to your sensitive nipple. It's a soft probing of his tongue against the erogenous zone and you're instantly arching your back and he grasps at your hips to abrade your clothed sex against him. And it feels so fucking good.

So, naturally, you're not stopping. And Simon can't help but become absorbed in your pleasure. Your milky moans are like music to his ears as he switches over to your other nipple. The friction builds in your lower belly as you get into a good rhythm and it becomes increasingly euphoric with every roll of your hips. And fuck, it's not even much but the way you are so touch-starved makes it all the better.

"Simon, I—hah—gonna—" You moan out, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his tongue swirls around your bud. He's already addicted to the way you're saying his name between your whimpers.

"Cum." He commands, as he clutches your hips to help achieve your oncoming orgasm. His sexy, raspy voice is enough to send you over the edge and a terrific gasp escapes you as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Your breath is gone and you feel like your voice melts into a deep, hot sweetness that soothes your electrifying nerves.

There is a brief pause of silence as you catch your breath and the embarrassment skulks in and you don't want to withdraw from him. You only focus on his heartbeat which slows and his breath that levels. Your throat tightens as you shift awkwardly and his hand on your hip feels a little limp. You take another moment to memorize how he smelled to help you calm your nerves.

The aroma of his natural musk enmeshed with the faint scent of cypress digs into your brain as you try your hardest to engrave his essence before it slips away. With one more breath of courage, you withdraw from him to face the music but it seems he's fast asleep. His thumb is still hooked into the belt loop of your jeans, and you can't help but giggle at him.

A small sigh leaves your lips as you calm down from your climax and your shaky fingers, lower his mask back down so it's stretching over his neck. Maybe if you slip away right now he'll think that it was just a nice little wet dream...

But you feel his hand cling to you as you try make your sweet escape.

"Thought I told ya to stay." He mumbles under his breath while he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you and making certain you're not leaving his side anytime soon.

There's a feeling of assurance that fluxes over your edginess and you can finally breathe again. Simon's body feels weightless as he lays in this infirmary bed with your toasty form atop his. It feels heavenly to have your figure pressed against him and he hums in contentment. He's replaying the sound of your moans and the way your body writhed under his touch. And you're starting to feel the rigidity of his dirty thoughts against the zipper of your jeans.

"You sure?" You murmur back, feeling the warmth sidle back into your cheeks.

His grin grows under his mask and you can feel it against your forehead. Sleep overtakes him, but he gives you one last squeeze.

"'m sure."

[bluelockmaniac]

— ୨ৎ "TEDDY TITTY BEAR"

★ ft. toji x fem!reader 彡 wc: 0.6k

▯ notes. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲. fluff. slightly suggestive ending !

“my cute titty bear is back!” you yell excitedly, rushing towards toji and throwing your arms around his large body as he enters through the front door of your apartment. a cheeky smile etched its way across your face— one that he was all too familiar with.

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he tries to pry you off him, amused. “your what?”

he's been through this before; it was not the first time you've appeared before him with nonsense leaving your pretty, impulsive mouth. yet, perhaps it was your peculiarities that he secretly found endearing.

“what do you mean, my what?” you ask, tipping your head to the side with innocent, wide eyes, peering up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. you repeat your words, that teasing grin of yours still stubbornly refusing to abandon your lips. “i said, you're my cute titty bear.”

“what the fuck is a titty bear?” he shakes his head in amusement as his hand absentmindedly moves behind his head to scratch his thick nape. “look, princess,” he continues, “i know this is one of y’weird outburst episodes, but seriously, you gotta stop—”

“nuh-uh, i’m not repeating this again,” you huff, feistily grabbing his huge hand and dragging him to the living room. 

this time, you were taking the lead and he was letting you. he was just slightly intrigued. what were you planning on getting yourself into now? there was no harm in entertaining your shenanigans just this once, he thought.

he follows you with a grin playing at his lips, then sprawls comfortably on the couch with his legs spread.

you smirk, quickly settling yourself warmly on his lap, legs straddling his waist as you assertively slam your palms against the backrest of the couch, one hand beside each of his shoulders, caging him in with your arms.

“oh?” he raises his brow, staring at your sly expression nonchalantly as one muscular arm encircles your waist, his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “don’t act so smug, princess. i still need an explanation, y’know?”

you hum softly, then, without warning, slide your hands up his chest, guiding them to either of his breasts and shamelessly squeezing them simultaneously.

“look.” squeeze. “at.” squeeze. “them!” squeeze. 

he flinches, inhaling sharply out of surprise as his mouth falls agape at your brazen stunt. sure, you’re undeniably crazy, and confident, but to boldly squish his chest with that mischievous grin dancing unashamedly on your lips? he had clearly underestimated you.

“girl,” his fingers gently gripping the soft flesh of your hips, his eyes wordlessly demanding answers. when you only giggle in response, he moves his hand to grip your chin, thumb dragging along your plump lips. “you’re insufferable.”

your eyes crinkle devilishly, “but you love me?”

“ya know it.” he grumbles, his voice soft as he holds your head and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to the corners of your lips.

“then can you take off your shirt pl—”

“no.”

“i need to see your—”

“no. perv.”

“but i wanna bite—”

he groans, his patience wearing thin, and without another word he silences you with a rough kiss on the lips, which predictably worked like a charm. “you’re crazier than me, y’know?”

you nod your head in response as pink creeps up your cheeks, “and you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?”

“i wouldn’t.” the two of you silently stare at each other for a few seconds. it was a comfortable silence— almost as if you both were falling in love for the first time again. almost.

“alright, enough,” he yawns loudly, interrupting the silence, the romantic atmosphere abruptly fading away. he stands up and throws you over his broad shoulder effortlessly, earning a squeaky gasp from you. “time to show this stuck-up princess what this titty bear can do, ‘kay?”

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

"h-hey, toji, calm your tits!"

"nah princess, you asked for this first."

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[colonoscopys]

ch. 18

buddie I 900 words I ao3

He’s drunk.

Not the blazing, head so spinny he could hurl if he stood straight, but in the hours after drunk that comes with a dry, heavy tongue and a slurred voice he still has some sort of control over.

Buck’s in the same boat, or—he thinks he must be, he doesn’t know, sitting criss-crossed next to him outside their hotel room door because they can’t, for the life of them, figure out how to put the key card into the door.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck slurs, looking at him with slow, wide-lidded blinks. “Where’s—where’s Chimney?”

He draws out Chimney. Chim-ney.

Eddie shrugs. He can’t make his mouth work for the life of him. He’s pretty sure he saw Chimney two hours ago—before the music started? Or at least when he started singing Maneater with one of the Drag Queens.

Buck knocks a shoulder into his as he slips down the wall, the smell of his hair briefly sifting into his nose. He smells like gin and lemons, and a little bit of that fancy curl product he tresses up his hair with before every fancy event.

I know his hair product, he thinks loosely, tilting his head against the wall as he takes Buck’s weight. I know his hair product, and the way he does his hair before work. I know it all because he helps my son do his hair just the same way. I know it all because my son wants to be like him, so I have learned him, for my son. I know it all because I have learned him. I know it all because I have learned him, for me.

I have learned him. I have earned him.

“Does—” And Fuck, maybe he’s drunker than he thought. “Does Tommy know your curl?”

Buck hums, non-committedly. He hasn’t heard a word Eddie said. He tries again.

“Does,” he spits out. Doooesss. “Tommy.” Ttttommyyyy. “Know.” Know.

Buck lifts his head up and ends up tipping too much to the other side. Eddie grabs him by the forearm, tight. The action feels familiar in ways that Eddie, for the life of him, can't understand.

Buck blinks at him, bright blue eyes stupid dilated. “Does Tommy know what?” He whispers. He draws out his name, too. Tom-my.

Eddie looks at him and loves him.

He’s always known he loves Buck. For the first time in his life, though, he thinks—I love you. What does that make me?

Eddie opens his mouth. The back of his throat burns—maybe from all the tequila shots or the lemons hitting the rim of his teeth or the raw pad of his tongue from licking salt off of Buck’s warm palm.

Does he know what you look like covered in blood, Eddie wants to ask. Does he know what it looks like when you haven’t showered in three days because you’re so depressed you don’t know if water burns more than the sun. Does he know what it looks like when you’ve got ugly red eyes because you’re so sad you don’t even know how to hold it. Does he know what it looks like to see you shining, like a savior, in the worst of the worst, in the worst of your days. Does he know what it’s like to lose you, really lose you, and see you swallowed up by white sheets and a lightning scar across your chest. Does he know what it’s like to be loved by you. Does he know.

He thinks—I love you. What does that make me?

Eddie tries to take a breath but it feels like there’s something crawling up his throat, so he tilts his head back up against the wall and tries to take a breath.

“He’s coming to the wedding,” Buck continues, as Eddie stares at him.

Eddie nods. “Good,” he says. Good. Buck. “Tommy.” Tommy. Tommy.

He looks at Buck and thinks of the answer.

It makes him a dead man, this love. It’ll kill him probably. It has to kill him. It has to be like a disease you can’t hear or smell or breathe, and you have to be alone in the hospital with your blood running in circles beneath your skin. It has to be like a disease that kills you before you take your next breath. It’s killing him.

I love you. What does that make me?

It makes a fucking idiot, is what it makes him, because god he’s always too fucking late, running into stupid relationships after relationships after being too fucking late in the beginning of it all. He is too late. He is too late and he is in love and he is burning up right from the inside.

I love you. What does that make me?

He heaves. He can’t breathe. Buck puts his head back down on his shoulder, and all of a sudden Eddie has to learn how to breathe, or otherwise he’ll disrupt Buck’s rest. He can’t disrupt Buck’s rest.

“Buck,” he starts, opening his mouth. Buck sighs, half-heartedly, and tilts back. He looks at Eddie. Eddie opens his mouth.

“I love you,” he says. Nothing comes out. “What does that make me?”

Buck looks at him, confused. He blinks, like he's thinking it through.

“Eddie.” He draws out his name, slow. Eddie.

[elllisaaa]

imagine sub jungwon tied up and the reader playing with his body, riding him till he comes again n again. his body writhing and jerking off uncontrollably due to the excessive overstimulation, tears spilling from his eyes as he cries at the intense rush of pleasure. mewling tiredly when u force the last orgasm from his body...

(u can ignore this if ur not comfy)

SUB!JUNGWON who knows that whenever he comes home tired and stressed as hell, he can count on you to treat him well and take care of him so that he can let out all the pressure.

you often start by massaging his spent body, asking him to tell you about his day and let out his frustration with words first. then, you carefully kiss every exposed part of his skin, and each time your lips are touching him, a satisfied sigh escapes him. you praise him for doing so good, and you even let him touch your body too before you tie him up to the bed because it's the only way for jungwon to completely let go.

and then, the real fun starts. your favourite way to get jungwon in the mood is to make out with him first. that always gets him rock hard and by the time you separate and you start stroking his dick in your hand, he's already so turned on that he comes very quickly. "'m sorry, just feels too good." but you just smile at him, kissing his cheek when you take his cock in your hand again. "don't worry baby, you know i'm just starting right ?"

you always make him cum one or two times with your hand or mouth, and let the sticky substance gather on his abdomen. when you have enough of playing with him like that, you dip your finger in the little pool of cum and bring them to his lips. and jungwon always obeys like a good boy by licking them clean. "you're doing so good for me baby, i think you earned my pussy, don't you ?" - "yes, please ! i need you…"

when you sink down on his already swollen member, his hips jerk up on their own, forcing you to pin them to the mattress so you can have your fun. jungwon is always extra sensitive when you ride him, because the sinful sight of your pretty body milking him dry is too tempting to resist the intense pleasure running in his veins. "please, please… i-i can't take it anymore…" but you still bounce on his cock, relishing in his loud whines and whimpers, in the way his fists are clenched around the ropes tying him up, in the way tears are spilling out from his eyes. "i know you can won, you want to be my good boy right ? so you can give me a last one, yeah ?" he nods his head as best as he can, his mind so far away he feels like he could pass out.

the last orgasm you pull out of him is always the most intense, making him cry out and sob uncontrollably due to the overstimulation, but it's always this last rush that makes him feel completely satisfied. "you did so good for me baby, i love you so much." - "love you too y/n, you're the best."

the aftercare after you untie his hand is the sweetest thing ever, and that's also the part that both of you prefer.

[russellsppttemplates]

Could you do a Lando blurb where Lando shows Tilly and Fraser for the first time The Lando & Oscar Show (which is that Lego animation with McLaren) and they really enjoyed

Cw: reader is pregnant

"What do you guys want to watch?", Lando said as he helped you sit on the sofa, kissing your baby bump after he grabbed the remote and sat next to you.

"I'll probably fall asleep soon - little miss Charlotte is sucking all of my energy today", you mumbled as you arranged the blanket over your legs.

"Actually, I think I have an idea", Lando suggested, opening the YouTube app and finding the LEGO channel, "me and uncle Oscar did this a few years ago", he said before he pressed play.

"Look! Is that you, mummy?", Fraser asked as he cuddled you, making you stir awake, "sorry, mummy".

"It's alright, my love", you looked at the screen and saw LEGO woman with her hair up in a pony tail, "but no, mummy didn't make it on the show", you smiled sleepily.

"Oh no, daddy! You're flying away!", Matilda giggled, "it's like when I go to school and the wind flips my umbrella!".

"Yes, it's a bit like that, princess! Another one?", he asked, earning cheers from both kids.

"Uncle Oscar talks funny", Matilda pointed out as the word 'shark' was said.

"Look! It's the car from the picture on mummy's desk!", Fraser noticed, "the one where she has a pretty dress and you're in the car, daddy! Mummy - oh", he covered his mouth with his hand, "mummy fell asleep this time", he whispered.

"It is that car, Fraser, well spotted", Lando said as he pulled you closer to him, "mummy missed the best episode actually, proves that I'm very smart", Lando joked.

"She knows you're smart, daddy - she's always saying that you know all about things!", Matilda comforted.

"I'm not sure what mummy means by that is good, but thank you nonetheless", Lando chuckled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[lovedianagrey]

hello!!do you have skk fic recs?

Introduction

Yes, I do. I’m sorry it took so long to give you a reply, but I wanted to give you a comprehensive list and was busy preparing for my last day in high school, and then I got a job 12 hours later, and then I traveled to New York for a couple Broadway workshops. But now that today’s been dealt with, I have my wonderful notes.

So here’s the gist of it. I have three focused reviews on some of my favorite Soukoku fanfics ever, but I felt like copy pasting it would kill you a little, so I’m going to use a simplified format that echoes what I once did for two other ships years ago.

Canon Space

Here I compiled four fanfics that take place in main canon spaces (so not BEAST). While I encourage you to read, I also ask you to make sure to check the tags of the actual work for any possible triggers. Furthermore, the styles these characters are written in, and the way they are portrayed, vary from writer to writer. Some are more “canon” based than others, but they all carry the essence of this ship. And if they don’t in your eyes, then you’re just reading a great novel with Japanese names. 

i'll bleed out for you by StarshipDancer

Synopsis: After getting impaled together, basically dying in each others arms in a joint mission with the Port Mafia and the ADA, and getting brought back by Yosano, this shattered Soukoku is asked to go into hiding. In this time, things seem to start healing. But the impending call asking them to return to their positions in their groups haunts them, and when it arrives, things fall apart all over again.  

Tags: Caretaking, PTSD, A Singularly Important Rat Is Present, Canon-Divergence, Post-Port Mafia Days, Love Confession, Pet Co-Parenting, Angst

Word Count: 71,848

Notes: Rattata is the best character. You cannot negate AbsoluteNegation’s incredible skill. I remember reading this fanfic between the airport and my flight, and when chapter four ended, I had to board the plane, with my shaking hands and quiet sniffles. Please read this one.

If you kiss me (I might let it happen) by encsiimomo

Synopsis: Chuuya’s done watching this. Dazai’s literally dating a new girl every week. He dates based on who asks him first that Monday, he breaks up with them that Sunday, and it goes on again. And again. And again. It’s driving him insane. So he does the only thing he can think of to earn himself a break – He asks to date him for that week’s cycle. Dazai’s surprised. Chuuya’s exhausted. But once the sparks fly, they’re unable to be put out. 

Tags: Canon Divergent & Kind of Canon Compliant, Dark Era, Smut, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Silly

Word Count: 52,127

Notes: I loved this fic because it encapsulates a pretty carefree tone that isn’t associated with Dark Era. It’s pretty smutty, but it’s really lovely to read them. It’s not a reflection of what these characters canonically represent. And while it definitely stays as a loose interpretation of these characters, it keeps the essence that makes this ship so sharp and wonderful. I loved Oda’s appearances too, they made me laugh.

A Doll's House by Abyss_In_WonderLand_likes_sexy_cannibals

Summary: After coming to contact with an ability-powered artifact, Dazai and Chuuya are forced to work together to overcome the ability’s trials, and face the bubbling sentiments they keep trying so hard to ignore. 

Tags: Teamwork, Ability Loss, Poisoning, Denial of Feelings, Confessions, Light Angst

Word Count: 45,288

Notes: While definitely not a character study, this fic goes and shows how wonderfully warm a Double Black fanfic can be. You’ll giggle in some moments, be entranced in others, and it’s just fun. This is for those that aren’t scouring for the angst. This was the first fic that sunk me into a skk fanfiction hunt all throughout the winter holidays.

On Deathless Feet by AbsoluteNegation

Synopsis: Chuuya always knows the monster can get out of control, but it doesn’t get any less surprising when Arahabaki powers through him. For a while though, it’d been comforting to know Dazai could always reign it in, make it go quiet. Because he did when they recently met, when they rose through the ranks, and at the brink of their end. But after years of disconnection, and the consistent waves of betrayal, is Chuuya capable of trusting him? And is Dazai capable of letting him?

Tags: Caretaking, Controlling Arahabaki, Port Mafia, Post-Port Mafia, Mistrust, Non-Linear Storytelling

Word Count: 71,848

Notes: This story is just breathtaking. The writing style is incredibly vast and detailed, which may seem scary when described, but it flows so easily when you read it. The story takes place in an event where Chuuya loses control of Arahabaki in a  Post-Port Mafia Soukoku time. But because of its non-linear style, one gets to understand their past experiences with each other in a manner that contextualizes and weighs in the events of their reunion. 

Fanon Spaces

Before I begin, I’d like to note that there are so many AUs in this fandom, that I had to really search for the canon ones in my list. So understand that if you want more of these, I DEFINITELY have more of these. Also, again, while I encourage you to read, I also ask you to make sure to check the tags of the actual work for any possible triggers. 

I’ll crown your inner child with laurel by acuteguwu

Synopsis: Chuuya has worked in a Michelin Star restaurant. So he really has no place in losing this cooking competition. But a sudden newcomer, who seemingly has no previous experience in the field, seems to want to tell him his bechamel sauce isn’t ready. And really, who does he think he is?

Tags: Chef Competition AU, Character Study, Slow Burn, Chuuya Is A Blunt Perfectionist, Dazai Is A Culinary Genius

Words: 197,090

Notes: I read this in two days, and I finished by waking up at four in the morning to finish up before going to a drag queen brunch. So really, my experience was incredible. You get to really know these characters, who are very themselves, and it’s lovely. Please read, it’s so worth it.

music for our funeral by itotypes

Synopsis: Dazai has always been lost on what exactly he wants to be. Chuuya knows exactly what he wants. Working with such incredible differences proves to be a difficult challenge, ending in at least a little bit of violence multiple times, but they make it work. Because their music sounds beautiful. Because they’re better geniuses beside the other. And maybe because once it started, they can’t seem to process this journey can ever end.

Tags: No Smut, Angst, 70s, Musicians!AU, Drug Abuse, References to Child Neglect, Lowkey Pretty Violent, Emotional Cheating (w/ Main Ship)

Word Count: 67,723

Notes: Look, there’s a whole genre of Soukoku music AUs. And I could tell you to read the famous “still, still, still” by icedlightroast, or the even more famous “I Was Screaming Your Name Through The Radio” by ElectricSplatter. Which really, they’re both INCREDIBLE fics that I think you should read (IWSYNTTR literally inspired me to try and write music, which led me to do an album for a school project, so I’m not kidding when I say they’re life changing), but I also know that these are famous fanfics that you can find in almost any big skk reader thread. So disregarding the following recommendation, I try to give you fanfics I found through a long scrolling process. 

Everything or Nothing by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Synopsis: Chuuya has never been able to experience much. So when he meets Dazai on the night of orientation, he lets himself explore. And as lips sink into his, and he lets himself be free, Dazai lets him know how unimportant he is by walking away when kids walk in on them. Cut to a month later, they’re paired as roommates, Chuuya’s gotten what Dazai insists is a douchey boyfriend, and Dazai Osamu has to recognize it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a night’s fluke. He really, definitely isn’t straight.

Tags: College AU, Pinning, Chronic Illness, Creation & References Of Illegal Panini Rings,  Confessions, Miscommunication, Past Sexual Abuse, Bad Parenting, Cute Dates, Dazai’s Really Rich

Word Count: 264,937

Notes: I recognize I just put in my notes that there’s no major point in recommending these big fanfics, but I just read this because the person that introduced me into the fandom in the first place really loves this one. And it’s incredible. Worth every moment. I laughed a lot, and cried a lot. It’s those pieces of work that resound with you that keep you engaged. This one builds off of that.

Inseparable by milwritescausewhynot

Synopsis: Dazai and Chuuya have been joined to the hip since day one. But they’re not best friends. Or enemies. Or, worst of all, lovers. They are, however, great at pranking each other. Until one goes close to dangerous, and things begin getting complicated afterwards. 

Tags: High School AU, Pranks, Light Angst, Denial, Pining, Confessions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Crazy Kouyou, Childhood Friends, No Smut

Word Count: 107,804

Notes: I hadn’t saved this one in my compilation, but I couldn’t not find it. This fic is so charming, and I most enjoy how the characters move through the story. Definitely recommend.

In Conclusion

Again, I’m sorry for such a late response. I’m literally falling asleep right now but I felt too guilty leaving this for tomorrow morning. If you have any questions, notes, or looking for something specific for your reading, we cna talk about it. 

Anyways, thanks for asking! Hope you love them, and sorry for any mistakes

[green-eyedfirework]

Slade heard the shouting first.  Not many people ventured here, Slade had managed to secure himself a prime position in exchange for being one of the Arena’s best gladiators.  A cell that was more of an apartment, most all the luxuries he wanted, food and pretty slaves and good fights.  He’d killed the last master who’d ordered him to lose a match, and his new one had learnt that lesson well.

There was little more that he needed from life.  Talia knew that a content gladiator was a loyal one, and unlike her father, she’d cultivated that loyalty well.

“Please—Talia—stop—” a younger voice on the edge of desperation, and at least three sets of footsteps.  Slade straightened off the bench and moved towards the front of his cell.

“You know better than that, Richard,” Talia’s voice was coldly amused, “You lost a fight to one of mine, and the Arena voted life.  That means I own you now.”

“Bruce will buy me back!” the voice insisted stridently, “Talia, please—”

“I find myself not exceedingly fond of my beloved at this moment,” Talia said dismissively, “And you will serve far better as a gift.”

“No—”

The footsteps reached the front of his cell, the curtains drawn back to leave only open bars, and Slade watched as his owner stepped into view, poised and calculating as always.  “Slade,” Talia smiled, eyes dark and satisfied, “How are you today?”

“Well,” Slade replied noncommittedly, far more interested in the struggling figure pinned by two guards, “I didn’t realize I’d earned a gift.”

“This particular one fell into my lap,” Talia’s smile grew wickeder, “And I have no need for a gladiator that loses fights, so I might as well use him as a favor.”  That was when the struggling figure jabbed an elbow into the stomach of the guard to his left and made a break for it.

Unfortunately for him, the guard recovered quickly, and made a sharp swing of his staff at the bandages that wound down one leg.  The unfortunate gladiator crumpled with a strangled shriek.

“Come now, Richard,” Talia said, her expression twisted with distaste, “At least try to lose gracefully.”  The guards yanked the limp figure off the ground and dragged him closer to the bars, and the spark of interest at the familiar name coalesced into sharp coldness at the sight of tan skin and dark hair.  Locks of it draped across that bowed face, as though Slade wouldn’t be able to recognize the man that had killed his son.

Talia read the simmering fury across his face.  “He’s yours,” she said softly, watching him, “To do with what you wish, for however long you wish to keep him.  His fate is yours.”

Richard Grayson made a barely perceptible sound.

Talia moved forward to unlock the cell and waited as the guards dragged Grayson closer before snagging the young gladiator’s chin.  “Your master needs a reminder on what happens when he spites me,” she murmured, “Your body will do quite nicely.”

Slade couldn’t see what Grayson did or said, but he saw Talia’s fingers tighten, nails biting into skin, before she let go and stepped aside to let the guards throw Grayson inside the cell.

Slade didn’t move.  Not as the guards retreated and Grayson pushed himself up to standing.  Not when Grayson pressed himself back against the bars, fingers tightened into fists as the click of the lock echoed in finality.  Not as footsteps receded, out of sight and out of hearing, as the beaten gladiator cowered in the corner.

Grayson looked gray.  His expression was fractured and his clothes were dusty and torn and he had one arm pressed to his chest in a way that indicated either an injured arm or broken ribs.  Possibly both.  The other arm was tensed, ready to lash out, despite him wavering on his feet.  One leg had bandages from calf to thigh.

More than all that, he looked small.  Exhausted and trembling and gaunt, like someone recovering from an illness, nothing like the snatches of the golden favorite of the Arena that Slade caught from time to time.  Not too many, no one was stupid enough to let Slade and Grayson in the same room, and especially not the kid’s previous master, but Slade remembered watching his son bleed out on the Arena sands as a sweaty, bloodstained, gleaming young gladiator lifted his dual swords to a wave of cheers that shook the entire stadium.

It wasn’t something he could forget.

“Who knew that the little bird would fall,” Slade said, low and cold, stalking out of the shadows.  Grayson pressed further into the corner but there was nowhere to go, blue eyes flitting around the cell like something would save him.  “You must’ve heard the story of the boy who flew too close to the sun.”

“Slade,” the kid’s voice was passably level, eyes wide and locked on him, “I—I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” Slade arched an eyebrow, “Sorry that you killed my son?  Sorry that you built a career that started by defeating the Ravager?  I didn’t see regret when you stood over my son’s cooling corpse, I saw triumph.”  Grayson swallowed, expression fracturing further.  “You’re only sorry that you’re locked in here with me.”

“Slade—”

He didn’t give Grayson a chance to spout off pretty words—apparently he had a talent for being charming, a talent for making friends.  There were a group of them, young, puffed-up gladiators, that fought on the sands like it was their own.  Excellent, trained fighters.  And cocky and arrogant to boot.

Slade had always hoped for the chance to meet Grayson on the sand.  To have the fight he’d been itching for for years.

This was almost as good.

Grayson ducked at Slade’s telegraphed punch, pushing off the bars and twisting past Slade to stumble deeper in the cell.  Slade turned to follow him, noting his unsteadiness and adjusting his speed accordingly.

The fun was in playing with his food before he destroyed it.

Grayson was talented.  With dual short swords in his hands, and preternatural flexibility, he had gone undefeated for years.  He was masterful at twisting out of the way of strikes, all speed and deadly grace, and even with an injured leg he kept his balance well.

But he was unarmed, his right arm was clearly paining him, and he’d looked ready to drop even before the fight had started.  Even drawing it out, it wasn’t long before Slade grabbed his wrist from a poorly executed punch, and wrenched.

The kid went down with a choked gasp, clutching his shoulder as he landed hard on his knees.  Slade gave him three seconds before slamming a kick into his side—the kid made a harsh, punched-out sound and toppled over.

“Pathetic,” Slade noted, standing over the panting young gladiator, “The golden Nightwing, lying broken in the dust.  A fitting legacy of a boy that tried to fly too high, too fast.”

Grayson set his expression into a snarl and tried to lever up.  Slade ground a foot into the bandaged leg and Grayson collapsed with a strangled sound, trying to claw away.

“If only Grant could see you now,” Slade murmured, “He had a talent for humiliating his opponents.”  What his son could’ve done with a broken bird at his feet—but Grant had been cocky, and Grayson had been smart, and Slade had to watch from the stands as his son gurgled out his last breaths.

Grayson stared up at him with a facade of defiance, half-curled up on the ground.  “Spare me the monologue and just kill me already,” the kid snapped, his snarl unable to hide the waver in his tone, “There isn’t an audience to entertain here.”

Cute.  Slade would take great pleasure in watching that break.

“No, there isn’t,” Slade agreed, and reached down to haul Grayson to his feet and shove him back into the center of the room.  “There’s no one to entertain here.”  He smiled, slow and sharp.  “Just me and you.”

The mask of defiance cracked, and for a moment, the only thing in Grayson’s eyes was terror.

[suncaptor]

Mark Sloan is SO funny. He loves Derek so much. He's the best man at his wedding. his life is intertwined with Derek's for decades. He sleeps with Derek's wife. Then Derek moves across the country to get away from him because of that. Mark moves across the country too (these men have established careers as surgeons) with the explicit intent of trying to get Derek back. flirts with the new person Derek has feelings for and implies that's not new, their similar taste. when things don't work out with Derek and that girl but Derek gets a new girlfriend he tells Derek he's upset because he thought after the girls it'd just be him and Derek. After breaking up Derek's first marriage. Then he ends up falling for the younger sister of Derek's new wife. also both Derek and Mark's other best friend call him good boy at least one point, the latter during sex, and Mark craves Derek's compliments. which is an important tidbit for me.

[july-19th-club]

honestly the first hunger games movie was really quite good and even the later ones were not THAT awful bad. just watched the scene where she drops the wasps on the careers and i do think it takes some doing to make a nearly two-minute sequence of somebody sawing at a tree branch deadly nerve-wracking

[doomednarrative]

The thing is that Light Yagami is actually one of my favorite characters of all time, I just don't say it a lot cause I don't want people getting the wrong idea that I agree with him or think he's in the right. He's not, and he sucks, but he does have a depth in the same vein as L that fascinates me, and tbh if I hadn't watched DN for the first time when I was 12 maybe I'd feel different but like. He definitely influenced my taste in characters iirevocably going forward.

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

[ridingthatd]

₊˚₊‧⁺˖ ITADORI AND HIS OLDER BROTHER

₊˚₊‧⁺˖ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, fucking him and his brother, choso is fucked up, stalking

itadori was such a puppy coded type of boyfriend, he was such a sweetheart, he was the type of boyfriend who would pick you up playfully and spin you around just to earn a giggle from you in return, he's the type to insist to take a shower with you, he had a rule that both of you should always bath together- whenever you plan to shower, yuji is already taking his shirt off, revealing his chest covered tattoos, getting ready to join you. he's the type to cuddle you all day whenever you had period cramps-

but he was also the type to fuck you through it, insisting that filling you with his warm cum would make you feel better, insisting that him sucking on your sore boobs would relief the pain, insisting that him licking your blood-soak pussy would make you both feel good- he wasn't lying, a thing that always set you off that yuji acted differently in sex, whenever he would fuck you, it wasn't a sweet love making type, it was the type that would almost make you pass out from being to stuffed with his monster of a cock, that would have you drooling, crossed eyed, out of your mind, that would leave bruises-marks on your body the next morning.

itadori was the type to love you with all his heart, to do anything for the people he loves, the people he care about, and the only people he cared about was you-

and his older brother choso, he looked nothing like your boyfriend- while your boyfriend held such a nice, approachable era around him, his brother was quite the opposite.

his whole era screamed not approachable, a cold glare was always painted on his face, he had a long dark hair that he would usually throw in a bun, he was tall a bit taller than yuji was, and of course he had tattoos, their gang tattoos- yea your boyfriend was in a gang, to be honest you already knew quite awhile before yuji decided to tell you, it was because your boyfriend always had difficulties in lying he made it so obvious that you weren't surprised once he told you.

both of them had the same exact tattoos, but choso had one tattoo itadori didn't have- it was the tattoo on his face, a straight line painted on his nose.

choso have always wanted you- more like him and his little brother have always wanted you. they been stalking you for a year, ever since they saw you in the club where they had a gang meeting, you wouldn't leave their mind, so they stalked you, they both were fucked up in head, loving the feeling of watching you, your every step, everything you do without you knowing, loving the feeling of watching you moan, and whine in the shower as you use your little fingers to get off.

choso insisted that his little brother should get with you first, claim you first, before anyone else gets to do that before them- he knows he wouldn't let that happen, he would shred whoever dare to lay as much as a finger on you expect him and itadori.

choso sit on the guests bed, he was in the apartment of his little brother, staying in for a little, he always do his causal visits. loving the way you try so hard to hide your attraction to him, staring at him with your fuck me eyes, so tempting.

what would it feel like? to have your warm, wet pussy clutch around him, have the tip of his dick catch at the tight entrance and not let him go, demanding him right back in until he’s sheathed balls deep, his throbbing shaft engulfed and secure and feeling so good. and the day has finally come-

tears and hick ups falls from your lips, as your boyfriends brother, tease you, not letting you cum for the 3rd time. drool leaves your lips connecting your tongue to itadoris tongue as he pulls back, after he spat inside of your mouth, that was half opened the whole time not being able to stop your whines.

"aw look at her, such a pretty little baby, you wanna cum on my brothers tongue? you wanna squirt on his face?" yuji darkly speak out, as he harhsly twist your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling it.

you glance down between your thighs to see choso already hungrily staring at you, groaning and slurping on your pussy as if he's feasting on his prey, his huge thick fingers roughly going in-out of your cunt making loud wet noises.

"cum" this is all choso needed to say before you arch your back, your thighs shake, and clear liquid comes out squirting, gushing his whole face with it, choso opens his mouth and let it land directly in his mouth as if he's drinking from a fountain of a goddess. yuji couldn't help but groan at the sight, mouth watering wanting to taste your juice too.

as you limblessly lay down, not having the energy to move a muscle after all the teasing, your boyfriend pick you up and make you lay down on his chest, as he coo at you, showering your face with kisses- you were about to relax into his embrace but you feel his huge cock, rub on your pussy and make it's way inside of you- you whimper.

"shhh it's okay, it's okay leme keep my cock warm and good inside of your pretty little pussy yea?" itadori whispers next your ear, sucking on the tender spot on your neck, you feel chosos huge hands grab your ass and roughly lift you and slam you down his brothers cock, you gasp- he didn't leave any room for you to breath as he keep repeating the process, shoving you up-down, as he lean in, his chest on your back.

"you like that? is my little brothers cock filling you good?" he whispers next to your right ear, trailing his nose down your neck, as yuji suck on your bouncing nipples- clearly to lost in your pussy to keep on what his brother is doing.

you stiffen once you feel a cold metal on your asshole, not quite sure what it is, you don't realize what it is till you feel the warm, twitching cock of choso- it was a piercing, choso had a piercing on his cock. he slowly spread your cheeks, and circle your hole with his cock, before he gently start making his way in, tearing through your ass.

"fuck she got even more tighter fuck fuck fuck" you glance down at your boyfriend he was rocking his hips up your pussy, fucked out his mind, this sight of him was such a turn on that you lean down to suck on his lips, while making clear access for choso to shove his entire cock in.

you choke not being able to breath, " to- to much to much to much" you cry out crawling your nails on yuji chest trying to escape his brothers cock that teared into your ass. choso laughs darkly- it was the first time you heared him laughing before he grabs your hips and shoved you towards him.

"you can't run little pet, now you're finally mine i won't ever let you go" he roughly grabs your hair and slams into you, ignoring your cry out, itadori grabs your chin, leading your lips to his, as he keeps humping up your pussy.

you were so filled that you think both of their cocks might come out your nose, your mind was fuggy to much pleasure on your body, all you could think about was their massive cocks, thoughts only circling around dick, dick, dick, dick.

"we going to cum inside of both of yours holes baby, fill you in so so so so good" itadori whine, as he spills his warm white liquid inside of you- you can feel his thighs shaking, eyes crossed so fucked out. just like you were.

"now it's my turn" choso groans out before he fills your tight ass, not stopping till every single drop was inside of you. you soon follow him squirting on yujis cock helpsly being sandwiched by both of them.

"round 2?" itadori grins.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

[soap-ify]

simon loves it when you aren't wearing any panties under your loose pajama shorts.

cw — mild degradation, p in v.

it was done very much intentionally at first. you just wanted to see if he’d even notice you not wearing anything under your shorts. just a little fun idea, right?

unbeknownst to you, simon had already noticed it the very minute you walked into the bedroom. he just pretended to be oblivious, enjoying your subtle yet desperate attempts to rile him up a little too much — the way you tried to spread your legs a little too much.

you were seated cross-legged in front of him on the bed, playing on your phone while his hand was lazily caressing your head, eyes fixated on the way your loose shorts were pushed a bit aside, the gap between the cloth and your thighs clearly showing a glimpse of your cunt, the subtle glisten from the light making his lips twitch up slightly. you were fucking wet.

“pretty cunt’s staring at me, love.” he said in the most nonchalant way possible, causing your attention to snap away from your phone and fall onto him, his words causing you to squeak in embarrassment. the sudden wave of shyness made you nibble on your bottom lip in confusion, since it was you who had come up with this idea in the first place.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about…” you mumbled under your breath, pretending to be dumb. maybe a bit too dumb.

“not wearin’ any panties today, eh? dirty fucking girl.” he scoffed playfully and leaned forward, his large rough hands gripping onto the soft plush of your thighs a bit tight, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.

“wanted to get your attention…”

“you always have my attention.” he mumbled more gently this time, his gruff voice causing your stomach to be flooded with butterflies while his lips pressed soft pecks on your cheek, earning bubbly giggles from you.

his callused fingers pushed your loose shorts to the side with ease, not bothering to take them off while having enough room to look at your cunt, raising his brows at the slick that was coating you.

“what got you so riled up?”

“you…” your hips twitched instinctively once you felt his fingertips grazing up and down your cunt, gathering up all the wetness before messily smearing it on your puffy folds and clit.

you could feel it getting sticky in between your legs, cheeks and ears all heated up while your chest gently rose and fell.

“you’re such a dirty little thing. s’only fair for me to make you messier, right?” he asked, earning an embarrassingly quick nod from you.

simon was quick to push you on your back, his hands gripping your legs and pushing them apart, your body shuddering once you felt the cool air caressing your sweet pussy, one hand of his reaching to tug down his sweatpants alongside his briefs, his girthy cock springing free from the clothes, already hardening up.

“look at what you do to me. flauntin’ your pussy ‘round like that. just a needy little thing.” he huffed, his breathy voice doing nothing to hide the desperation laced in his actions.

“si… i—” your words were cut short by the swollen tip of his cock rubbing against the clit gently, as if giving it pretty kisses, the soft fabric of your pushed aside shorts gently rubbing against his length, eliciting a soft moan from your lips while your hips bucked forward, seeking more friction.

“hush. gonna give you what you were looking for so badly.” a sweet grin twitched on his lips, his cock slowly pushing into your tight cunt, your walls instantly clinging onto his length and sucking him in, causing a grunt to leave his lips.

“fuck— patience, love.” his hands gently eased your legs up his shoulders, pulling you into him before he delivered a light, gentle slap on your twitchy hard clit, earning a whine from you.

“si!” your eyes started getting glossy with pleasure, feeling his cock tenderly rubbing against your spongy spots inside while he thrusted in and out of your cunt at a gentle pace, your legs trembling on his shoulders, trying not to get a cramp, your fingers clinging onto the fabric of his shirt tight.

“so pretty f’me…” he groaned in between his thrusts, his hands moving to lovingly caressing your thighs, kneading the plush, your mind fuzzy with pleasure while those familiar tight knots began forming in your stomach, indicating your impending orgasm.

the night resulted in your cunt messily dripping with his thick cum, your poor shorts being completely ruined, alongside the sheets. he better clean it all up.

[snowsinterlude]

🍒 - fitting room.

summary: your soon to be husband always did his best to keep you happy and pretty for him, once a month he would always take you out to keep you in fashion, even if that was just an excuse to fuck you in a fitting room.

c.w: nsfw, smut, p in v, blowjob (m. recieving), dirty talk, public sex, fitting room sex, almost caught, cum denial, mentions to tit slapping and clit slapping, creampie, breeding, dom snow, sub reader, president snow x soon to be wife reader, sex in public places

being wed to the president of panem had some strange types of luxury that comes with it.

one of them being your wardrobe, full to the brim with clothes he brought to you, he had to build you an entire closet to fit in all the things he got you. jewelry, dresses, everything that he wanted you to wear for him, too. lingerie being the thing he always told you to buy.

so today, once again, you were on another luxury store with him, buying clothes and asking for his opinion on certain clothes, knowing he was glad to help you.

"m'love-" you called him, shyly. he gave the assistant of the store a look that was enough to send her away, and when he entered, he could see your panties on your hands while you wore one of the store's new dress. you were olaying with the fabric of your panties like a timid whore, hands occupied with it.

"what..." he chuckled, not even needing to ask anything when you fluttered your eyes at him, his dick starting to stiff up when you swayed your hips to his direction, arms hugging his waist shyly.

"it's just, you know.. you have been such a good husband to me and our wedding didn't even occur, i thought we could, you know, uh... advance the honeymoon."

ah, it wasn't the first time you guys fucked, but those words were enough for him to kiss you all of a sudden, pinning you on the wall while putting your panties on his pockets.

you did your best to make him happy too, always satisfying him and his dick, pumping him while on your knees, tears welling on your eyes as you licked his tip, kissing it open mouthed.

"don't let any drop fall on the dress, okay?" he growled, and you nodded obediently, the action making your head bob on his cock, earning a chuckle out of his lips.

you pulled away a bit, breathing heavily before giving his balls a small kiss. he slapped your face lightly, putting his entire being into not hurting your pretty face and thanking heavens for you being a whore who liked such dirty things.

"coryo, i.. hn, i want you to cum inside of me." you said, breathless after drooling on his cock, getting it purposefully wet for it to enter your gushing ignored cunt.

"god, you're such a bitch." he chuckled, pulling you to stand up, your legs shaking from being on your knees for longer than you actually remembered being.

with your thigh being held by his hand to spread your legs apart, your hands were holding onto anything in that fitting room that could help you not to fall. your moans were muffled by your own panties, that he had stuffed in his pocket before calling you a whore for making him have to muffle your lewd sounds with your own panties.

"i can't believe you are such a perverted whore, drooling on your own panties while i fuck you senseless." he whispered on your ear, kissing your neck while his skin slapped against yours. "maybe i should fuck some sense into you, don't you think so, bunny?"

his question was ironic, but you still nodded pathetically, a despair he had never seen before on anyone's eyes, your tears probably being the main thing that made him think of that.

then, there was a sudden knock on the fitting room door, which made you panic, but not him, his thrusts could have gotten a bit slower, but your pussy was still gushing around him, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you moaned against your panties.

"miss snow?" the assistant asked, ear on the door as she tried to hear what was happening inside the fitting room. "miss snow, is everything alright?"

her voice seemed a bit worried, and coriolanus kisses on your neck made you even weaker, his mouth nibbling on your ear.

"be a good girl and answer her. and don't you dare make those slutty sounds of yours." he whipered, taking the panties out of your mouth, you let out a soft sob and breathed in heavily before answering.

"y..yes, it is." you blurted out. "is there.. is there anything 'rong?" you fucked yourself back on his dick while saying those things, his hands grabbing your ass with desire, lust and gluttony, marking his hand prints on your ass.

"no. i just needed to know if your husband was there. it is not allowed to have two people in the same fitting room in the store, i need to follow the rules." she said, and your pussy gripped tightly on his cock, his finger masturbating your clit non stop.

"h-he's not there." you answered, pausing multiple times to try and control your sobs.

"but you called him earlier, miss." she said.

"yeah, only t-to zip up.. m-my dress..!" you said, biting your lip as his hand met your cheek again and again, your lips trembling as you cried a bit.

"oh.. okay, miss! please call me if needed." she said, coriolanus relaxed seeing her shadow disappear on the ground, your mouth being stupidly stuffed with your panties again.

"god, you're a terrible actor, bunny." he said, picking up pace while fucking you deep and fast. "great thing you're such a perfect wife for me."

you mewled into his touches, feeling him slap your butt terribly strong, your skin burning as you moaned. "'m sowwy, love" you said, not taking in the tease, it was too difficult to speak up when there was a pair of panties shoved on your mouth.

he slapped across your boobs, your nipples stinging up while his other thumb rubbed against your over sensitive clit against his skillful hands, his hand slapping and pinching at your clit.

"sorry, coryo, sorry!" you begged, crying eyes closing shut as you felt your climax next and ready to engulf your body, but it didn't.

however, he was the first to cum, breeding you up real nice for him while you kept crying.

"coryo!" you begged, not even needing to say the words for him to know what you wanted, his index and his thumb kept on assaulting your clit, his lips kissing your tears.

"sorry, bunny. you're not gonna cum until we arrive home." and those words were enough for you to cry more, your pussy clenching as he pulled his cock away, leaving your cunt to clench on the air, already missing his cock. "be a good girl, okay? if you complain, you won't be cumming for the next month." he threatened.

he helped you dress your panties again, paying for the dress that was still on your body, your body, that was still stuffed with his cum. you and him walked to home, he only demanded that the chauffeur would leave your shopping bags on your closet.

he made you walk all the way to home with your panties stuffed in cum, but you didn’t and you wouldn't complain. you knew that the best you behaved, the soon you'd be cumming on your shared bed, making a mess on his face and on his cock.

you hugged his arm, biting your lip while day dreaming about how much he'd fuck you when you both arrived home. which he did.