RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT
SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3
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TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks
“Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."
CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016
NORWAY, 1400 HOURS
"You're movin' too much, still."
"You are quite literally breathing down my neck. Kinda hard not to."
"Yeah, well, get used to it, love. 'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."
You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle. Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course.
Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation. The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape. You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead. Keep things equal. Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.
The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out. A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.
You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice. Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room. Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him. It quickly became something of a race.
When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind. For some reason, it made him smile, too.
"I hate sniper duty," you grumble. "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."
"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."
"And what's that?"
"Patience."
You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless. A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation. He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things. As it would turn out, you were good company. Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless.
You were improving, too. Temperament and strength-wise. How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.
"You're not funny," you retort.
"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."
You huff and shoot him a look. "Did I get it done?"
"Affirmative."
"And did I beat you while doing it?"
He shrugs. "More or less."
"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."
His eyebrows raise, amused. "Is that a threat I hear?"
"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."
He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought. "I'd like to see you try, Angel."
You smile, gaze focused through the scope. You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes. The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.
"Ghost."
"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.
You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.
"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air. "And my lighter."
He shakes his head with an amused smirk. "You're supposed to be focusing."
"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."
"And what if this is a real scenario? You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."
"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again. "So gimme."
He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.
"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack. "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it."
You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you. He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it. You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale. When he looks up, you're already looking at him. He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.
A beat passes where you both just stare at each other. Simon finds he can't read your expression. Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.
"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed. "At your twelve o' clock. About four kilometers out."
Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck. What the hell was that?
"Copy that."
You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag. For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016
NORWAY, 1800 HOURS
Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering. He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away. You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them. Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit. Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.
Roger's Back.
Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble. After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now. Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him. He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.
That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.
He's massive, is Simon's first thought. The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.
Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.
There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch. There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.
Ah. Roger. The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.
The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.
Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure. Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert. Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken. In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.
And you're uncomfortable. Tense. Ready to bite at a moment's notice.
You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you. Some words are exchanged. You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.
You hold your ground. You don't punch first—just like Simon told you. He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips. Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first. Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.
Next time, the man says. Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.
Simon watches you think about it. He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust. But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill. You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.
You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off. Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder. His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.
It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall. Roger lets out a startled yelp.
"You lay another finger on her," he snarls. "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"
Roger's eyes are wide. The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.
"I said do you copy?"
"Yes—yes, sir. Copy and check."
Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."
Roger stumbles. Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.
He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.
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HAPPY 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO SHIVER SPLATOON GENDER DISCOURSE!!!
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bullysona dump (they/he/xe)
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I never use this blog because the eddsworld fandom is genuinely the only fandom I've been completely fucking miserable trying to engage with. It's full of trans people and yet the community is SO hostile towards non-afab or non masc aligned in some way trans people. I've had people blatantly refused to respect my pronouns after saying they would. I've been misgendered in a server full of trans people where literally no one else was misgendered because there were pronoun roles. In that same server, while I was uplifting trans people making jokes about being proud of their bodies, they made fun of me for not having breasts. I've had multiple people debate my boundaries like it's a topic of discussion because I asked not to be called dude, a GENDERED TERM. I've had people gang up on me to the point of tears because I dared to describe my experiences being raised with an unconventional relationship to gender. I've been accused of holding grudges and being aggressive for even daring to speak up when I'm tired of being treated this way
And these events don't refer to a bunch of random assholes, they refer to people well known in the fandom. People I've seen on multiple servers. People whose names you say and it gets recognized
The eddsworld fandom has a HUGE transmisogyny problem and it needs to be discussed. The way I constantly feel unsafe when in a fandom surrounded by trans people is completely unacceptable
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old drawing I never posted. i like these two freaks, I should draw them more
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2. A girl and her partner’s cat
I might have gotten carried away with this but in our DnD session, we learned some exciting new info about Your Honor, Janos’s winged cat, who it turns out is some sort of celestial! I’ve never drawn them before so I’m not yet sure of their fur pattern, but I do think they’re a shorthair cat.
Masvari was a sweet bonus ;D
I’m probably always going to be posting the drawings the day after they’re technically for, because my schedule runs late so I usually only have time to draw after midnight. And besides, as long as I stick with the spirit of the challenge, the details aren’t that important :D
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Wrote down a little bullshitted up lineage of primes thing as a treat, and I threw in a few of primes for a gap in between Prime Nova and Nova Prime, the latter is in my list as "Nova Prime 2: electric boogaloo" which is hilarious.
The oc primes:
Prime Proxima, Prime Plerion, Caerulus Prime, Cepheidis Prime, Asterism Prime, Luminus Prime, and Theta prime
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"Noooo what if this person is actually cis and only using they/them for clout???" CIS PEOPLE ARE ALSO ALLOWED TO USE THEY/THEM
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king please go off about about your favorite aspects of your stolen divinity au. Is it your fav au? Why/why not? Also 👀👀 what’s up with the hearth god? If youre willing to drop spoilers
The stolen divinity au is my favorite AU!!! And it's so very special to me for a looooot of reasons. It's one of the only AUs that i've made with @unovanhunny that I'm like... in for the long haul with, it has a set story and one that is personally very meaningful to me in a lot of ways! It deals with healing and growth and living with disability and the bad things that have been done to you and that you have done to others.
I feel like people often expect the roleplay to be much darker then it is because of the backstory. I mean, a god going mad with grief and eating other gods is pretty serious shit. But ultimately the focus is on Ingo's recovery from his imprisonment and how Emmet heals both from having Ingo back and from finally getting to be a person again after spending so long seeking vengeance against the people that took his brother from him. They've spent most of the roleplay cuddling and being disgustingly sappy.
It also involves them uncovering a lot of horrible things that happened to them, sometimes without their knowledge and done by those that they trusted almost as much as they trust each other. Ultimately, it's an AU about unearthing (literally) trauma and healing from it.
As for the Hearth God... I want to keep their role in the current story underwraps for the grand reveal but! They're a childhood friend of Emmet (and to a lesser extent Ingo who was more of a friendly rival) and his best friend outside of Elesa and Ingo. When Ingo died and Elesa was forced to flee the pantheon, they were the only one to remain with Emmet and take care of him between blood baths. If you think of Emmet as Sweeney Todd during the war against the gods then the Hearth God is his Mrs. Lovett!
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remember how jk was vaguely based on lb joker before i just made her an oc
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My friendly reminder that fact core canonically refers to itself with It/Its pronouns !!
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i’m serious about you
summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date
note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!
i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!
warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns
masterlist :)
“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”
You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.
“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”
“Do you like this bakery?”
Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.
“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”
He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.
You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.
You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.
Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.
This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.
The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.
“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”
“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.
He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”
“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”
Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.
“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”
A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.
He panics.
“I must be special.”
Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.
“Yeah, you are.”
Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.
He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.
You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.
“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.
“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”
Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.
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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒
summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help
pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader
warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part
twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]
𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑
It was decidedly too early for this.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.
And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.
At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.
So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.
“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.
“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”
As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.
“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”
“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.
“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”
“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes.
“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”
“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”
“Yeah but-”
You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.
“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”
As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.
Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.
“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.
“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”
“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.
“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic.
Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity.
When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.
The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.
“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”
Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.
When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes.
Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly.
With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people.
“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”
“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.
“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.
“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.
“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”
By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper.
“Love you, too.”
𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇
Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.
So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.
Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.
So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.
“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury.
“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.
But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound?
“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”
“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”
“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”
“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”
Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.
Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.
Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.
Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.
A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.
It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure.
With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any.
He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.
The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.
When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.
After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously.
Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart.
“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”
“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.”
“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”
“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”
𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑
There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all.
Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently.
You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.
“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”
“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.
“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”
“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”
“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”
“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.
“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”
“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.
Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.
What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat.
The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting.
One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them.
During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.
When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.
“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”
At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps.
After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.
“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum.
“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.
“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”
“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone.
“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.
© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42
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♡ — 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐑𝐄 | 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑
— TW: smut, praise, dark themes, age gap, leve yandere, age gap, friend of your farher!albert wesker, v!sex, manipulation, nsfw, distorted mind, oral, afab anatomy, blackmail, recorded sex, daddykink, no pronouns used besides 'you'.
♡—Wesker was a sick man, he knew that, but Albert's darkest desires could not be ignored for long. He was your dad's co-worker, and to tell the truth, he hated the man, however, there was something about your father that interested him... You.
♡— Wesker, unfortunately for you, laid eyes on you, it was just small glances behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but soon after, you were already in the scientist's darkest thoughts. He thought you were a precious thing, a little pearl that needed to be protected by him, so he decided to get even closer to your dad, it was so easy to manipulate the man and infiltrate your family that Albert found it pathetic, but he needed you... Being close to you, you were eating away at his mind with every bitter second that passed in the older man's abjacent solitude.
♡— Wesker could just get rid of anyone in the worst way possible and lock you up in a place isolated from everything and everyone, make you his untouched little doll, lock you in a glass dome and watch you all day — he could force you to loving him, worshiping him like a god, he wanted to make you walk on the ground he walks on and see your tongue lick every drop of his seed, things escalated very quickly for him, but he didn't care, in the blonde's head, he was a superior being, and could do anything he wanted.
♡— Wesker researched every strong and weak point of your personality, in a few days he had a folder and raw files of hours and hours of recordings of you, either with the wiretap he secretly placed on your cell phone, or with the cameras hidden behind home — which he put it when he went to your house, to drink some wine and hand over some papers from the umbrella to your dad — or for the hours he spent stalking every post of yours on the internet. He knew everything about you... Absolutely everything, you were his obsession, you were his property and his alone... It didn't take long for you to realize that.
♡— Wesker began with calm touches, as if he were watering a flower, wetting your petals of desire with the nectar of hot, forbidden touches. He would pay you so much attention, wearing the best smile behind his serious and cold face, his lips would always have an expression of comfort for you — He would always shower you with sweet nicknames, telling you how proud he is of you always giving your best to you. college grades, or how good you were. He would divert your father's attention just to visit you in your room, giving you expensive gifts that you had wanted for a long time. "— I just remembered you baby, it suits your eyes, don't worry about the value sweetheart." Albert would speak in a hoarse tone, placing the emerald necklace around your neck, brushing his fingers for too long on your skin and leaving soon after, leaving you with a confused feeling in your chest and a heat in your core.
♡— Wesker has been mentally writing down the best nicknames he can think of. "— My Prince/Princess, My doll, My baby boy/baby girl, My little gem, My good boy/girl, honey, darling, dear, sweet little thing." And all of them are accompanied by mischievous phrases and smiles. " — Good job prince/princess, you did well... Keep it up." " — you really are a cute little thing, aren't you? Making Daddy happy." The scientist would purr in your ear, away from your father's eyes... Not that he cares much, but he loves the feeling of adrenaline, seeing your face blush, you would be a mess for a simple compliment or word of affirmation... It was so cute to him, like a stalking prey, a deer lost and beautiful in the snow.
♡— Wesker knew that resisting his charm was never an option, and it wouldn't be. He is a man who knows how to play his cards right, and it wouldn't take long for him to trap you in his web of manipulation and possession, he would make you his body, mind and soul, break you to the breaking point.
♡— Wesker would have luxurious dinners at his penthouse, calling his family, an excuse to see you again. He would get your dad drunk enough to pull you to some corner of the house and pull down your clothes, slapping your ass hard as he knelt kissing your clit, forcing you to lean against the cold wall while he fucked you out. "— Fuck imagine if your father comes in here and sees his sweet son/daughter like that? Fucking his friend?" Albert smiled mischievously, as he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you to the sides, leaving you well prepared for him. He would hold you with his strong arms, taking you to the table where your father slept drunk, fucking you in front of the man's sleepy body. " — Fucking h-hell Mmm- imagine if he wakes up? Seeing you like this? Seeing that you're nothing but a fucking slut." He babbled, pushing the base of his dick into your cunt, while you covered your moans with your hand, feeling your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure.
♡— Wesker will fuck you in your own house, making an excuse for your father who needs to recommend some colleges to you, while he aggressively beats you on the mattress, tying your ankles with his tie, while overstimulating your pussy, inserting his shaft repeatedly into your uterus, he'll just take out even the tip and put it all in at once with a sadistic smile on his thin lips. "—I could fuck you like this all day."
♡— Wesker would say such dirty and sweet things to you while turning you into a dumb mess. " — Your sweet little pussy is made for my cock, isn't it?" His free hand reaches down to caress your breasts, pinching and pinching your sensitive nipples, eliciting more moans from your lips. He continues to tease and torment you, pushing you closer to the edge of orgasm before pulling back, prolonging your agony - and his, you could beg and whimper, as he takes a cell phone out of his pocket, focusing on your wet, abused hole. " — Oh, you little slut," he grows. " —I love the way you look when my cock stretches you out like this Ah- Fuck sweetheart-" And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "—Not yet, my dear," he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "—You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission."
♡— Wesker will take several photos of your body covered in semen, in compromising positions and with his dick in your mouth, videos, gifs or any digital media available, he will manipulate and chat you so that you are always his, always stay on his side.
" — You will never run away from me, my little pet... Or else... Your father and all your family, friends... They will know what a whore you are, so just be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boys/girls don't think."
©𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇 2023
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STOP TELEPHONING ME FT. BLUE LOCK MEN
features: shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru, and when someone calls you during sex.
contains: female reader. pro! blue lock charas. penetrative sex. oral sex. fingering. semi public for reo and bachira. a creampie from sae. brief filming in shidou’s. she and her pronouns used. you or him are on the phone in all of them so yeah !!
note: these are so long for hcs i am so sorry about that
SHIDOU RYUSEI
one of the sweetest things about ryusei, is that his camera roll is filled to the brim with you.
countless rows of what seems like every image of you ever—screenshots of your instagram stories, all those pictures you’ve sent with the message do i look ok attached, and of course—the dozens of photos he’s snapped of you himself.
sweet indeed—although, he’s still him, and so this habit of his isn’t all innocent admiration and good intentions. he has zero hesitation when it comes to filming you during sex—it’s a nasty side effect of his little obsession and, even nastier, he prefers leaving that type of media on your phone; sweet videos of him with his cock stuffed inside you.
so when he’s doing just that—using your device to record himself fucking you from behind, and the words can i help you suddenly leave his mouth—your heart nearly stops. did he really just? with a reluctant glance over your shoulder, you find him holding your phone up to his ear, grinning. he did.
“ryusei! what the fuck? who’s—” you attempt to scold him through an aggressive whisper, but get cut off by your own gasp when he pushes down on the side of your head—forcing your cheek flat against the mattress. he rolls his hips forwards with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but melt into the cotton sheets and moan when he does so—being effortlessly tamed by the thickness of his cock.
“oh? you sure you wanna talk to her? she’s a little busy right now,” he sneers into the receiver, grin tripling in both size and arrogance when he looks down and sees your face—scrunched up in pure ecstasy as you fist the fabric on either side of your head. yeah, busy being all fucking his.
nevertheless, he thinks it’d be rude of him to not transfer the call over—this person went through the effort of dialling your number, after all.
so he tucks your phone between his shoulder and his ear, and uses both hands to pull you upright—flush against his chest. with his left hand latching onto your throat, and his right now holding your phone a couple inches from your ear, he purrs, “it’s for you, babydoll. wanna say hi?”
there’s a beat of silence, and then you hear it, a voice seething with anger—one that belongs to none other than your ex boyfriend. shit.
you’re holding your breath now—hoping that if you can remain silent, he’ll give up on his attempt to reach you altogether. a decent plan—but not for someone who’s currently dating the world’s biggest instigator. “c’monnnn, at least tell him how good your boyfriend’s fuckin’ you.”
he hums in content as his left hand travels south—between your tits and eventually, onto your clit. he uses his middle finger to rub tight circles, and with his cock still pressing kisses to your sensitive spots, with his tongue dancing across your neck—a whine slips out from between your lips.
and your ex hangs up—spewing a few unsavoury comments about your boyfriend before doing so.
“awwww, we were just getting to the best part,” ryusei whines, but he doesn’t stay down for long. “get ready to cum for me baby, and don’t fuckin’ hold back. we’re gonna leave him a voicemail.”
MICHAEL KAISER
when it comes to you, michael is both equal parts selfish and selfless.
he’s great at sharing. everything from his clothing to his habits—routines he’s stuck with for years, changed, because he wants his luxe life to be something you can experience with him.
like tonight, for instance—where a past version of himself would have returned home from practice, and immediately gotten into a hot bath to loosen his sore muscles. present him is in fact relaxing in a hot bath after a rather shit practice, but present him also has a pretty girl to help him wind down.
and while your boyfriend has no problem sharing with you, hell would freeze over before he’d share you. you’re his, and though he seldom allows his possessive behaviour to control him—it seems to linger on his shoulders nonetheless, particularly after a bad day.
you’re doing your best to lift his spirits—bouncing on his cock, pressing needy kisses along his inked neck—when your phone starts buzzing against the tiled ledge surrounding the tub. he knows you’ve been expecting an important call, but he doesn’t want you to stop—he’s not going to let you stop. even so, he’d be a pretty bad boyfriend if he ignored the call altogether, so he’ll answer it himself—seeing as you’re preoccupied.
“hello?” his voice is smooth, nonchalant—a little too much so. you still your movements, watching expectantly as michael’s gaze shift to yours. he smiles before continuing, as if he’s softening the impending blow. “an interview? sure, let me pass you to her.”
his eyes darken ever so slightly as he holds your phone out, mouthing the words take it.
you obey your boyfriend’s command with a little too much confidence—bringing the device up to your ear and barely managing a hello of your own before michael has you cupping a hand over your mouth with a sharp thrust of his hips. he doesn’t stop there either—grabbing onto your waist tight, more or less holding you still as he begins fucking into you at a steady pace.
“uh, i-i’m,” your mind goes blank as the voice of your potential employer rings in your ears with a simple question—what does your availability look like? michael is eavesdropping of course, sucking feverishly at the delicate skin on your neck as he strains to hear the conversation.
“monday through friday my love, isn’t that right?” he purrs into your opposite ear—handing you the answer on a silver platter. he wants you to get at least one response out before he inevitably, but indirectly ends the call. maybe it’s his sour mood tainting his train of thought, but the future where you have a job—is one where you have less time for him, less time for this. he doesn’t want that. “because you’re all mine on the weekends, aren’t you? such a precious girl, letting me fuck you like this. i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby.”
the words drip from his mouth like honey, sweet and genuine. it’s times like these that prove how scary love is, because in the heat of the moment—you’re convinced that you don’t really want this job, that all you want is to be his.
the water sloshes against the walls of the bathtub as you crumble onto his shoulder with a whine—phone silent and blank as it sits uselessly in your hand. michael runs his palms up and down your back in an attempt to soothe the upset he just assisted in—cock jumping when you sit up and pout at him.
“you’ll definitely get the next one, my love. in the meantime, this can be your full time job,” he grins—smug, but not insincere in the slightest. “you’re already a perfect fit.”
MIKAGE REO
reo, prim and proper at first glance—the perfect textbook gentleman, is anything but.
he has the courteous mannerisms down to a tee, all charming smiles and soft touches as he opens the door to his luxurious car—holding out a hand to help you inside. once you’re seated, he’ll do an adorable little jog over to the driver’s side because—keeping a pretty girl waiting just isn’t right.
his chivalry ends there though, because a parking lot is the perfect place for you to suck him off, he thinks.
and oh, how absolutely perfect you are—leaned over the centre console with your tongue swirling around his tip. he can’t help but pant a little as he lets his head fall back against the seat.
but his euphoria is short lived, because the sound of your ringtone fills his vehicle almost as quickly as it kills the mood—bluetoothed and displaying a name on the dashboard’s touch screen. seishiro. reo figures he’s only calling you to ask about him, but it’s awfully late, and while he has no reason to distrust his best friend—he finds himself curious, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.
so, he taps his finger on the little green button.
“ynnn,” nagi’s voice emanates from the speakers—syllables drawn out and on the whinier side. you peer up at reo, and he’s looking down at you, eyes heavy with anticipation as he waits for a follow up. “are you with reo?”
your boyfriend visibly relaxes upon hearing that—and with his curiosity fed, he reaches forward to hang up, but—you swat his hand away.
“no, why? what’s up?” you hold eye contact with reo as you speak—ghosting your lips over his tip before licking up his shaft and taking him back into your mouth. you’re hoping that nagi will start to ramble, because if he does—reo will have to stay quiet, or at least attempt to.
and nagi happens to want an unreleased game, one that reo could pull a few strings and get his hands on if he wanted to—all things the voice on the other end is in the midst of explaining. he’s mere background noise though, because your attention is solely on reo and his cock.
you hold him near the base, using your hand to pump whatever your mouth can’t accommodate. reo shifts in his seat—biting down on the knuckle of his index finger as he goes one on one against the urge to buck up into your face, because that’d really conjure up a sinful sound.
and reo worries he might draw blood when you hum against him—sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock, and oh fuck, he’s so close. his brows knit together as he taps frantically on the screen—ending the call. he cums seconds later, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans and gasps through his orgasm.
“c’mere,” he breathes heavily—cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips onto yours for a messy kiss. “you wanna sit on it, sweetheart? we can head to the backseat.”
ITOSHI SAE
it might not seem like it, but there’s nowhere sae would rather be on his day off than here.
sitting on a small padded bench inside the private fitting room of a store, with you straddling his lap in a little floral mini dress. he figures that if he’s going to blow this much money on so little fabric, he might as well trial the garment’s true purpose—sex whenever and wherever he wants.
and now, as he watches you grind down onto the growing bulge in his pants—dress bunched up at your waist with one of the straps slipping off your shoulder, he can definitely see himself getting his money’s worth.
he’s just getting into it—running his hands over your ass and hips, tangling his fingers around the lace of your panties—when your phone starts to ring. at first, neither of you even acknowledge the sound, but it persists with a second call, and out of his peripherals—sae sees his manager’s name sitting the top of the screen. great, so much for your alone time.
“hello?” your voice is soft, and yet it still manages to catch your boyfriend off guard. during his brief sulk, you’ve not only answered the call, but put it on speaker as well. “is everything alright?”
the words i need to talk to sae come through, and you feel the breeze from his eye roll. you run your fingers through the hair at the back of sae’s head, pulling him a little closer as you continue to move your hips. he nuzzles into your neck soon after—eyes heavy as he watches your movements in the floor to ceiling mirror directly across from him.
“sorry, no can do. you know he needs the break,” you hum into the receiver, and you swear sae’s grip on you tightens. he loves it when you defend him like this—he thinks it’s hot.
so hot—he just can’t keep it in his pants anymore. he’s unbuttoning and unzipping—pushing fabric out of the way until his cock is springing free, and finally, he’s sinking into your cunt.
a breathy fuck falls from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall—staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity, which—in this dress, just might be true. his nails carve into your hips as he drags you along his shaft, and oh—it’s so easy for him to get carried away when you’re hugging him so tight.
“he’ll call you first—first thing in the morning.” you fumble over your words a little when the head of sae’s cock presses against a sensitive spot, but you get the response you wanted nonetheless—a that’s good thank you, and the call ends there.
a reward worthy performance, he thinks.
“oh god, sae,” you whine—and he buries his face back into the crook of your neck, recognizing the familiar knot unraveling just below his waist. his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he cums hard, breathing heavy against your skin as he watches the mirror’s reflection through hooded lids—staring intently as white starts to leak out of you, and down the side of his cock.
“careful, you’re gonna ruin the dress,” he mutters—knowing full well that the sticky mess is all him. “guess i have to buy it now, huh?”
BACHIRA MEGURU
meguru’s fatal flaw is his attention span, or rather—his lack thereof.
the dinner reservation was at seven—a table for four. you, him, and two representatives from a sports brand that’s interested in sponsoring him.
it’s a few minutes past the hour, and the other duo is evidently running a little late—no big deal, but your boyfriend thinks otherwise. he’s sitting with his chin in his palm, twirling a straw around his fingers, and crumbling under the weight of his boredom. unfortunately, you don’t think this is an establishment that’d have a colouring page and some crayons for him, but not to worry—he’s just found something else to entertain himself.
“meguru, behave,” you shoot him a glance as he scoots closer—hearing him mutter a yes ma’am, but still feeling his hand beneath your skirt a few seconds later. he brushes his middle finger over the thin fabric of your panties—gently rubbing over your clit before he begins tracing what you think are hearts onto your cunt.
your gaze floods with desire—a look that meguru knows well, and loves dearly. he’s getting excited now, tail wagging with delight, because he knows that you’ll let him continue—so long as he doesn’t make it obvious to anyone in the room.
this means that, when one of the representatives suddenly starts calling you, he technically doesn’t have to behave.
“hello?” you bring your phone up to your ear, and at the same time—meguru’s hand slips past the waistband of your panties. he sighs in content—slouching back in his seat and lolling his head to the side. you’d almost think he was the one being touched. “w-what? you can’t find it?”
ah, so you’re saying they’re lost—which loosely translates to you have more time to play. good.
using his index and ring finger to spread you open—he sinks his middle into your warm cunt, curling it upwards and moving his hand side to side a bit. meanwhile, the voice on the other line is begging for directions, and you’re struggling to give them.
you lean into meguru’s side and hold his wrist—not to stop his movements, but to limit them, at least until you manage to get off the phone. but your boyfriend—sweet as pie and smart when it’s convenient for him, presses a kiss to your temple, and decides that he’ll take care of it for you.
“look for the big arena tour billboard, we’re right below that. see you soon,” he leans in and hums happily into your phone, and the rep thanks him before hanging up. with time now running out, he brings all three of his fingers up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. “mmm, i don’t wanna stop, baby. wanna make you cum.”
“megs, that’s them!” you squeak—spotting two well dressed, important looking people scurrying past a window on the opposite side of the room. you claw at meguru’s wrist—but his fingers stay glued to your clit for as long as possible, and he ends up pulling away mere seconds before they round the corner.
he’s all innocent smiles and waves as the two approach the table—not so subtly licking up the side of his middle finger, which—wouldn’t be so awful if there were more than just drinks on your table. either way, it’s swept under the rug, and the four of you begin introducing yourselves while looking over the menu.
and your phone is on silent at this point, but it lights up with one new message from meguru.
bathroom in 5? <3 i know what i wanna eat ;)
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PERVY ROOMMATE! GETO X AFAB! READER
content warning: dark content! minors dni, non con recording, size kink, somno, dubcon, she/her pronouns, half is just pure smut and the other half of geto obsessed with you, manipulation, rich uni student! geto, little bit of gojo watching and joining, i didn’t proof read :0
minors and ageless block will get blocked!
requests and thirsts are open!
— GETO SUGURU
pervy roommate! geto met you through Shoko, she was your roommate before she transferred to a art college, you were 2 years younger than him and he thought you had the cutest smile and sweetest looking eyes (even if you refused to make eye contact with him)
pervy roommate! geto who immediately texted you, offering you a room to rent when he heard word from Shoko that you can’t afford to keep rented once your lease is finished
pervy roomate! geto who got concerned messages from Shoko asking why he’s offering his place when he doesn’t need extra money just to get a half ass reply of him “being nice” which she obviously didn’t believe
pervy roommate! geto who loved how shy you were not knowing it’s cause you were constantly flustered by him (i mean look at him)
pervy roommate! geto who is so good at the innocent act, just wanting to get into your pants at first, being so sweet and helpful when you first move in before he genuinely starts falling for you
pervy roommate! geto who so enamoured by you. he’s the type of guy who loves with his whole heart or not at all, and he didn’t know why he was so blindly in love with you; all he knew is that he needed you with his whole being.
pervy roommate! geto who finds every excuse in the book to touch you, he did it once in front of satoru makes and he never lets him live it down
and by every excuse i mean every, including things like grabbing something that you wanted, pressing his band against yours and handing it to you cause “he wanted something from the cupboard too” or putting his hand on the small of your back whenever he’s in close proximity to you
pervy roommate! geto who swears that your perfect for him and get lost in his own daydreams of you
pervy roomate! geto who steals your perfume and sprays it on his pillow to fall asleep
pervy roommate! geto who asks to watch horror movies with you all the time and always has arm around your shoulder, saying it’s cause he gets scared easily but just wants to hold you close when you jump or flinch
totally not to stare at your tits when you get scared
pervy roommate! geto who uses his social status to his advantage to make sure no one tries flirting with you on campus, and goes out of his way to walk you to your classes but of course you’re oblivious to this and cry to suguru about how ugly you feel and only calm down to his reassurance…
pervy roommate! geto who gets a little hard whenever he sees you in his sweaters, and when he comments on it you reply with “oh i’m sorry, i found it in my laundry and just put it on, is it okay?” which he obviously replies with yes, because he was the one who put it there in the first place
pervy roommate! geto who brings girls home who look like you and makes sure he has the headboard banging against the wall with them screaming his name loud enough for you to hear hoping you get jealous
and gets even more annoyed when you don’t comment on it so he eventually stops
pervy roommate! geto can’t help but rub his aching bulge whenever your back is turned, immediately palming his cock at the sight of your ass
pervy roommate! geto who jerks off to your instagram pics and cums all over his hand moaning about how he loves you
pervy roommate! geto who jerks off while you’re talking to him on the phone, getting off to your voice when your asking him about things you need for the house, he knows it’s pathetic but fucking loves it
pervy roommate! geto who can’t help but peak into your room when you masterbate, watching you, eyes closed with your fingers inside you cunt making him so hard he almost dropped his phone on the floor trying to take it out of his pocket to record you
pervy roommate! geto who surprises you with food all the time watching you eat the food he mixed his cum into
pervy roommate! geto who jerks off to you while you sleep, biting his lip holding back his moans trying not to cum on your face while your dirty panties are wrapped around his thick cock
pervy roommate! geto who takes pics of you in your cute hello kitty panties while sleeping
pervy roomate! geto who’s horniness gets the best of him when your drunk and asleep and uses your hand to jerk him off and feels guilty that he doesn’t feel that bad about doing it
pervy roommate! geto that’s so good at hiding his want for you, you would’ve never known if it weren’t for the pictures and missing pairs of panties you found in his room when looking for a lighter to borrow
pervy roommate! geto who keeps a eerily gentle smile on his face when you confront him and when you ask why he did it his smile goes wider befor he says “i don’t know, i just needed to see you” inching towards you
pervy roomate! geto who corners you, caressing and pressing kisses to your soft skin, telling you how you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen and how you’re perfectly made for him, and how happy he’ll make you if you give him a chance
pervy roommate! geto who doesn’t stop his antics after you find out, just openly being more obvious
pervy roomate! geto who’s version of damage control is buying you clothes and things you like while professing his love (obsession)
pervy roommate! geto who takes you to expensive restaurants tells you to dress pretty and pink and has to hide his boner half the night when you listen
pervy roommate! geto who’s almost cums in his pants when he apologizes to you again once you get back home and you say “I like it when you obsess over me.” so quietly he almost missed it and pretends he did but definitely remembers it
pervy roommate! geto who keeps pushing boundaries, his past cute touches now have his grabbing your ass, coming up behind you and slipping his hands up your shirt, massaging your tits
pervy roomate! geto who has you bent over the counter with you cute little skirt flipped up, his strong hands holding yours behind your back
“Such a tight little pussy! You look so cute with that cunt filled with cum.” He chuckled with amusement. After three rounds he was still hard and your pussy was dripping with cum. He was an animal, he thought your legs giving out and strained voice was cute, teasing you for giving in; finally having you to himself, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
“Oh fuck! it’s too much!” You cried out, making Geto deliver a swift slap to your ass.
“Are you saying you want me to stop angel?”
He pulled out, cock running down your puffy wet slit, smearing his cum all over just to hear you whine. “No… please ‘guru.” Your words slurred as you begged.
“Please what?”
“Please use me! Your cock feels ‘so good!”
“Now take it like a good slut and stop whining, you look so pretty taking my cock, don’t you princess?”
pervy roommate! geto who buys you cute outfits to wear around the house, practically drooling anytime he catches you actually wearing them, grabbing your ass and tits trying to feel you up telling you how he loves when yours a good girl and listen to him
pervy roommate! geto who sees you cooking dinner and lifts up your dress and apron just to take pictures of your ass and pussy in the cute lacy panties he bought you
pervy roommate! geto who answers facetimes while fucking you, flipping the camera and showing them how good his pretty slut can take his cock
pervy roommate! geto who has gojo watch him fuck you like a doll after you all went out drinking, telling Satoru about how tight you are and how he knows how badly he wants to use you before offered your mouth to help him cum
pervy roommate! geto who gets annoyed when you tell him you have to go to class instead of another round with him.
“why are you still bothering with class? clearly you need another load in you”
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