#he would still be desperate not to leave the others behind

[f1fantasys]

Riding his pole, when he got pole

Warnings - swearing, blowjob, cockwarming, fingering, m and f receiving oral, p in v sex.

2.7k words

You watched on as Lando had just got pole under the bright lights of Singapore, and you knew that this is just what he needed to boost his morale after last weeks horrendous quali.

He was a burst of energy after that - doing his interviews with a confidence that suited him so well, you couldn't help but clench your thighs together as you eyed him up and down while he was talking to Sky. The heat of the night letting him shine a glorious sheen of sweat that was literally dripping down his face and had his hair sticking to his forehead His eyes had caught you gawking at him, and he sent a smirk and a wink your way. You just couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and have your way with him. Quickly, you sent him a text;

don't shower

Because you wanted him as is. He looked so fucking sexy.

A short while later, Lando had found you waiting with Laila. You had your back to him, so as he approached you he let his arms slide around your body into a tight hug from behind, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

Your instinct had you squeezing his hands that were resting on your stomach, as you turned your head and pecked his cheeks as best you could.

Laila quickly bid you both goodbye as Mick had just texted her saying he was ready to leave.

''Hi baby'' you mumbled, as soon as she left, taking in Lando's scent, a mix of his sweat and musky perfume.

''Hmmm'' he said, smiling with his face still in your neck.

''Back to the hotel?'' you asked, knowing Lando would catch on to how desperate you were.

''Someone's needy'' he said, turning your body to face his fully as he pulled you into a soft kiss, hands running through your hair.

''Huh, and you're to blame'' you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind you.

The drive back to the hotel was filled with chatter about the day, though you really couldn't concentrate on anything Lando was saying.

When at a red light, his hand found your thigh and slowly inched its way up, slipping past your dress and into the elastic of your panties.

Your breath hitched as you turned to look at him, but his eyes were straight ahead, face neutral, as if his fingers weren't running through your folds.

You spread your legs wider as he found your clit, pinching and tugging on it, unable to keep you moans at bay.

''Fuck Lan'' you panted, biting down harshly on your bottom lip as he finally pushed a finger through your entrance, quickening his pace when he realized how slick you were.

But suddenly, when the light went green, Lando's fingers left your body and went straight into his mouth. He sucked them all clean on your juices, and placed his hand back on the steering wheel, driving off as if you weren't a breathless mess in the seat next to him.

''Lannn'' you whined, but he just kept his eyes on the road ahead, so all you could do was clench your thighs as tightly as possible, hoping to relieve some of the pressure he had just built up.

''Patience, baby'' he finally said in his thick British accent, hoarse with how turned on he himself was.

Finally, back at the hotel, before you could even close the door properly, Lando had you pushed up against it, his mouth latching onto yours as if he was a starved man.

It was messy, and dirty. Spit already running down your chin as you pulled him impossibly closer, moaning into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. You won.

''Waited all fucking day to do this'' he breathed, lips moving down to your neck as you both stripped each other of your clothes.

You couldn't help but struggle to get Lando's polo and shorts off - they were stuck to him because of his sweat, which you weren't complaining about.

So as he pulled back to take everything off himself, you just stood there taking him in. You watched as his sweat traveled down his chest, defined abs, eventually settling on the top of his waist.

Lando caught you eyeing him up for the second time today, sending you another smirk. ''Like what you see?'' he asked.

You teasingly stuck your tongue out at him as you pushed him backwards to the couch.

He took a seat and spread his legs wide, and you swear you stopped breathing at the sight of him. Of course, he was devilishly handsome, had the hottest fucking body you could imagine, but when your eyes landed on his thick girth, you knew you were done for. It was always one of your favourite parts of his body. It stood there, tall and hard, begging for attention, twitching which caused pre cum to slide down the sides.

''Fuck, please'' he begged, face softening because he knew he was putty in your hands now.

''Who's eager now?'' you asked, sliding on to your knees between his legs before finally taking his dick into your hands and pumping him a few times.

''Fucking hell, you're seriously something else'' he mumbled, more to himself.

As much as you wanted to tease him, you were more desperate to have him in your mouth. To taste him. So you dove straight in, taking as much of his cock as you could, feeling the tip hit the back of your throat, already gagging at the action.

Lando leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, shutting his eyes and concentrating on the feeling of euphoria that you were giving him.

You quickened your pace of sliding him in and out of your mouth, stopping every so often to suck harshly on his tip before bottoming out again.

''Fuck baby, just like that'' he said, leaning down and taking your head in his hands, now guiding your movements as he fucked himself in and out of your mouth.

''So fucking good at this'' he moaned. You, for starters, were a mess. You had spit and precum running down your chin, dripping onto your clenched thighs.

All you could do was moan around his cock as you could feel Lando's actions starting to falter, indicating he was close to letting loose. You held down onto his thighs when his hold on your head tightened, almost painfully so.

''Fuck, y/n, I'm cuming'' Lando barely managed to say as he shot ropes of warm salty cum down your throat, letting out a series of dirty moans and grunts as he emptied his load.

You pulled back for air as you swallowed everything, your hands finding his still on your face as you squeezed on him, tears running down your face.

You looked up to see him with his eyes closed, face scrunched up in ecstasy before leaned forward to properly lick all the cum off his throbbing cock.

Lando hissed at the contact when your tongue swiped over his slit. ''Fuck'' he silently whispered.

Once you'd licked him clean, Lando pulled you onto his lap. You straddled him as he kissed you again, full of urgency and once again there was a battle of domination between you tongues.

You'd both stayed like that for a while, just content with making out endlessly until you needed air to breath so you pulled back and Lando rested his head back on the sofa, both your chests rising and falling to catch up to a normal heart rate again.

You smiled at each other, both exhausted from the day - it was long, hot, pumped on adrenaline - and as much as you wanted to fuck each other senseless, you were honestly too tired.

''Shower then bed?'' he asked. ''I'm exhausted''

''Yeah me too'' you said, quickly pecking his lips before climbing off and heading for the bathroom.

After a lazy shower together, where Lando decided he ''needed to taste you'', and 2 orgasms later, you jumped into bed, you being the little spoon and Lando being the big spoon.

He kissed you goodnight and settled behind you, wrapping you in his arms tightly. Just as you were about to doze off, you felt him shuffle.

''Lan?'' you asked, not liking the feeling of his arms moving to unwrap you.

''Yeah baby'' he whispered. ''Go back to sleep, I'll take care of it'' he said, slowing spreading your legs a little.

Quickly, your mind caught up to what he was doing, and you couldn't help but let out a stifle moan when you felt his rock hard cock brush against your ass.

Finally, Lando let his girth slide through your folds a few times before he slowly pushed himself into you, all the way in as he gave your body a chance to accept the intrusion.

You smiled to yourself and whispered to him ''Hmm, cockwarming. My favourite''

Once he was settled in nicely, he got comfortable behind you again, allowed his arms to wrap around you before kissing your neck a final time as you both dozed off, literally joined at the hip.

At some point through the night when you woke up to check the time, it took your mind a minute to get up to speed as to what was happening. You were still tucked in front of Lando and his cock was still sitting inside you, hard as ever.

As tired as you were, you couldn't help but move you body slightly forwards and backwards a few times to relieve the ache that was in your core. You could feel the slick and sticky juices from the both of you as you heard Lando mumble something but within minutes you both were fast asleep again.

When you awoke for the second time that night, you were on you tummy, and you could feel Lando's wight on top of you.

''Fuck, sorry'' he whispered. ''Needed you baby, go back to sleep'' he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck before you gentle started sliding in and out of you, this time relieving his own throbbing cock from the ache.

You were in a daze, half asleep, half awake as Lando moved in and out of you. Slowly at first, and when he noticed you weren't fully asleep, he quickened his movements rapidly.

''Fuck baby, you're so tight. So fucking good'' he whispered as you let out a few borderline pornographic moans. your fingers latching onto the bed-sheets and squeezing them.

''Lan, more please'' you begged.

He reached down and toyed with your clit, immediately sending you over the edge with no warning, your body shuddering underneath him as you coated his cock with your cum, and within seconds he followed behind, releasing his load deep within you as he rode you both through your orgasms.

No words, just breathless pants and moans filling the room until he finally let his body weight fall on your back, nuzzling his face into your neck, thanking you for being ''so fucking amazing''.

After you both caught your breaths again, Lando pulled out and quickly cleaned the both of you up before pulling you to his side, and you both fell asleep, more content than earlier.

When you finally woke in the morning, you groaned when you reached to the other side of the bed and found it empty, just as Lando emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel.

He gave you a wink and a sheepish smile as you shamelessly eyed him up and down when he let the towel drop to the floor, putting his boxers on, when you sprinted out of the bed and stopped him.

He gave you a shocked look at you sudden movement.

''Fuck, wait.'' you said, gently pushing him to sit down on the chair he was standing next to.

''Wanted to do this last night but was too tired. Need to do it now'' you said, straddling him in the chair, his arms instinctively wrapping around your too naked body.

You kissed him with force, wasting no time in sliding your tongue into his mouth before he could even respond, while his hands roamed your body. He squeezed your ass a few times before running them up to toy with your boobs.

''You're trouble.'' he said, ''And desperate.'' he said when you pumped his cock, sliding your thumb over his tip. ''But i love you'' he finally ended.

Just as you lined him up and were about to sink down on him, Lando stilled your movements from you waist. You let out a groan and gave him a puzzled, desperate look.

''Lannn what?'' he said, leaning down to leave a few wet kisses on his face and neck.

''What is it you wanted to do? This is nothing new? You riding me?'' he asked.

''Fuck, you got pole yesterday, and i wanna ride your pole'' you said softly.

Lando's whole demeanor changed. His eyes quickly turned shades darker, his expression changed to one that looked like he was ready to devour you, and you couldn't help but let out a giggle at his antics.

With no warning he pulled your body down onto him. Your giggles quickly turned into moans as you remembered what you were doing.

You braced your hands on his broad shoulders as you continuously lifted yourself up and down on him, his hands burning holes at how tight he was holding your waist, guiding your movements.

''Uh, Lando oh'' you moaned, feeling his dick throbbing inside of you.

''That's it baby, ride me, fuck me, fuck my pole baby, yeah'' he said through a few breathless moans of his own.

You leaned down and took one of his nipples into your mouth, sucking and tugging at it harshly as Lando was no lifted his hips up to meet your halfway.

''Fuck, Lando'' you moaned when his hands found your own boobs and pinched your nipples, before lowering his mouth to them and repeating what you just did to his.

''Lando I'm gonna cum'' you warned, knowing your orgasm would come soon.

''Fuck let it out baby. Riding me so fucking good, such a good little whore for me'' he said harshly as his fingers found your clit to stimulate you some more.

And with that your body was shaking above him, your orgasm ripping through you as you came violently around his throbbing cock.

''Fuck baby'' he moaned at the feeling of your juices coating him.

You don't know where you got the energy from now suddenly you were riding him faster now, desperate to feel him cum inside of you while you chased yet another high of your own.

''Gonna win today Lan, yeah? you questioned, knowing it would rile him up in the best ways before a race.

''Fuck yes'' he all but shouted, ''And then gonna celebrate with you later, gonna fuck you so hard you won't even be able to walk tomorrow'' he said between gritted teeth.

His word already had you cumming again, this time your body feeling like jelly in his arms, and so it was up to him to chase his high now, muttering dirty words in your ears though you couldn't even make it what he was saying in your fucked out state.

And in seconds Lando was throwing ''fucks'' out left right and center when he finally came undone, emptying his load into you again as you both slowed your movements.

You let your body collapse forward onto his as he held you tight, brushing your hair that was stuck to your face because of your sweat.

''If me getting pole means i get this as a reward, I'll fucking work for it every race. That was incredible baby'' he said, face so close to yours you could feel his breath.

All you could do was smile. ''Even better reward if you win the race'' you cooed.

And guess what? He fucking won the race later that day.

And guess what else? You couldn't walk properly the next day.

[daceydeath]

After Party

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Word Count: 0.7K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities, Swearing, Alcohol

A/N: This is literally come from seeing Hyunjin be too damn fine at the Versace show I have no excuse other than it's his own fault.

You had seen him at the show, his beauty accentuated by the sultry unbuttoned silk shirt and thin black choker but avoided him, sitting far from him you had managed to stay mostly out of his sight as he mingled and participated in interviews after the show. Now changed into a less structured dress you hoped that you would have the same luck at the party you were now stepping into. The drinks flowing and the music loud you were able to see glimpses of him as he danced his red leather trench flashing brightly as he moved. But as you drank and laughed your caution dropped you found yourself exactly where he wanted you to be. Your back pressed against a door you dress hitched up around your waist as his hands wandered across your burning skin.

“Hyunjin, we need to stop” you breathed, the warning lacking any conviction as you continued to kiss his lips between words. “You know we can’t”.

“Is that really what you want darling?” he smirked, kissing you deeply as swallowing the small gasp you let escape your throat. His fingers moved your underwear aside to let his fingers trace your damp folds. “You still can’t just admit you are mine and not his”.

His coat had been dropped to the floor somewhere behind him he had let go of it the moment he had cornered you in the empty room, now with his black trousers undone enough to get them halfway down his thighs he roughly sheathed himself inside you you eyes opening wide as you silently cried out his hips not stopping to give you even a second to adjust before he began thrusting into you with harsh desperation.

"Hyunie" you whined brokenly, your breath being punched out of you with each movement of his cock. "Please, I can’t…". 

"Tell me to stop then" He strained his voice thin "Tell me you don't want my cock so deep inside you, you will never forget how it feels". You clenched and moaned, your head falling back against the door, your brain starting to fog with pleasure too much to even comprehend how to speak.

"Ah... Ngh... Hyunjin" you breathed unable to make a sentence of even two words while his lips and tongue work on your neck nipping and sucking lightly at your flesh. “Please, more”.

"That's what I thought, you will always be mine darling" he uttered sensually moving his lips to mesh with yours, his tongue licking into your mouth which you were so willing to allow. Feeling the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix was sending red hot tendrils of pleasure through your body forcing you to pull him in closer with your leg that had remained tightly wrapped around his hip when he had placed it earlier.

"Fuck I need you so bad" Hyunjin groaned against your lips "Need to fill you, breed you, own you". His words were making you spiral the already insane level of pleasure from his perfect length pounding into you was sending you hurtling toward your high. Your thighs twitched and your eyes blurred with unshed tears until finally you broke, cuming so hard around him that his hips stuttered as your walls fluttered and gripped him so tightly you thought you might pass out.

"Hyunnie... Fuck Hyunnie" you sobbed feeling him resuming his previous pace each time he pressed into you the dull ache that followed him making you squirm in his grip.

"Relax darling I got you" he soothed his heavy panting against you neck slowing the speed of his hips and letting you breathe your vision is hazy now white dots appearing around the edges of the room but Hyunjin just kisses you again his lips soft and comforting contrasting in the best way to how he's pounding into your sopping cunt. "Only mine darling, only ever mine".

Each word leaving you shivering and gasping as you cum again only this time after a few more thrust Hyunjin follows you filling you with his hot seed as he presses himself as deep as he can inside your quaking walls.

"Hyunnie I..." You whisper, unable to trust your voice to come out properly.

"I know darling, I love you too. I always will" he smiles against your lips before kissing them sweetly.

a/n: Thank you for reading my loves you support, likes, reblogs and comments are my greatest encouragements and I appreciate you endlessly for them.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~

(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal

Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort

His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.

He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.

"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.

It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.

Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.

It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.

A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.

Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.

"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."

"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.

"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.

The spymaster didn't answer.

"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"

He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.

His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.

Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.

How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.

"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.

"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.

Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.

The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."

In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.

These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.

Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.

Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.

He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.

Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.

After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.

He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.

He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.

Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.

The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.

The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.

Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.

It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.

But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.

6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.

This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.

Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.

Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.

On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.

Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?

Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.

The Walking Dead

A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?

The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.

It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.

The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.

A spell.

He almost dropped the book at the realization.

No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.

He knew what he needed to do.

[peacheeeliz]

004. what the fuck am i chopped liver (wc: 653)

Mark sits on the steps outside of the library, picking at the skin around his fingernails. He waited as the sun dipped down below the horizon, and the mass of students slowly disappeared from campus. No matter how mad he was at Hyuck and Julie, he was still their ride home. After sitting there for not even ten minutes, he hears the front doors open behind him.

He hears the quiet sound of footsteps approaching him before Jiwoong sits down on the steps beside him. He rolls his eyes, turning away from the older man. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“You know, back when I was in high school, there was this classmate of mine that I found insanely cute,” Jiwoong starts, ignoring Mark’s question. He hears Mark groan but continues anyway. “I tried everything to get their attention, to get the chance to talk to them.”

“What, you didn't try to fake a study group for them?” Mark jokes, letting out a pained laugh. He rolls his eyes again, “because, I don't know if you know, but it works soooo well.”

Jiwoong lets out a light chuckle at his comment, shaking his head. “No, but I would definitely give you an A for effort,” he tells the younger man. “I actually stopped seeing them as some eye candy for me to, I don't know, seek after. I started seeking out true friendship with them.”

“And how did that work out?” Mark scoffs, crossing his arms. Despite how distracted he was listening to Jiwoong speak, he still heard the door behind them quietly opening again and the soft shuffle of a few pairs of feet.

“They're now one of my closest friends,” Jiwoong answers, finally meeting Mark's eyes. He sees them slowly soften as he looks behind the two of them, meeting your eyes as you and the rest of the study group join them on those steps. “And I wouldn't want it any other way.”

“But don't you ever wish that you two could be something more?” Mark questions, finally interested in Jiwoong’s short story.

Jiwoong smiles softly at him, patting his back before he stands up. “Why don’t we actually get some studying in? You know, since we still have the study room for a while.” He avoids Mark's question, joining the others as they scramble back inside. All except you.

He watches as you pull yourself forward, sitting down and joining him on the steps. He cracks a smile, leaning in to nudge your shoulder with his own. “So much for a study group, huh? You just can't resist me,” he teases, watching your eyes roll.

“I'm only out here because they weren't studying whatsoever,” you reply, avoiding his eyes. “They were just complaining about how hard it is to learn the language, but they're not actually taking time to learn it.”

“Excuses, excuses,” he continues, catching the way the corner of your lips turns upwards. “You don’t have to lie, you’re infatuated with me already.”

You burst out laughing at his words, and his cocky smile disappears as you struggle to regain composure. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re not into me,” he pauses, sending you a wink. “Yet.”

“In your dreams, lover boy,” you respond, shaking your head. Like Jiwoong, you softly pat his back. “Let's go and actually study. How does that sound?”

He stands up, reaching out his hand to help you back up. “Only if you're okay with just being friends,” he answers, leaning down to leave a gentle kiss against the back of your hand. “Jiwoong's orders.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile remains as you let go of his hand. “Think you're going to have a bigger problem with that than I am,” you throw back, leading him back into the library.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he says to himself, taking in a deep breath before he follows after you.

synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

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[python333]

what's a noise to an eardrum? — python³

― ― ― ―

synopsis you've been on a mission for a while, and instead of going back to your quarters after coming back, you head to ghost's.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters simon "ghost" riley.

word count 2.2k

warnings ghost's pov, 2nd person pov [you/your/yourself], sleep deprivation, bad cliches, bad writing, might be ooc

note hey gang!!! i think i got all the warnings since this is pretty lighthearted considering what i usually post, so enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!

Ghost was sitting at his desk―in his own sleeping quarters, since it’s technically past curfew and he doesn’t need any trouble from recruits about him being in his office after hours, the annoying little shits―typing away at his computer, trying to get a report on his latest assignment done before going to bed.

He’s had a little bit of trouble sleeping lately. Not to say that it’s your fault, but it’s definitely your fault. He doesn’t necessarily need you around to go to sleep, but since you volunteered for a mission a week ago, he’s been a little on edge. Originally, it would’ve been Soap and a few other sergeants heading out to a small town in some country down in Central America, but you took the place of Soap after Price had explained the mission. 

It could technically be done by one person, he’d said in short, but it’s quicker to send out a squadron than a single soldier.

You weren’t the best sniper they had, but you had enough experience with it for Price to approve of you going with one other person to keep watch of you. The long duration of the mission was really to be blamed on how often your target had been moving, leaving you with little room to take any shots. It wasn’t too important of a mission, however―as long as you didn’t miss your target in the end―so Ghost is sure Price is glad that he only had to send out one soldier instead of around six or seven.

Still, despite how there was little to no chance of you coming out of this mission in multiple pieces, Ghost found himself worried; something he, admittedly, feels for a lot of the soldiers here. His worry for you is different, though. Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it has something to do with how he’s seen you grow over the years that you’ve been here, and how close you’ve gotten to going from a Private to a Lance Corporal. It’s a relatively low rank for someone in the 141, which only makes him―dare he admit it―prouder. A weird feeling lingers in his mind when the word proud comes to mind as he thinks of you, but he ignores that feeling, instead opting to focus on the report he so desperately wanted to finish.

Despite his usual sleep aversion, he finds himself wanting to sleep for once.

Just as he gets to the middle of his report, he hears a knock at the door. Before Ghost can even say anything, he hears the door open, and his head whips around to see who would decide that it’s a good idea to enter his room without his permission. Though, all of his confusion and building anger dissipates the moment he sees that it’s you. Fresh from medical, he can safely assume, seeing the various bandages and bruises on you, and that odd too-clean smell that’s sticking to you. You look so exhausted, it’s almost funny. Almost. 

You close the door behind you and Ghost turns his head back to his laptop. It’s not that he doesn’t want to look at you, but it’s a little harder to when you look so disheveled. He hears a few footsteps, then the squeaking of bed springs, and a sigh before the rustling of bed sheets. In the faint reflection of his computer screen, Ghost can just barely see you getting comfortable under the covers of his bed, seeming to fully disregard his presence. He doesn’t mind, though. He gets it; that feeling after being on guard for so long, not sure how much of it you can let down even though you’re back on base, and that strange structureless feeling where you wish you had bones but only feel like flesh. 

It’s odd, put simply. When Ghost thinks of the feeling, he thinks of the age-old question, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound? The feeling is like a constant questioning of what you’re experiencing, the wonderance of whether or not you can feel safe if the safest you’ve ever felt is a feeling lost somewhere beyond you. If you lose a feeling, was it ever felt? If you lost safety, were you ever safe, or, as Maslow would put it, were you always missing that basic need? Ghost knows plenty about missing safety. He knows that his mind blanks when he tries to think about the last time he felt safe before the 141. 

He knows that you know plenty about missing safety, too. Not a lot, because you never say enough to clue him in on just how much you’re missing, but he has his suspicions. Some are confirmed, others mere theories, but still―he knows you well enough. That’s why you’re in his room, not saying a word, just breathing heavily into his pillow and trying to garner warmth from his blanket. He can see you staring at him from the bed. He’s sure you want him to say something, and because it’s you that’s looking at him, he does.

“Back already?” Ghost asks dryly, drawing a small huff out of you. 

“Soap said y’missed me,” you reply, making Ghost scoff, “when he visited me in the infirmary.” 

“Too big of a mouth on ‘im,” Ghost saves the draft of his report, deciding to just save writing it for another time, instead closing out of the program and hovering his finger over the power button on his keyboard, “don’t know how y’managed to understand him.” 

You hum and sit up in Ghost’s bed, the blankets rustling again, and as Ghost’s screen goes black, he turns around to see you sitting up with the blankets wrapped around you like a jacket. He blinks at you, before raising an eyebrow at your position.

“Ruinin’ my blankets?” he asks, though sounding barely offended, “After walking in unannounced besides that little knock?”

“Ruin’s a pretty strong word,” you argue, “and it wasn’t a little knock. It was loud. Practically echoed off the walls.”

Ghost can sense your sarcasm from a mile away, but continues to play along, leaning back in his chair. You look a little more tired covered in blankets, he thinks, those dark circles under your eyes are a little more pronounced. He sees them a lot. Those darkened semi-circles that he used to think were just a part of you, some kind of skin condition, but later realized they were a product of your sleep deprivation. It would’ve been his first thought had he not always seen you with the bags under your eyes, but after going on leave with you―a few months ago, back to his small house, after you had admitted that you preferred staying with him to going back to your dingy apartment―and witnessing you getting proper rest, seeing those circles get a little lighter, he knew that it was more of a sleep issue. 

He’s gone through his fair share of sleeping problems. He still goes through them; everyone in the military does, he’s sure. Ghost used to think that he took the brunt of it, compared to the rest of the task force, not because of the missions but because of what came before the missions. He’s changed his way of thinking since then, has opened up his mind a little more beyond the idea of suffering more than someone else in a specific sense, but he still had that feeling that he took on the majority of nightmares. The word “nightmare” feels a little juvenile for him, but until someone creates a better word for the repulsive things he sees after closing his eyes and just barely drifting asleep, that’s what he’s stuck with. 

“You better hope y’didn’t wake anyone up with it, then,” Ghost hums, “I doubt anyone wants to be awake right now.” 

He sees a small smile grow on your face and small spots of blood arise from beneath the cracked skin of your lips. 

“Everyone here sleeps like a rock as far as I know,” you reply, before pausing, considering, “maybe except for the guys who came in a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sure they’ll be gone by next month,” Ghost tells you, his tone almost reassuring, “I don’t think they can handle any of… this.” 

“You don’t think they can handle your bullying?” you scoff, making Ghost huff out a small laugh, “Weak.” 

“Not everyone’s as strong as you, unfortunately,” Ghost hums sarcastically, getting up from his chair and walking the short distance over to his bed where you’re sitting. Automatically, you move so that Ghost can sit down next to you.

You’re both silent for a little bit. Ghost can see the few healing bruises on your face a little clearer here. Small dark yellows and reds on the sharper points of your face, the parts where the bone is a little closer to the skin, particularly your cheeks and a few over your jawline and near your chin. They’re a bad look on you, not because Ghost doesn’t think you can handle yourself, but because he knows that you can handle yourself, so the only way you could’ve gotten those bruises is if you were forced into a corner. He would consider that they were an accident, somehow self-inflicted, but he knows better than that. 

“Are you tired?” Ghost asks, even though he knows the answer.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.” There it is.

“And for the few days that you did sleep?” He thinks he knows the answer to this too.

“I don’t know if you can really call it that.” Bingo.

It’s not surprising to him. Not only has he been on enough missions with you to know how hard it is for you to sleep outside of the base, but he’s managed to get you to actually tell him about your sleeping struggles. He knows. He watches you subtly kick off your boots, letting them fall over onto their sides, as if you could read his mind and know what he’s going to request next.

“Lay down,” Ghost puts a bare hand on your clothed shoulder and lightly pushes at it, prompting you to lean back onto your side, settling into the bed with the blankets still wrapped around you.

Ghost doesn’t mind the lack of blankets he’s getting. As long as you’re the one hogging them, he finds it easier to go without them, strangely enough. He lays down onto the bed next to you, his head naturally above yours, and neither of you bother to change positions. He doesn’t attempt to pull the blankets from you, and you don’t try to move away from him, the both of you simply existing together in one small space with nothing interrupting you two. A thin layer of air, similar to the blanket covering you, seems to cover the both of you, not trapping you together but instead comforting the both of you. The air feels woven from Ghost’s thoughts, yarn strewn from his cerebral cortex, emotions run through an invisible loom to create the beautiful quilt that covers the both of you. 

Ghost’s hand comes up to thumb at the edge of his balaclava, and he pulls it up the tiniest bit, but then pauses to think.

He knows that if you just turn your head up the tiniest bit, you’ll see his face. The blonde stubble peeking out from under his skin, the small dent forming in the middle of his nose from the constant wearing of his balaclava, and possibly the most embarrassing of all, that small smile he wears that pulls at his already cracking lips that draws blood on occasion. Despite all of this, he pulls his face covering all the way off, and tosses it onto his desk. Your face doesn’t move an inch despite how obvious it is that some kind of fabric has hit the desk. 

He considers saying thank you, but Ghost doesn’t deem it necessary. You’re so close to sleeping that he doesn’t want to risk ruining your chances by talking to you. So, instead, he just brings his arm over your side and lets his hand reach up into the nape of your neck to toy with the small hairs tapering off there. They’re short enough that he’s essentially just brushing his fingers against the skin of your neck, but he assumes you don’t mind, considering how you continue to not move. You stay still peacefully, soft breaths leaving you as your body starts to actually relax.

So you weren’t lying about your lack of sleep, he thinks, his own eyes slowly closing, not that I thought you were, anyway.

Your breathing creates the perfect white noise to him. The vibrations emitting from your larynx that escape your mouth reach his ear canals, where they bounce off of his eardrums, and move down from his middle ears to his inner ears where the nerve endings that live there turn the vibrations into electrical impulses and are translated by his brain into actual sound. The translation sounds like more than just a simple sound, though; it’s like your breathing is translated into actual words rather than breathing, words like safe and guarded. Those small vibrations bounce around in his ears and turn into syllables, then eventually whispers, then firm speech. 

Those words are like music to his ears, as cliché as it is, and he cherishes every word he hears―more than he’ll ever let you know.

[quinloki]

I mixed last night’s coffee with this morning’s coffee and now I’ve had too much coffee and I might need more water and I could drink more water and I did drink more water but I’m still too much coffee by volume

Which isn’t to say that I’m in a bad position, I’m just a little twitchy and my mind is firing on a bunch of different pistons, and it’s a shame that I have to work right now because I feel like I could write so much smut.

And some of that would be a one shot or two about March from Fields of Hot People, or Balor (summer hit in my game and he has a bitching scar on his chest and muscles on his arms and how dare he hide all that in his clothing choice in Spring), and I’m really enjoying that game and the ideas I have are too many and I’m only keeping them tucked away because I have too much one piece to write right now anyway xD

Gods though I wanna write Eustass Kid’s heavy cock between your breasts, hands held over your head, rutting against your chest and asking you where you’re gonna take him. It’ll fit, he promises you, anticipation dripping between your thighs. Beg him well enough and he’ll fill you up in every hole.

Marco pressing your face into the mattress, slowly pulling your pants down, talking about all the things he’s going to do to once you’re exposed, and how cute you look shivering beneath him, wriggling in desperate anticipation. Will you end up begging him to stop with the same desperation later on?

Sabo who has allowed you one foot on the floor, the other secured skyward, gloved hands gliding up your thighs, sharp and delicious against your ass as he leaves the perfect mark on your skin. The longer you can take it the more he’ll please you afterward. (And the idea of his slicked gloves moving down your chest to tease you as he pushes his cock in deep from behind and how he holds your head in place so he can praise you right into your ear.)

Sir crocodile who has you, ass up tied under his desk, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. Keep your voice in desert flower and don’t let any of his business partners hear you whimper as he eases that thick, leaky tip into you. No one else deserves to hear your sweet sounds and if you keep them in he promises to fill you to the hilt and rail you until either you or the desk breaks.

[shappobunny]

Stan Says Goodbye

I have never posted to tumblr someone pls tell me if it is abnormal to post a text this long.

Word count: 1764

____________________________________________________________

“Stanford, you can’t keep hiding away in that cabin forever. Ma’s memory is fading and she’s not going to be around for much longer. Don’t you want to say goodbye?” 

Shermie had left a million messages on the Shack’s phone. Each one a mirroring plea of the last call, begging Ford to come see their mother before she passed. 

But it was Stan listening to these messages, not Ford. He had no right to go see her.

The last time he had seen his ma, he had been hiding behind a curtain and a pillar at his own funeral. He nearly blew his cover when he saw her. Her hair was greying, and she was standing a little less tall than she used to, but it was her nonetheless. Those warm eyes that used to come down to level with him and the smile she would give him when she called him her special boy — all of that was the same. 

He didn’t think his mother would show up, not after ten years. He knew she had no way of knowing where he was, but he thought she felt the same way everyone else did. That he was the fuck-up of the family. The no-good son that ruined their one chance of having a better life. Who could think anything else? 

And now he had pushed her other son into a portal, forsaking him to some unknown world without knowing if he was alive or not. He couldn’t face her until he brought Ford back. 

He had to watch as she cried over his casket and it damn near killed him the way it broke his heart. 

But he had promised that day that he would bring Ford back soon and drag him along to ma’s house to show her that he was alive, and Ford was alive, and that they got along… Just like in the old days. They would sit in the kitchen and finally have tea with her — maybe even let her read their tea leaves once they were done. He would have saved Ford’s life and the family would gather again. For the first time in years, he wouldn’t be the fuck-up; he’d be his mother’s free-spirited Stanley. 

Things didn’t quite work out that way for Stan. As they usually didn’t. 

After 25 years he still hadn’t succeeded in bringing Ford back. After 25 years of sleepless nights and lonely desperation, he had nothing to offer to his ma in reconciliation. 

Now he was sitting on his couch pressing through message after message from Shermie begging him to come see her one last time. 

“Whaddya want me to do Shermie…” Stan muttered, folding forward to put his head in his hands. 

Did he want him to lie to his own mother on her deathbed? Or to tell her that her other son was most likely dead and gone somewhere they’d never even find his body? 

Stan wondered if Ford would have even gone to see her. The way he was the last time Stan had seen him, it was like the last thing Ford wanted was to see anybody. 

The phone rang again and Stan let it ring. The answering machine beeped and Shermie’s tinny voice came through the speaker. 

“Stanford I’ll be away from the city tomorrow to get a few things in order for ma’s funeral… You’ll get a break from my calls at least,” Shermie paused for a long while, and Stan thought that maybe that was the end of this call until he said, “She keeps saying your name, you know. Yours and Stanley’s… She‘s waiting for you,” he sighed. After a beat of silence, Stan heard the click of the phone hanging up. 

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

Stan watched the shadows of the pine trees dancing across his ceiling. What did his father used to say about the men in the Pines family? 

He closed his eyes and listened to the wind outside his window. He could almost hear the sound of gulls and the crashing waves of Glass Shard Beach. He could picture Ford, red from being sat in the sun all day scribbling away the plans for their boat. 

That Ford would want him to say goodbye to ma. 

In his memory, Ford smiled up at him as he ran over and they raced towards the waves, letting them pull out their little bodies to the water. 

Stan finally fell asleep.

The next morning he closed up the shop, and put on his cleanest suit. He wore Ford’s glasses, and found some six-fingered gloves lying around to slip on. Nothing fit quite right. The glasses were a little too loose, and Ford’s jacket was a little snug around the arms. 

Looking up in the mirror, he looked like his brother. 

When he got in the car he sat there for a long while. Not having the courage to turn on the ignition until the sun came at just the right angle to blind him. He finally began the car and started driving. 

What would he say to ma? What would Ford say? Probably something smart, and then he’d invent the machine that would save her life. 

That damn know-it-all, showing him up even in his own damn mind. If it weren’t for Ford trying to send him away 25 years ago, maybe they would have made up. Maybe they would have taken ma in when she started feeling unwell. 

Maybe Stan wouldn’t have to say goodbye to ma alone. 

Damn it. Was he crying? 

He wiped at his eyes with his sleeves, steeling his nerves so he could drive straight. 

He picked up some flowers at a shop down the street from the home she was in, and he checked into the home using Stanford’s name. Stan stood in front of her door for a long time, listening to see if anyone else was in the room. The silence was almost worse. He had no excuse to turn tail and run. He had to go in there and say goodbye to his mother. 

He knocked, a quick three raps. 

“Who is it?” His mother’s voice asked, as strong as ever. 

Stan smiled and opened the door. “It’s me ma, Stanford!” 

“Stanford?” She looked up at him from her spot on the bed, her eyes narrowed like she couldn’t see him quite right. “Sit down over here so I can get a good look atcha.” 

Stan set the flowers on her bedside and settled into the seat next to her. She was wrinkled and all grey now, but her brown eyes were still the same. 

“How have you been doing, ma? Shermie’s left me a million messages saying you’re on death’s door!” 

She smiled. “That Shermie can be even more of a nuisance than you are, Stanley.” 

Stan froze for a single second before smiling. “Ma you’ve got the wrong twin. It’s me, Stanford.” 

She reached a shaky hand to pat his. “Stanley you think I wouldn’t recognize my own boy?” She smiled. “You must think so little of your old ma.” 

He took a deep breath to compose himself. Her memory isn’t right, that’s what Shermie said. She’s just misremembering. 

“Ma Stan passed away twenty five years ago, remember?” 

It took everything in him not to choke on his words. 

“And Stanford didn’t show up at all?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t scam your old mother, Stanley, I taught you everything you know. Stanford would show up at your funeral. That boy isn’t as cold as he thinks he is.” 

He couldn’t answer. 

His mother pat his hand. “Oh, there, there, sweetie.” 

It took him a second to realize she was comforting him because his vision had begun to blur. He felt the damp trail of tears on his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. 

She tugged on his hand lightly so he would lean in, and he did. She put her arm around his shoulder as best as she could and gave him a weak squeeze. “Whatever fight you and Stanford have going on now, you’ll figure it out, sweetie. Ya always do...” 

Stan tried to stop himself from shaking so hard in his mother’s embrace but he knew he was failing. He held on a little tighter to his mother’s hand. 

“My sweet Stanley… You’ll figure it out.” 

“Ma what if he doesn’t come back?” Stan asked shakily. 

“Your brother is stubborn as a bull, he’ll come back just to prove you wrong.” 

Stan laughed at that and pulled away a little, to look into her eyes again. 

He missed her. So much. 

“Your breath is awful,” she said, grimacing. “Did I not teach you to brush your teeth?” 

Stan burst out laughing. “You don’t even have any teeth left, ma.” He didn’t want to tell her that he didn’t either.

“I’m on my death bed, what do I need teeth for?” 

A loud knock came at the door and Stan turned away, making sure to wipe his tears dry. He stood when the person entered. 

It was Shermie, holding a binder in one arm and a coat in another. 

“Stanford!” He said, his eyes widening in surprise. “You came.” 

Stan cleared his throat. 

“Uh… yeah, I couldn’t not come. It’s just been so… busy.” He tried to keep his voice low, hoping Shermie had forgotten what Ford sounded like at this point. 

“Well I’m glad you came,” Shermie looked over at their mother in her bed. “Aren’t you glad Stanford came by?” 

“Why would I be glad that this little brat ignored me for years just to say goodbye?” She asked gruffly. 

Shermie laughed. “Same as ever, ma.” 

Stan took the lighthearted mood as his means of escape. He began walking towards the door but took one last look back at his mother. 

She smiled warmly at him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He wanted to burn this image of her in his mind, sitting tall and confident, reassuring him that things might turn out after all. 

When he found Ford, he would tell him about her on this day. How she knew without hesitation, how she made all of his loneliness melt away, and how she gave him the hope to finally bring him back. He would tell Ford that she loved them both until the end, just as much as she did the day she brought them home. 

Ford would cry with him 

“I’ll be back, ma,” he said with a smile. 

She winked at him before saying, “Doncha dare come back!”

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, Oral Sex, more to be added.

Chapter Five

In an unfortunate turn of events Y/N was left alone inside the venue, she hadn’t humored the idea that seeing as Kirk was playing he would have to leave her alone to get things ready backstage. Nervously she sat at one of the rickety bar stools, it wobbled under her weight and she steadied herself quickly. “Jesus.” She mumbled to herself. “How is this place still standing?”

Her eyes scanned across the room. It was dingy, dimly lit. It smelt musty and damp, though that might have been the amount of bodies piling in. At the front of the room was an old stage, small and illuminated with stage lights. Decidedly she would never step foot in here alone. She slumped over at the bar, watching the stage curiously as the first band moved to set up. Really all she wanted was to see Kirk play.

In the back of her mind was a prodding feeling. He had acted so strangely earlier in the car, she had never seen him move so aggressively, the shine of that silver blade. A frown tugged at the corner of her lips as she thought about it. What could be so secretive about a knife? A family heirloom maybe? But why in the glovebox.

She was shook from her thoughts by the overwhelming sound of the strum of a guitar. Considering the place looked half abandoned the place had an impressive sound system. It commanded her attention so she turned to the stage once more. The name of the first band escaped her but she watched intrigued anyway.

The group of guys looked nervous even from here, a group of lanky teenagers whose instruments seemed too big for their bodies. But the way they played was anything but. Her senses were assaulted by the clanging of fast and aggressive music. Based on the way the crowd erupted with excitement she would say they were doing good.

It was too much, it rocked her bones, the vibrations in her body made her feel sick. She needed air, she needed to get out. The bar stool almost fell over as she pushed herself down onto the floor. Tucking her arms to her chest she pushed her way through the sea of people towards an illuminated exit sign. She sighed in relief, pushing her body against the door she stumbled out through a side entrance. Cool night air greeted her skin like a welcome embrace.

She leaned against the side of the building, her chest heaving as she drank in the air greedily. Like a weight had been lifted off her chest, her head tilted back as her breathing calmed down. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, she had been led out to a side alley, dimly lit by the distant streetlights from the parking lot. Taking a step forward she turned her head, good she could see Kirk’s car from here if she needed to leave suddenly. Though she desperately wanted to stay, to support him.

Turning her head the other way was looking towards pitch darkness. Distantly there was the sound of a steady drip. The faint scent of iron hung in the air. Her brows furrowed curiously as she took another step forward towards the darkness. Suddenly the hairs on her neck stood up, her skin tingling with the innate sense of danger. She needed to get back inside. Taking a step back from the encroaching darkness her back hit something hard, someone.

A scream ripped through her, attempting to spin around when a heavy hand held her in place, another coming up to cover her mouth muffling her panicked noises. Her eyes went wide, darting across trying to get a glimpse of the assailant behind her. Her body thrashed in the strong grip. This was it, the man she had seen in her backyard, the killer on the loose.

“Shit Y/N calm down.” Kirk’s voice hit her ears, his breath ghosting across her skin. Her body stiffened, the sound in her throat dying out. “It's just me, sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out.” His apology fell on her ringing ears as he slowly released his grip on her. Slowly she turned around, unable to believe it was really him.

But there he was, standing with a sweet sheepish grin, his eyes soft and worried. A sigh of relief rippled through her as she leaned forward pressing her head to his chest. Instinctively his arms came to wrap around her shoulders. “Fuck, Kirk what the hell is wrong with you, who grabs someone like that?” She complained, tilting her head to look up at him. “I thought I was about to get stabbed.”

He looked surprised by that, his hands rubbing along her arms comfortingly. “Ahh, jeez, sorry I thought it would be funny.” He winced. “I went to go say hi before we went on and couldn’t find you.” She took another step forward allowing herself to be enveloped by his comforting aura, her heart still pounding in her chest rapidly. “Why are you so jumpy though?”

It took a moment before her breathing evened out and she was able to form a response. “I don’t know I’m just, all the news lately has been eating away at me…” she groaned. “The other night too, there was someone in our backyard and I haven't been able to shake the feeling of being watched.” She confessed to him as she finally pried herself from his arms.

“In your backyard?” His eyes widened in concern. “Shit why wouldn’t you say something, I shouldn't have left you alone.” There was remorse in his voice. He pulled her back into a tight hug. “C'mon let's head back inside, I’ll sneak you into the back if it makes you feel better.” He guided her towards the door.

Y/N nodded slowly as she let herself be guided back inside, her eyes shifted once more down the alleyway before it disappeared, the scent of iron seemed stronger now, her eyes catching the gleam of a shimmering red trail pooling across the gravel. Then the door shut and she was enveloped once more by the hammering of music against her skull. Kirk guided her easily through the crowd towards another small door, he pushed her inside.

It led to a series of dimly lit hallways, the sounds from outside muffled just slightly, it was enough. It wasn’t empty by any means, groups of people sat gathered around fiddling with instruments. Her eyes caught a group of three men, she recognized them from her first day home in Kirk’s backyard. “Hey guys this is Y/N, she's gonna sit back here for the show she’s not doing too well for her first time.” Kirk pushed her gently into a chair beside them.

Their curious eyes landed on her. A tall blonde man was the first to greet her, a wide nervous smile and intimidating blue eyes. He introduced himself as James, then there was Lars, and Cliff. Kirk’s bandmates. Oddly enough she felt relaxed in their presence. “Sit tight babe, you can see us pretty good from here.” Kirk mumbled as he leaned down to press a soothing kiss to the top of her head.

There it was, that word again that sent a pain through her stomach. Babe, she liked hearing it from him, didn’t like the casual way in which he said it. It was impossible to determine the nature of their relationship, after hanging out for a few weeks she would consider themselves friends. But the way he kissed her in his room, the way he so easily gravitated towards physical affection with her. She wanted more.

Kirk was right, she had a not bad view of the stage from where she was sitting. She watched as the guys exchanged pleasantries with the band before them as they passed each other on the way up. She loved the way Kirk's fingers gripped his guitar, long and slender splayed out across the frets. She needed to see him play.

And see him play she did.. He was an entirely different beast with the guitar in his hand. Focused and skilled, even if it wasn't her favorite style of music it sent a pleasant thrum throughout her. His hands moved at insane speeds, the smile that crossed his face was almost angelic. That's where he was meant to be, on stage, it was the most in his element she had ever seen him. He was gorgeous.

She was left breathless by the end of the set, wide eyed and shaky. She could hardly comprehend that it was already over. A deep sense of disappointment filled her as the lights dimmed and Kirk approached her from the stage. “Is it over already?” She asked breathlessly, standing up to greet him. Her fingers itched to grab him, her body felt like it was on fire.

His laugh filled the air. “Was it good?” He asked her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She could feel the sheen of sweat on his skin through her shirt but she didn’t care. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she looked up at him. She nodded slowly.

“More than good, that was incredible holy shit.” She praised him enthusiastically. “Since when did my nerdy next door neighbor become such a god?” Kirk’s chest puffed up a bit at her words, his grip around her shoulder tightening. She hardly registered the speed in which he was tugging her out of the venue, across the parking lot to his car.

There was a sense of urgency in him as spun her around, pressing her to the side of his car. His hands heavy on her shoulders. “Can I kiss you again.” He asked like a desperate plea, stepping forward between her legs as he towered over her. “Please.” Y/N nodded quickly, her hands coming up to tangle in his slightly damp hair. Their lips pressed together hungrily, an aggressive clashing of teeth and tongues.

It was wet and sloppy as she moaned into his mouth. His hands were warm against her chilled skin as they traced up her stomach beneath her shirt. His knee rocked between her legs, a heavy pressure against her core that had her nails digging into his scalp. Her hips rolled down against him as she gasped against his lips.

A loud wolf whistle broke them apart. A group of drunks across the parking lot hollering at the show they were putting on. “Fuck, not here Kirk.” Y/N pushed him away gently, shivering at the growl that left his lips, the way his hands gripped tighter onto her before letting go. There was something possessive in the way he loomed over her. “Take me home.”

That seemed to satiate his hunger, the promise of something more in private. The two of them climbed into his car eagerly. His hand found itself a spot on her inner thigh, his fingers digging into the fabric of her jeans. He massaged her roughly as he peeled out of the parking lot, racing down the dead streets with one hand clutching the steering wheel. She squealed in a mixture of surprise and excitement.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me Y/N.” Kirk choked out, his eyes darting to her’s quickly. “I want to destroy you.” The words were harsh and biting. It sent a heat of arousal through her, the space between her thighs dampened and she pressed her legs together, squeezing down on Kirk's hand. Instead of pulling down their street Kirk went a street over, half-hazardly parking in an empty lot. Y/N looked up at him confused. “I can't wait, get in the back.”

Looking between him and the back sweat of Kirk's car, Y/N hesitated for a moment. Her eyes dropped down to his jeans, watching the strain of the fabric around his growing hard on. She swallowed hard and nodded, quickly climbing over the center console into the back seat. Kirk's hand rested on her ass as he guided her back before joining her. “I don’t want to fuck in the back of your car like horny teenagers.” She gasped out, settling down on her knees between his legs as he leaned back in the seats.

He looked down on her with an amused smile, the sight of his pointed crooked teeth making her skin tingle pleasantly. “That’s fine, just please touch me.” He groaned, his fingers popped open the button on his jeans, pulling the zipper down over the growing bulge. Her stomach dropped at the sight, his cock pushed up against the flimsy fabric of his underwear and her mouth went dry.

She was about to blow him. Kirk, her next door neighbor, her childhood crush, her current crush. She watched with wide eyes as he reached below his waistband, his hand wrapping around the base of his length and tugging it out. The head was swollen to a pretty deep red color, leaking already at the tip. Her fingers dug into his thighs in anticipation. The desperation in his eyes had her leaning forward, wrapping her lips around the skin.

His body shuddered beneath her with a shaky groan. “Oh,fuck.” He gasped. Kirk's hands came up to head, dragging his fingers through her hair as he pulled it back out of the way for her. Giving him a better look of her face as she hollowed out her cheeks and sunk down further across the girth. Y/N’s nose nestled into the patch of hair at the base of his cock as she fully swallowed him. “Jesus christ Y/N.”

His cock twitched across her tongue. The weight was pleasant in her mouth and she hummed gently, smiling at the way his body rolled up at the vibrations. He tasted a lot like sweat, she supposed that was to be expected after he played a show, but beneath it was the sweet scent of tobacco that seemed to linger on his skin. Slowly she pulled back, pressing her tongue to the head playfully as her hand gripped the rest of him.

She worked in tandem with the strokes of her hand, sucking on the head and twirling her tongue across the slit. The desperate whiny moans spilling from Kirk's lips were enough to spur her on further. He sounded so sweet coming undone beneath her, she wanted to bask in it forever. She traced her tongue along the underside, working from his balls up and back down again. His nails scraped against her skin.

“Y/N, fuck can I.” He groaned, his body curling up as she took all of him in again in one swift movement. His hands clutched at the side of her head as he jerked forward. “F-fuck so good.” He rasped out. “Can I come in your mouth?” He asked sweetly, and how could she deny it?

Her response was to quicken her movements. The car filled with the wet sounds of her swallowing around him and the occasional gag as he hit the back of her throat. She could feel him shaking beneath her, words escaping him as he was left panting. He twitched in her mouth and she pulled back, opening her mouth as he came undone. Hot thick ropes of his release coated her tongue, some of it missing her mouth and spreading across her cheeks.

Kirk looked down at her with wide eyes, pupils blown and fucked out as he watched himself finish across her face. “F-fuck.” He heaved out. His hands held her head steady as the last of his cum dribbled across her lips. His cock twitched gently as she let go of it. Her mouth closed as she swallowed. The warmth and saltiness of it had her shuddering lightly. Her hands came up to wipe across the skin where he had spilled out, gathering it on her fingers before bringing it back down to her lips. She wiped her hand clean as she smiled up at him.

“I hope that was okay?” She asked him, tucking his softening dick back into the constraints of his underwear. “I’m not really one for casual sex.” She mumbled as she crawled beside him onto the seat, her knees were screaming at her for the awkward position she had been in.

Nodding, Kirk pulled her into another kiss, softer this time, filled with an appreciative tenderness. “Really fucking good, god thank you.” He sighed against her, tasting himself on her tongue he moaned. “You’re something else Y/N.” His fingers rubbed across her cheek slowly, pressing their foreheads together as he looked deep into her twinkling eyes. “Let me take you home now.”

Kirk pulled into his driveway. Making his way to open the door for Y/N once more. He held her hand tightly as they crossed the lawn to her front door. It was only a couple feet away but the gesture of him walking her to her door had her heart fluttering. “We're going to hang out more right?” She asked hopefully as she spun her body to face him, her hand hovering above the door knob.

“Of course, you didn’t think this was a one time deal did you?” He asked her with a smile and shake of his head. “I’m not a dick.” He teased her as he leaned down to kiss her softly. “Go to bed.” He ushered her inside. The last thing she saw before locking the door was his grinning face. When she settled into bed that night she felt warm, content, and safe.

It was all ripped away from her the next morning as she settled at the kitchen table. The static of the radio filled the room. “Another body was found just last night, outside The Exchange, a local metal bar downtown.” the reporter's voice snapped Y/N from her tired haze. “A young woman was found disemboweled and partially decapitated in the alley beside the bar, likely happening during the show that occurred there last night, if any members of the community have any information please step forward.”

The color drained from Y/N’s face, her skin clammy as she dropped the spoon in her hand to the table. Her eyes were unfocused. Outside the bar, the alleyway, last night. The impending sense of doom she had felt, the strong smell of iron and the brief sight of something red. Her stomach lurched and she gagged. “Y/N? Oh god isn’t that where you went last night?” Her mother asked in a panic, her hands coming to rub her back soothingly as she dry heaved at the thought.

“It is.”

[hephaestuscrew]

I posted recently about how, when Minkowski tries to send Eiffel back to Earth on the Sol in the finale, she doesn't directly express her more personal emotional reasons for this decision (see this post for more detail). But the contrast to that is how Eiffel only gives personal reasons when pleading against her decision.

As he's desperately telling Minkowski not to send him back, Eiffel doesn't say that he wants to help fight against Cutter's plan (although I'm sure it's on his mind). He doesn't try to convince her that he can make an important contribution to that fight. He doesn't attempt to argue the importance of having as many people as possible trying to stop Pryce and Cutter.

Instead, he protests "Not without you!" when she says that he's going home. He tells her "I'm not leaving you behind!" In contrast to Minkowski saying that she wants "one of us... someone" to make it back, Eiffel doesn't shy away from addressing Minkowski directly. He says "you". It's not that he doesn't want to leave the Hephaestus or the crew behind in a vague general way; he makes it clear that he doesn't want to specifically leave Minkowski behind. His attempts to persuade Minkowski not to send him back are largely focused on his bond with her and his unwillingness to return to Earth without her (and the rest of the Hephaestus crew). Those are the most compelling reasons to him.

The only other argument he gives in trying to persuade Minkowski not to send him back is "you can't - you have no right!" This is less about his bond with Minkowski, and more about his own individual agency and his objection to Minkowski making this decision for him. But it's still ultimately a personal reason. None of Eiffel's voiced objections are about the big picture at all (unlike the explanation Minkowski gives to Hera, Lovelace and Jacobi afterwards for why she sent Eiffel back).

In that scene, both of them are acting from a personal emotional place of care for each other as individuals. But in terms of what they actually say, Eiffel expresses this kind of motivation much more directly than Minkowski. He admits to the specificity of it in a way Minkowski doesn't know how to. Eiffel appeals to Minkowski's personal individual motivations, which she hasn't really admitted to. His final plea is to call Minkowski by her first name for the first time.

[basuralindo]

Hey do you think Jamil has trouble seeing people his age as peers?

Like, growing up having to be a caretaker to a guy literally a few months older than him, always expected to act like the adult in the situation, expected to work with adults and adopt their perspectives and pick up their slack. Do you think he just, forgets sometimes?

I mean we've seen him go into caretaker mode with other sophomores, and the only people I've seen him take seriously are juniors like Vil who also act much older than they should have to (his reactions to Leona look more like a trauma response and I don't wanna get into it here). People like Malleus and Cater still somewhat get the caretaker treatment. Like I just highly doubt that he subconsciously realizes he's actually part of his age group

Aaand that inevitably brings up Azul, who also acts like he thinks he's older than he is. Whether you're looking at it from a shipping angle or not, he reacts to Azul like an actual peer. With older students, he seems more in his element but there's still a status hierarchy which he compulsively reacts to. With Azul he doesn't acknowledge any status worth respecting or see him as someone who needs to be looked after. He just bickers like an equal, in a way that implies he actually does see Azul as a real peer, like subconsciously he's categorized this guy into the same group as himself, who was previously alone on that level (he gets like this more with the twins too, over time, but it seems to start with Azul).

And my favorite part about this is, while that response stems from them both acting more like adults in general, they elicit a pettiness from each other which drags them both down to actually acting their own age, and I just love that. Their characters are perfect foils for each other and it seems to make them both less isolated in a way.

[ahmed0khalil]

Hello, among the hundreds of tragic stories, I am sharing my painful story.

My name is Ahmed Khalil, I am 6 years old. I was at the beginning of my education, trying to learn, participate, and play with other children. My family consists of 8 members, including my mother and father. My father has diabetes, my brother Fathi is blind, my other brother Abdullah has autism, and my brother Mohammed was injured in his leg by shrapnel from rockets.

On October 7, 2023, the war began and has not stopped since. The airstrikes and Israeli shelling caused fear for me and my family. We could not endure the massive explosions that felt like recurring earthquakes and the red flames sweeping through the area. We were forced to flee to southern Gaza based on orders from the Israeli forces, leaving our beautiful apartments behind. We went to a UN refugee school in Deir al-Balah to escape the terror and death.

We stumbled into a different life full of suffering from every side, living through the most painful hell of war. I developed malnutrition due to contaminated water, poor hygiene, and the spread of infectious diseases with no suitable medicine available.

The situation is catastrophic and unbearable. “There is only death left in Gaza. Even death has become a privilege because it provides a sense of relief.” My older brother Mohammed and I begged our father to leave Gaza, but it was extremely difficult due to the high costs. My father lost all his property during the war, including his electronics repair center and apartment, which were completely destroyed, so he has nothing to help us travel out of Gaza. There is no safe place in the Gaza Strip.

I pray every moment for the end of this war and a ceasefire. The ceasefire is not just a call; it is a desperate cry to end the helplessness and despair spreading to every corner after more than 11 months of war. We flee from death every day, only to wake up the next morning to try to escape it again. My heart is heavy, unable to bear the recurring nightmares, and the overwhelming flood of news about blood, displacement, loss, and despair pouring from Gaza.

Every minute feels like a struggle. No one should have to endure this injustice, segregation, and discrimination. The ongoing shelling in southern Gaza and the intense bombardment of residential buildings in Deir al-Balah make everyone feel unsafe, believing they might be the next to face tragedy. Communications are cut off. We are exhausted and cannot bear more tragedies and losses. We are currently living in a classroom of the UN center, which is crowded with people, including my relatives and cousins. My poor father sees our pale faces and weak bodies and stands helpless due to the lack of money and resources.

I am still six years old, and I never thought I would witness such a brutal attack with complete disregard for human values. I am deprived of my basic rights, including health and education. I need to rebuild my life with my family abroad and receive better healthcare. Traveling to Egypt would cost at least $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child, which is an enormous amount given the harsh living conditions and the blockade that has lasted for 17 years.

Therefore, I ask you to donate so that we can evacuate Gaza to safety. Please continue supporting our campaign by donating if you can and sharing it with your friends and family. Every contribution, no matter how small, helps us get closer to our next goal and brings us nearer to securing a safer future for my family.

[tonycries]

Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.” 

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Weird. 

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.” 

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 

This was absolute torture. 

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”

Oh. 

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it. 

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster. 

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0 

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won. 

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right? 

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[amaranthinespirit]

size difference with könig and virgin!reader

he knew it was going to hurt; any man the size of him would reflect that under his belt. any woman, no matter the body count, would be in for it during a night with a brute like him.

but when you came along, doe-eyed and so much smaller than him, something stirred on the bottom of his abdomen. behind the zipper of his jeans, his cock chubbed up at first glance.

he was already huge enough to see the outline of his bulge through his jeans, or whatever cargos, he wore, but his growing erection made it that much more obvious.

he had never been one to notice before, but with you, he couldn't help it. the way he dwarfed you as you stood by his side, your (much) smaller hand completely engulfed by his giant one.

despite the size difference, he was gentle—as gentle as he could be. a brute as big as him with a tiny doll like you—like porcelain, you were going to break. and he was going to be the one to break you.

he ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip collecting your slick along his cock. a whimper, or mewl, escaping your throat whenever he grazes your clit. his breathing is heavy, muttered curses and phrases in german under his breath.

"so eine hübsche muschi, nur für mich..." his voice is hushed and low, as if he's talking to himself about how heavenly your puffy lips are against his girthy cock.

he keeps a large hand around the base of his girthy dick, the other planted on the bed, just above your hip as he steadies himself. the bed is dipping heavily with the focused weight.

he finds himself growing impossibly harder at the sounds of your strained squeaks, watching the sweat bead down the side of your face before his eyes find where his cock lays heavy against your sopping cunt.

your thighs slick with arousal and previous climaxes as he had worked you open on his tongue and fingers, his skin glistening under the light. your juices painted his chin, his fingers pruned from being buried deep in your sensitive pussy, desperately swallowed by your spongy walls.

he hummed lowly, almost a groan as his hand around his girthy base slapped his cock against your slick labia, the head of his cock beating against your swollen, hypersensitive clit he'd been toying with all night.

"diese muschi gehört mir, nicht wahr? hmm...?" you knew not what he said, but his tone was smug, cocky as he gave your cunt a few more slaps with his dick, humping his length between your folds.

you were squirming under him, not even fucked by his huge cock yet, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation, teetering along the lines of being too much. but it was just right.

his hand propped on the bed found your waist, stilling you as his hips halted, dragging his tip down your pussy to your leaking slit. evidence of previous orgasms spilled from your hole, "shhh, sei still, mein schatz..." he cooed, a callouses thumb tracing along the soft, supple skin of your waist before digging his fingers into your flesh.

he needed self control as he lined his cock with your hole, teasing along the folds before beginning to split you in half. whimpers falling from your lips at the mere task of just fitting the tip past your entrance.

he groaned loudly at the way your pussy welcomed him, swallowing his bulbous head with a squelch and a tight pulse as he stretched you open. the previous rounds of his finger and tongue doing nothing to aid the sheer stretch of your cunt around his dick.

it hurt like hell as he inched his cock deeper, reveling in the way your face contorted, strangled cries leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes. your face flushing pink as salty trails glistened down your heated cheeks.

it was like you were practically impaling yourself on his thick, meaty cock. your body being split down the middle to accommodate for such space he took up in your cunt, your spongy walls clamping tightly around his dick.

"Scheiße, schatz...du bist so eng..." he cursed, his hand around his girth retracting to his hip.

he watched as his cock sunk deeper past your puffy lips, the way your pussy swallowed him with a sickening, lewd squelch that made his eyes flutter shut. his hips bucked, followed by curses as he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips. speeding up to a comfortable pace.

the skin of your backside quickly flushed red as his pace became more and more relentless—he had told you before he wasn't good with virgins. you assured him you could handle it, and he promised he would try to be gentle. key word, try.

well, he had tried, and failed as his hips desperately rut into your heavenly, slick pussy with lewd sounds of your skin coming together rapidly. his full, heavy balls slapping against your backside with each time his hips pounded into your cunt.

he was a lost cause, muttering incoherent phrases of half-german, half-english. most of what you could pick out was praises to your pussy, how you were made to fit his cock in your tight hole—though you were too cock-drunk, babbling nonsense into moans under him to hear a word he said.

"verdammt, deine muschi ist der himmel, kleines mäuschen..." he praised in a coo, his body now leaning to cover yours, his heavy weight pressing your back further into the mattress, "so verdammt eng und nass..."

his hand on your waist slid down to your stomach, he swore he could feel the skin warp under his calloused prints as his bulbous tip slammed your cervix.

when his eyes finally left where your two body conjoined, up to your pretty face where tears streamed down your cheeks, disheveled hair splayed across the pillow behind your head and matted to your forehead. his eyes fluttered shut as his dick twitched and throbbed against your spongy walls.

your pained cries turned to whimpers and hiccuped moans, hands clawing at his back to pull him impossibly closer in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper.

it wasn't long until you felt another warmth building in your lower abdomen, familiar in feel to the previous, but so much more hammering as it built, and built, and built.

könig could feel how you sunk your nails into his back, as if you feared he would deny you the ecstasy of release. he felt the way your cunt clamped around him, pulsing in sync with your heartbeat—his too.

his hips faltered—he had never finished this quick, but then again, your pussy was like a fucking drug, and he was an addict.

"das ist es...that's it, mauschen..." he whispered breatlhessly into your ear, his heavy, warm breath against your skin as he waited for your release to boil over with his.

he moaned loudly against your sweat, sticky skin, uttering more praises under his breath as he felt his cock twitch. he watched the way your jaw went slack, how your body shuddered under him before going limp, boneless under his weight.

a shuddered breath slipped past his lips as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls a creamy, thick white as he filled you. his eyes fell back to your pussy, watching as he's milked dry of every last bit of his pearly, white cum.

he rubbed a rough thumb over your clit, watching you flinch and squirm from the sensitivity as he kept an eye on how his gooey release oozed from your hole, despite the fact his cock was still plugged inside of you.

he hummed lowly in appreciation as he took two fingers to spread the thick substance to coat your folds.

fuck, maus, you were ruined for anyone else now, guess you're stuck with him.

[sttoru]

#𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: “show me you’re shameless, write it on my neck, why don’t ya?”

cw. married!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, angst to comfort. cheating/infidelity. unprotected. crēampie. bréeding themes. soft angsty-ish sèx. petnames ‘baby, sweetheart, wifey’ not proofread !

satoru has never loved the woman he married. he’s never felt an ounce of attraction or affection towards her. it’s hard to be around someone who he’s supposed to love and cherish, when all he can think about is you.

it’s you he was supposed to end up with if it wasn’t for his damned clan. setting up an arranged marriage behind his back and only telling him last minute of their plans— a bunch of assholes they are.

satoru could’ve declined, disagreed, ran away. he had all the power to, but he had fully convinced himself that his actual soulmate - you - would never return his love, which is why he settled.

. . . he was proven wrong after it was already too late.

“i love you s’much,” satoru grits his teeth as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his sweat trickling down his forehead. his hips move in a gentle rhythm, as tender as his arms are holding you. he never treated you roughly.

satoru wouldn’t do that to the love of his life. the one who he’s supposed to call his wife, his beloved. he’ll find a way to achieve his dreams. he’ll do anything to end up with you and escape this messed up arrangement.

but for now, he’ll love you like this. every day, behind the other woman’s back, for as long as he can.

“i love you too, ‘toru,” you sigh, tilting your head to give the white-haired man access to your neck. his tongue wets your sensitive skin before sucking on it. he’s claiming you as his— like he usually does whenever he manages to get ahold of you.

“say that again,” satoru whimpers against your throat whilst leaving soft kisses all over. the sounds of your bodies meeting bounces off the walls, the lewd noise of flesh hitting flesh is a melody that you both enjoy behind closed doors.

“please,” satoru pleads. you’re surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. he holds onto you - ruts into you - like he’s never experienced this before. his cock twitches and throbs within you, desperate to reach that aching release.

you swallow the lump in your throat. you feel bad doing this right on the bed that satoru shares with his wife, but you also couldn’t care less. “i love you, satoru, i really do,” you moan near his ear.

the sorcerer shivers at your pretty voice uttering those three words to him. his big hands hold onto your waist, fingers digging into your skin, leaving small dents. his breath hitches, “oh, fuck. y’do, huh?”

satoru curses as he lifts his head from your neck. the view of you beneath him while you take his dick all the way inside your sopping cunt is addicting. it’s also way too slippery because of the mixture of cum on your lower body and the sheets.

“ah,” you look down at the place your bodies meet the second you feel his cock slip out of your pussy. you reach a hand down and guide his tip back to your folds without much thought.

it’s a sight that makes satoru nearly bust a nut right then and there. “missin’ me already?” he tilts his head, that boyish smile on his lips reappearing again. his soaked, white bangs cover his ethereal eyes a little, yet you can still notice the playfulness in them.

“yeah, i do,” you sigh, whining a little as his cock slowly fills you up all the way again, “i always miss you, ‘toru.” you never fail to feel so full whenever you’re intimate with him— he’s big and knows just how to use that to his advantage.

satoru pouts at your words. he knows what you’re indirectly referring to amidst all the physical pleasure. he tries to make as much time for you as he can, without raising suspicion. though sometimes he fails to see you for days. balancing his work schedule, along with his many other duties and his private life was a hassle.

it’s frustrating when satoru is leading a double life, for both you and him. there’s nothing more in this world that he wants than to have you beside him forever. as his wife, not his secret lover.

one day, soon— he promises silently to himself and to you with a kiss.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, his thrusts resuming. two of his rough fingers roll your nipple between them, his tongue following to circle the sensitive bud while he drives his dick in and out of you repeatedly. “but i’m all yours tonight, yeah? only yours.”

you nod mindlessly. you trust satoru, he’ll figure this all out. for now, you’ll enjoy every single second you’re able to spend with him.

“mhm,” you hum before your eyes focus on his neck. you know he’s told you not to leave any marks on him, but tonight, you’re feeling shameless. your hand on the back of his head pushes him down until your lips touch his neck.

satoru’s eyes widen at your unexpected action. he can’t deny you anything, even if this is a risky thing to do. he moans when you suck and bite on his skin. you’re leaving hickeys he will have to hide from his wife.

“naughty fuckin’ girl,” he tries to groan, though it comes out as a choked up whimper instead. he bites his lip and his eyes nearly roll back when your legs wrap around his waist, all whilst you’re leaving those dark marks on his neck.

you softly giggle at your own bold move. satoru however, seems to enjoy this more than he thought he would. he allows you access to his neck while he focuses on his set pace.

“y’ just want me to get caught, hm?” the white-haired man clicks his tongue, his balls slapping against your ass, your juices sticking to his skin which makes the sounds of his thrusts even louder. lewder. satoru huffs, “want that woman to know jus’ how well i fuck you, sweetheart?”

you feel your body heat up, the knot in your lower tummy tightening. his increased dirty talk only could mean one thing; he’s close. and so are you. the pleasure of having satoru inches deep in your cunt after not seeing him for two whole days, is driving you insane.

“yes, fuck— yes,” you hiccup, feeling absolutely no shame at this moment. you don’t care how loud you’re getting, if satoru’s neighbours were to hear him have sex with a woman that’s not his wife.

the man himself doesn’t even seem to mind it either. not when he’s this close. he pants before pressing soft kisses against your forehead. the lingering feeling of your lips against his neck remind him of the hickeys you’ve left.

satoru moans against your hot skin. his dick twitches, his balls tighten and his arms wrap around you to cradle you against his bare chest. he’s going to fill you with his hot cum like you deserve. you deserve every single drop and he wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you.

“shit, g’nna cum,” satoru warns after a small whine leaves his throat, “take it, baby. don’t waste a drop, wanna breed you full.” his thrusts turn a bit erratic, body pinning yours to the mattress so you have nowhere to run. all you can do is lay there and take it— take his cum while you reach your own climax.

white dots appear in his vision as satoru releases rope after rope of hot, sticky cum inside of you. his hips are pressed tightly against yours— leaving no chance for his seed to trickle out of you.

the satisfaction that fills satoru’s chest is like no other. a small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans his body weight on top of you slightly, catching his breath. your trembling frame rests beneath him while you’re trying to regain composure as well.

“there y’ go, atta girl,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead. he treats you so well, even after sex. he treats you like you’re his true wife. which you should be.

he rubs your sides with his hands to calm you down. his own breath is still shake as he looks down at you with a grin. a wicked idea pops up in his head once he sees the thick trail of cum that’s left on your slit after he pulls out.

“y’know how i told ya that i’ll make y’ my wife one day?” satoru hums, eyes focused on both your face and cum-covered pussy. he has told you before that he will find a way to officially make you his.

and he finally just realised the perfect way to do it.

“mhm,” you nod with a dazed look in your eyes. you wrap your arms around satoru’s shoulders and hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as his breath ghosts over your ear.

his hand travels down to your tummy, fingers splayed over the soft flesh; “good, ‘cause y’re gonna need to play the part for me already. gonna fill you up ‘til you’re nice and swollen with my kids, wifey.”

[sexbot300]

‧˚₊•୨୧ Ya know, just crushing on your friends older dad (toji pls corrupt me) quick messy drabble of his fine ass

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

It just started off as tiny thoughts… Broad ass shoulders, thick thighs, huge arms that can put you in a chokehold… You can go ON. You couldn’t even bring yourself to admit the way this man could absolutely degrade you and you would smile in the entirety of it.

‘Sleepovers are so fun’ another one of your thoughts. Not only do you get to stay over with your friends but there is eye candy to admire every once in a while. You just so happened to be wearing your shortest black spandex shorts that accentuate every curvature of your ass and a cream-colored cropped tank top that spills out half of your cleavage. I mean! What if it gets stuffy and sickly hot when you sleep? Completely innocent!!

This leaves you in a predicament. Megumi asked of you to get a snack downstairs, but poor you! Too short to reach the top cabinet :(

You huff and puff while standing on your tippy toes, sleek cabinet opened, one hand gripped at the edge of the granite countertop for support. Your other arm outstretched, nails lightly grazing the colorful box of candy your dear friend wanted. With every muscular push from your calf muscles, you bounce a little and recoil the exposed parts of your body.

Sneakily, unaware, a presence loomed behind you, enjoying the pathetic little effort of what you decided to call “clothes.”

A musky scent engulfed your senses as a chiseled body pressed up against you. Before you had time to process what was going on, the body proceeded to press slightly more against you, adding on pressure. Your hand that was once extended to grab the box, soon had a veiny, stronger, and massive hand gripping onto your wrist.

What you can make out to be a pelvis, pressed against the own fat of your ass, paired with another hand clutching the indent of your waist aided in lifting you up. Soon your feet were completely off the ground and you couldn’t help but feel something, hard, press against you. You quickly understood that this was him offering a helping hand, as the thicker hand stretched your own to grab the box. By the grace of God, you managed to grip the object that got you in this dilemma without dropping it.

“There you go, you got it.” A rumbling occurred against your back as his chest released the deep voice that almost felt taunting. The voice that spoke was smooth, laced with a grin.

Slowly looking up you realized he hasn’t dropped you yet. Ass still pressed against his dick, feet in the air. Did he notice your light blush scattered across your face? No, play innocent. Staring, you found his emerald eyes that showed every hint of amusement, his scarred lip that curved up a bit and his raven hair that fell across his face. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to die right then and there or leave every bit of dignity behind. He looked down at you like prey, you decided to play in.

“See? Wasn’t so bad.” He spoke in a silky voice, never losing his smirk. You only gave him a look of pure innocence; brows furrowed, rosy lips puckered out, and big doe-like eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Fushiguro. I really appreciate it.” His cock twitched. “But, can you please put me down now?” Lacing every word you say with the most saccharine voice you can muster.

His face only softened up. “Of course.” As he let go of the tight embrace on your wrist, he still held a firm position of his pelvis against your ass. Your toes slowly touched the ground but clumsy you, you dropped the box onto the counter! Still maintaining eye contact with the man that looked like he wanted to dig his teeth into you, you let out a tiny, “oops!”

Proceeding to fully touch the ground you quickly look down onto the countertop to grab the contents. But oh, no, no, no. You just had to be a brat. Slowly arching over, you wiggled your ass against the older mans hard on. Eliciting friction to your cunt that needs to be touched so desperately wasn’t the smartest idea. But the other man found himself even further amused by this, his clothed dick loosely making out the indents of your folds. You finally grabbed the box you ‘dropped.’

You blinked looking at him, feigning innocence while his grin deepened. “I can go now Mr. Fushiguro.” Quickly, he slender fingers dug into your hip bones making you pathetically let out a gasp. Forcing your ass almost impossibly close against his dick, even with the barrier of clothes. He slowly, rocked himself up and down, creating lewd noises you choke back.

“Go ahead… give it to them upstairs. I can then accidentally “drop” your panties on the ground as well.”

You blankly stared, mouth agape suppressing any noise, while he still rocked you back and forth on him. “What’s with the blank mind now princess? We’re still playing fair aren’t we? It’s about time you got dick from the man you practically eye fuck.”

He let out a chuckle, “Sick girl. Don’t worry. You won’t need to dress like a slut in my house any further. I’ll take real good care of you, if you can just shut up and take it.”

You pulled your bottom lip in slightly sucking it, testing your luck, knowing that this day will finally come. “Okay, Daddy.”

An even wider grin appeared on his face, “Looks like you came already trained for me? Good girl. Hope that little cunt of yours can take the abuse your mouth should be getting instead. Go, now.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly jumped out of his embrace throwing the candy at Megumi, Nobara, and Itadori leaving them in a confused state. Muttering some excuse of having to need to use the restroom… for the rest of the night oddly.

:(((( poor little cunt, couldn’t sit down properly for days straight. He made sure to ruin your hole so no one else got to :(

[tojisun]

!! nsfw; poly 141 ; sexting; fem reader

price gets a video, a measly six-second thing, from ghost.

he's used to getting all sorts of messages from his lieutenant, but a video has never been a part of them.

it was always soap who sends them videos upon videos—saved videos of things that make him lose his shit or links that are his new turn-ons. price even gets personal messages from the fella; sometimes it's his sergeant venting in lilted scottish, sent to price's personal number on a drunken whim, and sometimes they're videos of him pleading.

"sir, please... wanna cum."

kyle is still getting used to the dynamic. he's still a little shy, hesitant, although he seemed to be getting more bold in text. more pushy. descriptive.

then there's ghost. he is a whole different beast from the other two because instead of begging, instead of putting price above his own pleasure, he backs the captain into a corner, pushing him close to the edge with little taunts and teases.

price remembers the first time ghost has done it. he sent the captain a picture of a lacey panties hanging off of ghost's jean pockets, the rouge of the soft material drawing price's eyes to the distinct tent in his lieutenant's pants, leaving his throat dry. he remembers fisting his own cock at the image, mind running because of ghost's anecdote—

"you would like her."

john had never cum so fast when masturbating, and yet there he was, twitching on his office chair, chest heaving as ragged rasps of breaths passed through his clenched teeth.

"your girlfriend's got a good taste," price had messaged back.

"and me?" was what ghost replied with.

"you already know," price sent. then, "you always know how to make your captain proud."

that correspondence might have been what pushed ghost to keep sending more messages. more taunts. more teasing images that had price rubbing himself in any smidgen of a private corner he could find because simon was never one to disappoint.

so this video had set john's blood on fire, heat scorching from his spine and pooling towards his twitching cock. hairline fractures fill the sides of his phone's screen, leaving rainbow lines filing his eyes at every reflection of the light.

ghost had always liked to share you to him. price knew for a fact that simon had never sent pictures of you to the others—"need your permission first, sir."—but he also thought that simon had drawn the line there. that while he was eager to share snapshots of your pretty little lingeries or the way you marked up simon's tanned skin with deep punctures of what john knows must be straight teeth, simon was not going to indulge john any more.

and yet.

he feels his lungs burn. trembling fingers reach to play the video.

the sound of your squealed moans bouncing against the walls was what he registers first. ghost has you on your knees, and john traces the way simon's got a chokehold on the back of your neck. john watches as ghost uses it as a leverage, tugging you back to his cock—his pelvis is pressed flush against the fat of your ass, and price feels his gums throb with the need to sink his teeth into your flesh at seeing the ripples of your fat bunch up against the bulk of simon's muscles.

"si! si!" you sobbed, muffled as you have your head burrowed into the pillows. your hands are useless by your sides, limp and incapable of even fisting the sheets.

"s'right," simon's voice echoed from behind the screen. "show cap'n how you love moanin' my name."

simon's mention of john has him jolting, his breaths stuttering once again.

he thought this little thing they have was a secret. a dirty, little, desperate secret that only he and ghost had the privilege of knowing. the immorality of it had always pushed john to his orgasm faster than his every rub, and he thought that it would all change the moment you know.

but this is a better treat.

it's a feast.

because john sees it for what it is—a promise.

the video ends, reminding john how short it really was. but he is addicted, unable to let go now that he's been given a taste of what will be.

the next time he replays the video, he's got his erect cock in his hand.

he snaps a picture of his cum-filled palm and sends it to simon. he writes, "show her what she does to me."

it takes twenty-three seconds for simon's reply to come in. it isn't a message but a voicenote—"am i a good girl, cap'n?"

"yeah," john records himself say. "so, so good f'r us, doll."

—

sorta pt 02