#i was only trying to catch up on fanfics

[torchstelechos]

Say what you will about the DC timeline but we all know the truth, Jason Todd uses AO3 and has an account despite not understanding these new fangle technological advancements (hes fucking with Tim he understands what cookies are, it pisses off Tim more than anything else Jason has done)

[thjslove]

Well, some people hold onto [the tattoo tracing paper] if the tattoo is meaningful. It’s like a keepsake. Isn’t the tattoo the keepsake ?

[princessbellecerise]

Court Shenanigans

Summary ✩ Missing their father, your children decide it’s a good idea to interrupt him in the middle of court

Warnings ✩ Mentions of pregnancy

Authors Notes ✩ Everyday I cry cause this man isn’t real but at least I have fanfic

You tried to stop them, you really did.

But being almost nine moons pregnant and having the most swollen feet known to man, it was almost impossible to chase after and keep up with two rowdy tots.

Usually, their nursemaids would have them by now and would be helping to assist you, but Aliza was sick and Joanna was with her family. Both of them would have scolded you for trying to run when you couldn’t even see your feet, but your kids were a mischievous bunch and you had a sinking feeling on where they were headed.

Aemma, the eldest of the two twins, had been complaining all day about not being able to see her father, as Jace had missed out on breakfast and lunch with her in order to hear a few extra petitions.

It seemed as if the Kingdom was more unruly than usual, and Lords had come from all over the realm to plead their cases.

Wanting to be a good King and make sure that he could adhere to all of his subjects, Jace had opted to spend a little extra time on the throne and a less with his family.

This of course didn’t sit well with Aemma, and as her shadow Jaelin followed right on along with her.

Try as you might have, you weren’t fast enough to catch up to them and your protests for them to stop didn’t do much good, either.

Before you could even blink, your twins were flying past the Kingsguard and bursting into the throne room, with little Aemma’s excited shouting making you want to crawl into a hole right there and then.

“Kepa!”

In no time your baby girl ran across the room, interrupting some poor Lord under a pink banner. You thought that he might’ve been from White Harbor, or maybe he was from Maidenpool.

Whatever it was, you didn’t pay much attention as suddenly, all chatter stopped, and you were the center of attention as you wobbled towards Jacaerys and fixed Aemma with a stern glare.

“Aemma! Come back here!” You shouted after her sternly, and thankfully Jaelin was too afraid of your ‘motherly voice’ to get any closer.

He stopped just short of the Iron Throne, choosing to remain by Ser Darklyn’s side rather than follow his sister up the steps. With horror, you realized that Aemma was headed straight to Jacaerys, exclaiming happily as she threw herself in her father’s open arms.

“Kepa!”

She bounced excitedly as Jace pulled her on his lap, looking amused while you struggled to catch your breath.

Running at your size was no joke, and you ached to sit down somewhere and rest. You couldn’t do that though while your two year old twins were causing mayhem.

It was unbefitting of a Queen, you knew that, but desperation had you hiking up your dress, climbing the the steps, and holding your arms out expectantly while Jace chuckled.

“Aemma. It’s time to say goodbye to Kepa and go back to our chambers. Now,” You told her, but that only resulted in the toddler shaking her head and burying herself even deeper into Jacaerys’ arms.

“No! I want to stay with Kepa!” Her defiant little voice shouted, and you winced as a few murmurs echoed through the court.

You were painfully aware that everybody was staring at the scene, which made it even more embarrassing when you reached out again and failed to grab Aemma.

After about the third attempt to pull her away with no avail, your husband seemed to finally take pity on you and sighed.

“It’s alright my love. She can stay,” Jacaerys said, and upon hearing this Aemma beamed. “It’ll be her seat one day after all. Let her gain some experience; even if it is during the middle of a petition.”

You gave him an apologetic look, and you made a mental note to apologize to Lord…well, whoever you were currently interrupting. You had to admit, the sight of Aemma babbling broken phrases to Jace while she tried to grab his crown was adorable.

You sighed reluctantly.

“Alright,” You said, willing to leave Aemma where she was. At the very least you could persuade Jaelin to follow you and take him away, but as you turned to go back down the stairs you suddenly paused.

Had there always been that many, you wondered?

You hadn’t really paid attention that much, but now that your feet were practically screaming at you to sit down, the idea of going down so many steps didn’t seem so appealing.

Of course, you could’ve just asked one of the Kingsguard to help you down, but you didn’t want to be a bother—as silly as it sounded. You also didn’t want to risk your knees giving out and falling, either.

You were in a dilemma, but before you could even decide, Jace did it for you. Your husband, ever attentive, noticed your hesitation and immediately got up.

“Here, my love. Why don’t you rest and I’ll stand for now,” He suggested.

Even more whispers broke out at this. What Jacaerys was proposing was sweet, but it had never happened before and the idea of the Queen sitting on the throne in the presence of the King was…well it was simply unheard of.

You were sure a few people would call the action scandalous, but at the moment though, you didn’t really care what they thought. Your feet were aching and you needed a place to sit down before your knees decided where for you, so you nodded and accepted his offer.

“Thank you, my love.”

You sighed in relief as you sat on the throne. Albeit, it wasn’t the most comfortable of seats with all the swords and points, and you would’ve much rather been in your cushioned chair in your chambers, but it was better than nothing and the pressure on your feet was gone.

Nodding his head, Jacaerys gave you a small kiss on the side of your head and then he stood with Aemma in his arms, and gestured for Lord whoever to keep speaking.

Had you not been out of breath, you would have laughed at his face and the face of many others as they not only witnessed their King give the most powerful seat in the realm to his pregnant wife, but also witnessed him stand up while bouncing his baby daughter in his arms.

It was an unusual sight, but an adorable one that you cherished.

Motioning to Ser Darklyn to bring Jaelin up so that your family would complete, you smiled in content and Jacaerys once again motioned for the man who had been interrupted to continue his petition.

“Lord Mooton. Please, do continue,” He said with a large smile.

You giggled.

Ah, so that was his name.

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop

Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.

Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.

They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.

Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.

The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.

It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.

Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.

Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.

Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.

He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.

He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.

"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.

"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"

Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.

"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"

Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."

"I'm sorry Charles"

"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "

Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.

This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.

No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.

Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.

Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.

But Danny didn't stop there.

Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.

People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.

Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.

Not a single staff member in sight, either.

Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.

Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.

If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.

As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.

Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.

He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.

Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '

Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.

[kapriisunz]

CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader

Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.

Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.

LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS

A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.

p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.

Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.

Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.

Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.

He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.

his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.

Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.

The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.

Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.

But it seems all too forced.

"Captain?.." You ask.

He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.

You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.

Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him. 

“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.

He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.

“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.

However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.

“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.

A light bulb lights above your head.

Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.

You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.

You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.

“What are you doing?” He eyes you.

“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.

He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.

You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.

He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.

“You want to take care of your captain?��

He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.

He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.

“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.

You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky

With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.

Your heart pounds against your chest.

You want to please your captain.

You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.

Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.

Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.

With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.

He wants to watch you do this.

“Such a good girl..”

Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.

Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.

You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.

However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.

You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.

You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.

Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.

“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”

Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.

You need relief, and Buggy notices that.

He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.

He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.

You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.

“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.

He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.

You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.

You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.

You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.

You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.

He groans at how tight and warm you are.

He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.

His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.

You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.

And you do.

He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.

At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.

Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.

You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.

Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.

He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.

Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.

He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.

“Buggy. . .”

Fuck, your whine did something.

However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.

Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him

He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.

His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.

He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.

Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.

Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ PODCAST ୧

summary: matt leaves the podcast because of his brother's jokes, and y/n comforts him.

warnings: cussing, sad, fluff

notes: this fanfic was a request! also english is not my first language so im sorry about any mistake

୨୧

The day with the Triplets has been a little stressful, specially for Matt. Each time he spoke, his brothers would joke saying that he was being way too ‘depressed’ and ‘miserable’. Or Nick would always answer with ‘Yeah, yeah nobody wants to hear about that shit’.

Now, after they invited me to their podcast, here I am, sitting next to my boyfriend, holding his hand gently.

As Chris and Nick keep talking over their brother, calling him ‘Miserable Matt’ I could see him getting more annoyed, his eyes watering, and it feels like I'm the only one seeing his discomfort.

I don’t really know what to do, cause obviously his brothers are just joking, and I'm not sure how to intervene without making things awkward.

They keep teasing him over and over.

“I'm not going to sit here for like another 55 minutes or some shit.” Matt’s voice getting slowly lower.

“What? What was that? That mumble? I can’t understand you.” The older triplet mocks him, but he tries to ignore it. “Ok go ahead-“

“Now you are ‘mumble Matt’ too” Chris laughs after Nick’s comment. “It's like I can't even understand what you are saying, sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, your voice”

I try to end the conversation "Can we just-" Before I can finish, Chris and Nick burst into laughter "Can we start the podcast?" I try again, but Matt lets out a heavy sigh.

Nick continues “it literally sounds like an avalanch coming out of your mouth” Matt gets up aggressively, starting to leave the room “I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

“Oh come on Matt!” Chris says chucking. They laugh some more as I just think of what to do. I get up from my seat, hurrying after him “Hey.. Matt..” I begin, attempting to catch his attention. However, before I could reach him, he gets in his room, and slams the door in my face, leaving me standing outside. I'm sure this is not just about the stupid jokes they were making.

I hesitate for a moment before making any move, thinking if I should open the door, i’m sorry, but I can't just ignore the urge to check on him.

With a deep breath, I reach out and calmly push the door open. Inside, I find Matt lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Can we talk love?” I say quietly closing the door behind me.

He lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "What do you want?" His voice defensive.

Ignoring his tone, I move closer and sit on the bed.

With a gentle touch, I reach out and place my hand on his back, offering a silent gesture of comfort. For a moment, we sit in silence, until I interrupt it.

“Can you tell me what has been going on lately?” I ask softly, my voice filled with concern.

“Nothings going on” He sniffs, still with his face in the pillow “I’m fine” His voice barely above a whisper.

I shake my head, not trusting his words. "You don't seem fine to me" He stays silent, I take a deep breath.

I adjust my position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. I decide to take a different approach instead of talking “Come here..” I pat the spot next to me, in sign for him to come closer “Let's just cuddle for a bit."

He completely stops acting rude in the moment I suggest it, Matt scoots closer, laying his head on my chest, his arms around my waist. I stroke his smooth brown hair. I kiss the top of his head. We stay like this for some good ten minutes.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck and whispers with a shaky voice “I’m just so fucked up..”

Gently, I cupped his cheeks, lifting his head from my neck, making him look into my eyes “Matt.. Why do you say that?”

"I just.. I don't know" He admits. "I'm just so fucking exhausted of feeling like this all the time..”

I sigh, I hate seeing him in this state. “Since when do you feel like that?” I wait patiently for Matt's response, he looks away.

“I don’t know.. For some long time now.. I guess I've been trying to push it away, but it just keeps coming back, over and over.” As he spoke, I could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see it sooner babe.." I whisper, reaching out to gently brush away his tears. "I should have known something was wrong." I kiss his forehead.

He shakes his head "It's not your fault" He murmurs "I don’t want you to worry"

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. "But I do worry, Matt" I confess softly. "I care about you more than anything."

He buries his face deeper into my chest. "I love you so much.." He whispers, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too.." I whisper back in his ear, squeezing him tightly.

୨୧

sorry this is so short 😭😭

tags: @muwapsturniolo

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Is it really right to just carry on as before and pretend that nothing has happened?

Hiya. No.

I think everyone needs to think whether they are capable of separating the fandom and Neil Gaiman.

I could tell you to consider that Good Omens is also Terry Pratchett, David Tennant, Michael Sheen, all the people from cast and crew and people connected with various other editions.

But the thing is, that fandom are fans. It is all those wonderful people making fanart, fanfics, videos and all kinds of impossibly brilliant fanworks. It is people meeting each other whether in person or virtually and admiring each other cosplays, telling each other that they see Good Omens references in real life everywhere and being supportive of each other.

The first Ineffable Con was in 2019 in UK and I wasn't able to visit and in the following years it was (because of covid and to be internationally accessible) only online - this year being the first one it its hybrid form. I was there in person and met dozens of absolutely wonderful people. And that helped me with decision to stay in the fandom.

So no, don't pretend nothing has happened, but it doesn't mean that you have to leave the fandom - a place that you may consider your safe space - either.❤

-

If you don't know what I am talking about or are still in shock... I've been in shock for weeks, trying to hope that for some reason the Neil Gaiman allegations of sexual assaults are a bad dream, a misunderstanding, a conspiracy or me just being kidnapped by aliens and returned to a wrong kind of reality. So it took me a month before I was able to gather myself to scourge the internet for info. Unfortunately all points to that yes, Neil Gaiman is a sexual predator. Using his fame to lure in young women or groom them, manipulate, use and hurt them and using is money and connections to avoid any consequences. It all points to that his bumbling funny persona is actually a front and he is actually a very smart man, using his charisma and eloquence to persuade people of all kinds of things, posing as a feminist and ally so it would be harder to speak against him. Yes, it fucking sucks.

Anyway, this is a good page to catch up on the things.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

more than i can handle

pairing: wonwoo x seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, poly!au, non-idol!au - minors dni.

warnings: dirty talk, dildo play, heavy degradation (whore, slut etc), use of petnames (sunshine, princess, baby boy, pretty boy), dom!wonwoo, switch!reader, sub!seungcheol, kissing, makeout session, anal sex, oral sex (m rec), heavy mxm action, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), creampies, voyeurism, masturbation, hair pulling, sir kink, ass slapping, aftercare

word count: 5,517

summary: the abundance of snow outside won't stop you and wonwoo from restocking your fridge. and it certainly won't stop seungcheol from getting what he wants from his girlfriend and boyfriend - their undivided attention.

Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.

Author's note: your favorite poly is back and better than ever hehe - big thanks to @wongyuseokie, @gyuwoncheol, @highvern, @ourdawnishotterthanourday and @wonuvs for beta reading this fic!

p.s.: if you read about snow and holidays pls ignore, it was in the works since december😭

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

“...Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate the understanding. Have a nice day.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call with a satisfied hum and he slouches back on his chair, returning to his work at hand.

“So, what’s the verdict?” You ask him, sitting on your own chair.

“Work from home. There was absolutely no way I’d be able to move the car with so much snow outside.” Wonwoo replies.

“Does that mean we get to be with you all day long?” 

“That’s right, sunshine.” He smiles sweetly and you get up and hug him excitedly, pressing your lips on his cheek.

“What’s the plan for today? Aside from working, of course.” 

“I was thinking of just being cozy with the two of you, y’know? Like those cliché Pinterest aesthetic winter routines.”

“I thought you weren’t the hot cocoa type.” You raise your brow playfully as you go back to your laptop.

“Just because I’m a coffee addict doesn’t mean I hate everything else.” Wonwoo defends himself while fixing his glasses.

“Well you definitely hate my protein shakes!” Seungcheol butts into the conversation from afar.

“That’s because your protein shakes are atrocious.” Wonwoo deadpans, “No sane person puts chicken breast in a glass.”

“Ew, that does sound atrocious.” You grimace in disgust.

“This is why you’re still lanky and not buff, Jeon.” Seungcheol scoffs as he downs the rest of his shake. 

“Maybe not everyone wants to be a muscle monster like you, Choi.” The younger man sighs and goes back to his task at hand.

“Oh wow, thanks for paying so much attention to me.” 

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Cheollie. He has a lot of work to do, despite staying home.” You try to reassure your other boyfriend.

“Does that mean you’re willing to make up for lost attention?”

“I’m sorry, but I need to catch up with my assignments….” You rub the back of your head apologetically.

“In the middle of the holidays?!” Seungcheol looks at you baffled.

“But my exams start two weeks after the holiday break! There’s not a lot, I promise.” You cup his cheeks.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at you with a huff.

You watch him walk towards the bedroom with heavy steps and guilt settles in your gut.

“I think I was insensitive…” You plop down on the armchair.

“No, he’s being dramatic.” Wonwoo replies without breaking contact with his computer screen.

“But he got a leave from his job just to spend it with us and we’re ignoring him!” 

“Y/N, he’s doing it on purpose.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Wait a couple of minutes and you’ll see.” 

You look at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression and return to your laptop.

Shortly after, you notice Seungcheol coming into the living room, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tight muscle tee. He’s sporting his earphones, as if he was going to the gym for his daily work out session.

Except he starts working out right in the middle of the room, without giving a single fuck.

He starts by stretching out his legs and arms and then proceeds to put music in his ears, switching into the more intense part of his workout. It doesn’t take long for him to start grunting and moaning as he does series after series of exercises, the sweat accumulated on his body staining the fabric of his muscle tee.

“Cheollie?” You peek your head from behind your laptop. “Do you need some water?”

“No worries, princess. I don’t want to distract you from your assignment.” He gives you a quick peck on the corner of your lips.

In true Choi Seungcheol fashion, he does his best to actually distract you from your work by taking off his muscle tee and continuing his work out shirtless.

Wonwoo turns around and takes a look at his boyfriend, mouthing a “told you so” when he turns his gaze to you.

It takes all of his willpower to not bodyslam Seungcheol on the floor and fuck the living daylights out of him with the grunts and moans he’s letting out. He swears there’s a tent forming in his black sweats and he’s quite certain there will be wet spots on the fabric pretty soon. He puts on his noise canceling headphones to focus on his work and get it done as soon as possible.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of distractedness and all you’ve written in your essay is utter gibberish, rubbing your thighs together to provide some relief to your aching core. Right now, all you can think of is being underneath Seungcheol and getting fucked into next week.

You get up from the couch and walk over to the fridge to grab some ice cold water. As soon as you open it, your eyes widen in horror when you see the lack of basic groceries and dairy products.

“Um, guys? We have a problem.” You shout at them, but none of them lift their heads.

You get back to them and tap their shoulders to get their attention. 

“What’s up, princess?” Seungcheol removes his earbuds and pushes his hair back.

“Our fridge is empty. Like, the basics are missing.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He rubs his palms over his face.

“Are the stores even open right now?” Wonwoo asks.

“It has stopped snowing for now and there are probably tons of people who didn’t anticipate this weather. Some stores have to be open, even for emergency situations!” You rest your hands on your waist.

“Give me a second.” Wonwoo goes back to his laptop and with a few rapid clicks on his keyboard, he searches for nearby stores.

“There is one, about six hundred meters away from here.” He turns his screen to the both of you to see.

“It won’t be an ordeal to get there. All we need is sturdy shoes and warm clothes.” You shrug and move towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks you.

“To get dressed and go get groceries. The fridge won’t get full on its own.”

“Hold on , I’m coming with you.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Wonwoo gets up.

“I thought you were really fucking busy with work?” The blond man asks with irony laced in his words.

“I still am, but if you go out all sweaty, you’ll be bedridden for the rest of the holidays and none of us want that.”

“You’re not my mom, Wonwoo.”

“No, but I’m your boyfriend and I still care about your health. Now please go take a fucking shower, you’re all sweaty and gross.” He walks past the shirtless man, but Seungcheol stops him by putting his hand on Wonwoo’s chest.

“You better not think I haven’t noticed that little tent of yours, pretty boy. Two people can play a game.” 

“Too bad there’s three of us in this relationship. And I won’t be the outnumbered one.” Wonwoo bites back and pushes his arm away to join you in the bedroom.

Seungcheol scoffs and pokes his cheek with his tongue. 

Fine by me, he thinks, already thinking of the next step he’s gonna take.

A few minutes later, you and Wonwoo leave the apartment to go buy the much needed groceries and Seungcheol is left alone, an almost childish grin plastered all over his face.

He skips over to the bathroom, stripping himself naked and throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He jumps in the shower and lets the warm water run over his body, washing away the sweat from his work out session. He pours a generous amount of shower gel over his body and spreads it thoroughly over his skin, the cherry scent enveloping the small room. Even if the shower itself is relaxing, Seungcheol himself is way too worked up -  and it’s not just because of the post workout adrenaline. The blatant ignorance he experiences from you and Wonwoo annoys him and turns him on to the point of lunacy. 

He washes the suds from his hands and brings two fingers in his mouth, spitting on them and rubbing them over the rim of his ass experimentally.

He moans heavily when he pushes the fingers inside, cock twitching with need. He puts his free hand on the wall of the shower to support himself while stretching out his hole. He works his thick digits in and out of his ass, eyes scrunched shut and thighs flexing with each thrust. Every time he bites his bottom lip to suppress his moans, he fails miserably and moans even louder - he’s home alone, after all.

His cock is rock hard by now, the tip flushed an angry red and veins bulging over his shaft. He can almost feel the precum starting to build up and ready to leak all over, but he doesn’t want to cum yet and definitely not like this. He removes his fingers from his ass, satisfied with the stretch and washes away the rest of the suds, turning off the shower.

He fastens his bathrobe around his waist and goes into the bedroom, opening his side of the closet to search for his sex toy stash. He giggles when he finds the familiar box and opens it hastily, taking out his favorite knotted dildo. He grabs the lube from the nightstand drawer and looks around the bedroom to see where he’ll place the toy.

His gaze falls on the full bodied mirror next to the closet and an idea pops up in his head as he fiddles with the dildo in his hands. He removes his bathrobe and throws it on the bed, walking to the living room to get his phone. Once he returns to the bedroom, he kneels in front of the mirror and grabs his cock, slowly pumping it with his fist. He pulls up the phone camera and snaps a handful of pictures, flexing his biceps and thighs on purpose to make them look even more attractive.

“Damn, I don’t even have to filter them.” He checks them one by one, absolutely satisfied with the results.

He sends them to the group chat with a quick text, waiting for the two of you to open them and lose your minds. 

“Are we missing anything else?” Wonwoo asks you while pushing the shopping cart down the aisle.

“Maybe some bathroom supplies? Just to be sure, in case it snows again.” 

“I swear, if it weren’t for you, we would have died a long time ago.” Your boyfriend applauds you for your organizing skills.

Both of your phones go off at the same time and you fish your phone out of the pocket of your parka.

“What’s up?” He asks you while putting two ramen cups in the cart.

“Cheol texted the group chat.”

“He probably wants us to buy chicken breast for his godforsaken shakes.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

You open the messaging app and you let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth after being heard by other customers, instantly closing the screen of your phone.

“What happened, sunshine?” The tall man asks you with worry written all over his face.

“Um….How do I put this….” You scratch your heated cheek.

“Y/N, what did he send you?”

“See for yourself.” You point to his pocket and Wonwoo impatiently unlocks his phone

He clenches his jaw tight when he opens Seungcheol’s messages, the previous hard-on he was sporting now threatening to get bigger.

cheollie has sent three photos.

cheollie: it could be your hands but you’re working instead

“This motherfucker.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue and types back a quick reply. He puts his phone back in his pocket and pushes the cart towards the cashiers with quicker steps.

“Hey, what about the rest of the supplies?!” You tug at the sleeve of his parka.

“We’ll get them, sunshine. We just need to be quick about it.” He almost grits his teeth.

“You’re not the only one who’s hot and bothered because of Seungcheol.” You step in front of the cart.

“So you admit that you were having a hard time with your essay.”

“I never said I didn’t! Do you know how difficult it was to type on my laptop while he was groaning and moaning-”

“Like a bitch in heat?” Wonwoo completes your sentence with a lopsided smirk.

“Exactly! And he looks so beefy and thick and-”

“And unbearably hot, yeah I know. And God, it drives me insane.” He lets out a shaky breath.

“Wonu?” You ask him with a lowered voice.

“Yes?”

“Can we get out of here? Like, real soon?”

“I thought you wanted to shop some more stuff?” Wonwoo chuckles at your sudden burst of impatience.

“I still do, but I also have a hot boyfriend at home who could be doing God knows what.” 

“Your other boyfriend is still here with you, though.” He pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“My other boyfriend wants to fuck the boyfriend at home too.” You grin and pull on the other end of the cart. “Come on, time is of the essence.”

As soon as you step foot into the apartment, you are greeted by absolute silence. You opt to call out Seungcheol’s name, but Wonwoo covers your mouth with his hand. He tells you to keep quiet by mouthing the words. He nods towards the fridge and you take off your shoes, tiptoeing your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter as stealthily as possible. He takes off his shoes and parka, taking careful steps towards the bedroom.

The closer he gets, the louder he can hear noises coming from the secluded space. He notices the door being cracked open just enough to get a good view of what is happening inside and he takes the initiative of pushing it wide open to rest his body on the door frame and watch the show in front of him.

Seungcheol is bouncing his ass on the knotted dildo like his life depends on it, the muscles on his thighs and back rippling with every motion. His moans are airy, almost whiny and it makes Wonwoo’s cock drip in his boxers, his self control starting to run thin. 

A small creaking noise on the doorframe alerts Seungcheol and he turns his head around, scanning his boyfriend up and down.

“Oh, don’t mind me, you can keep going.” Wonwoo waves his hand in dismissal.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping for your sake.” Seungcheol scoffs and keeps fucking himself on the toy, as if the younger man doesn’t exist in the room.

“If you want to grab my attention for real, you can try taking the knot in your ass and stay there.” 

“Are you challenging me?”

“You’re the one who said your ass can handle a lot.”

“Hmph. Whatever.” Seungcheol scoffs as lifts himself off the dildo to grab the lube and pour some more over the toy, climbing back on it again to ease himself on the bulbous knot. 

The initial stretch is always intimidating, but as soon as the knot disappears inside him, his body shudders and his nails scratch the wooden floor, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He wants to move so bad, so fucking bad-

“Don’t you dare move.” Wonwoo’s voice is rough and demanding.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” The blond man bites back and raises his hips ever so slightly, never breaking eye contact with his boyfriend.

“I don’t think you want to do this. Am I right, baby boy?”

Seungcheol freezes in his spot, thighs going weak at the pet name. His mouth quivers, the knot stretching him open and he struggles to keep himself in check.

Wonwoo walks with slow steps towards his boyfriend, kneeling next to him. 

“What’s wrong? You went pretty docile just now, didn’t you?” He smirks.

“Fuck you.” Seungcheol grits his teeth.

“What did you say?” Wonwoo grips his jaw tight.

“I said fuck you, pretty boy.” Seungcheol sports a shit-eating grin and it earns him a harsh slap on the ass, making him whine pathetically.

“I prefer it when you make pretty sounds like the one you made just now.” Wonwoo runs his thumb over the pretty pink bottom lip and the naked man sucks the digit.

“That thing where you two start without me is getting annoying.” You shake your head in disapproval, stepping into the bedroom impatiently.

“Sorry sunshine, but baby boy is being a little impatient slut today.” 

“Yeah, I noticed. I bet he thought of walking around the apartment completely naked just to get our attention.” You take off your clothes in a hurry, remaining only in your underwear set. 

“Ooh, she has the lace on.” Wonwoo whistles in a flirty way as he takes his thumb away.

“I always like to be prepared for any case.”

“Could you please p-pay some attention to me?” Seungcheol asks through gritted teeth, struggling with the toy inside him.

“Hm? What was that, Cheollie?” You kneel right next to him, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please pay some attention to me.” He repeats his sentence a bit louder.

“We are right here, baby boy.” Wonwoo cups his neck lovingly, “Just tell us what you want and we’ll give it to you.”

“I need you, both, please.” The blond man exhales shakily.

Wonwoo and you look at each other, sharing impish glances, as if your brains thought of the same thing at the same time. He then gets up and takes off his long sleeved shirt and sweats, dropping the clothes right in front of Seungcheol. He then sits on the bed, patting his lap for you to join him.

You climb on the bed and in your boyfriend’s lap, leaving your other boyfriend shocked and visibly upset.

“You- I hate you both.” He grumbles while clenching his fists on the floor.

“If you want to join, then don’t cum.” Wonwoo looks him straight in the eyes while groping your ass. “Perhaps then we’ll consider it.”

“Wonu? I am right here, baby.” You get his attention by putting your hands on his broad shoulders and you rub yourself on his boxers to rile him up. And it works like a fucking charm, because he’s shoving his tongue down your throat like a man who hasn’t kissed someone in an entire lifetime. 

His kisses are usually softer and more calculated, but not today - Wonwoo is far too riled up to care about details and the only thing he wants is to ravish you. He pushes you on the mattress and climbs over you, ruthlessly attacking your lips and neck with his mouth. He uses both teeth and tongue to abuse your skin, deliberately targeting your weak spots to elicit sweet noises from you.

He steals a few side glances towards Seungcheol, who is on the brink of tears from being edged for so long, droplets of sweat running down his flushed skin. The irrational, needy part of his brain wants to jump on the bed and kick Wonwoo outside, while keeping you all to himself. But he knows better than disobeying a pissed off Wonwoo.

Wonwoo pulls you by the arms and makes you sit on your knees facing Seungcheol, while he sits behind you, chest touching your back.

“Let’s give our baby boy a show, shall we?” He whispers in your ear and you nod, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo caresses your body with his hands, over your stomach and reaches your covered breasts. He hooks his fingers in the lace of your bra, tugging it harshly to let your mounds bounce out of the undergarment, a small ripping sound reaching your ears. 

“Ease off the lace!” You whine, but he grabs your chin with his hand, the other glued on your chest.

“Act up and I’ll make sure you won’t cum at all, sunshine. Am I clear?”

“...yes Sir.” You sigh, 

“Good girl.” Wonwoo kisses your cheek and relaxes his grip on your chin. “Good girls always get rewarded.” He murmurs in your ear, his hand descending lower and lower.

You let out a small moan when your boyfriend’s hand palms over your clothed pussy, slowly rubbing the lace hiding your clit.

“I can already tell you’re excited about this, sunshine. Soaking through your underwear like the needy little thing you are.” Wonwoo’s lips are glued on your ear.

“Please touch me more, Sir.” You whine, looking right into Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I didn’t hear you well, darling.” The dark haired man chuckles.

“Just touch her, you asshole.” Seungcheol groans, his cock twitching like crazy again.

“You don’t get to speak a damn word.” Wonwoo grits his teeth.

“Wonu, please!” You cry out, “I need you so bad, I’m gonna lose it!”

“You goddamn little shits.” He pushes you on the bed and gets up, standing next to Seungcheol.

“You want to get fucked? Now’s your chance.” He grips the blond man’s hair and lifts him off the knotted toy, practically throwing him on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Ouch, that hurt, you fucker!” Seungcheol snarls at Wonwoo, but the younger man pins him down on the mattress, despite being less muscular.

“Playtime’s over, baby boy. My turn now.” He discards his boxers, cock slapping against his stomach, bright red and leaking.

“Funny how you’re trying to act all dominant yet you’re leaking more than a broken faucet.” Seungcheol snickers, spreading his legs apart.

Wonwoo glances at you and offers you his hand to help you get up. You take it with a smirk and he positions you right between Seungcheol’s legs.

“You know what to do. And remember - don’t let him have his way with you.”

“Gotcha.” You grin devilishly.

“Princess, do you seriously think you can dom me? Please be real now.” Seungcheol laughs, but his laughter is cut short when he sees Wonwoo hovering right above his face.

“No. But we can dom you.”

You put your hands under Seungcheol’s knees and push his thighs apart to make room for yourself, putting him in a mating press instead of the opposite that usually happens in the bedroom. You position yourself right over his tip and slowly slide your pussy down his length, until it has completely disappeared inside you.

“O-Oh….Fuck, Princess, didn’t see that coming.” The blond man’s mouth goes slack from the novel sensation.

“God, no wonder you like this position so much.” You moan and start moving your hips the same way one of your boyfriends usually fuck you stupid.

Seungcheol throws his head back and grins when he sees Wonwoo pumping his cock with his hand, the tip dangerously close to his cheek.

“What are you waiting for, Wonu?” The older man snickers and moves his hand to touch his boyfriend’s shaft, but Wonwoo pins his wrists down and lets his cock rub the plush lips.

“For the right moment to shut you up.”

Wonwoo slides his cock inside and starts fucking Seungcheol’s throat harshly, finally letting out his pent up frustrations. 

“Don’t be so h-harsh on him, Wonu, he might choke.” You point out the gagging, sloppy noises coming from above.

“Don’t worry, he can take it. Isn’t that right, baby boy?” Wonwoo takes off his cock for a few seconds.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol coughs a bit, but regains his breath like a pro, “Just make sure to fuck me like you both mean it, you weaklings.”

The comment makes you and Wonwoo’s blood boil like molten lava and you climb over Seungcheol’s body to push his thighs further apart and fuck him like a bitch in heat.

“That’s it, sunshine. Fuck him like the whore he is.” Wonwoo grunts as he facefucks your (and his) boyfriend, putting one hand on his throat to squeeze it ever so slightly.

“Shit, this feels so damn great,” you moan out loud as you ride his cock, “I can feel him twitching inside me, he’s close.”

“Of course he is,” Wonwoo leans closer and gives you a quick kiss, “Nobody could ever resist your beautiful pussy, sunshine. Especially us.”

Seungcheol starts moaning around the shaft bullying his mouth and he wraps his thick thighs around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Oof- God, he’s so damn desperate to cum.” You chuckle and run your hands over his torso to rile him up even further.

“Don’t stop until you are fully satisfied, Y/N. Baby boy is here to take whatever we’re going to give him.”  

Your pussy stays glued on Seungcheol’s cock, rubbing it like a tight fleshlight until it starts milking him dry, sucking globs after globs of cum. The muscles of his thighs twitch behind your waist and his fists clench on the mattress, the shocks of his orgasm torturing his body.

Wonwoo detaches his hips away from Seungcheol’s mouth, letting the man breathe and spew a string of moans and curses.

“Princess, please, s-slow down! You’re- ah, fuck!” He whines loudly, tears stinging his eyes.

“She won’t stop until she has had her fill, baby boy.” Wonwoo digs his nails in Seungcheol’s wrists, “And don’t even try to stop her. Am I clear?”

“Shit- Yes, Sir.”

You rhythmically bounce your hips on top of his dick, your inner thighs beginning to burn from exhaustion and a thick, milky ring forms around your entrance. You can feel your own climax inch closer and closer, the pattern of your movements growing sloppier by the second.

“S-Sir I’m gonna cum, God I’m so close!” You cry out and plant your palms on the toned pair of pecs underneath you.

“Go on, sunshine. You earned this orgasm all on your own, you and your capable pussy.” Wonwoo stares at you with hungry eyes, watching you fall apart on the blond man’s cock.

Your eyes nearly roll in the back of your skull when you finally cum and you would be lying if you said it isn’t one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. You’re certain your brain has stopped working and you probably look like a lust-crazed animal.

“That’s it, sunshine. Ride it all out.” The dark haired man presses a kiss on the column of your neck, while Seungcheol is writhing and shaking under the two of you.

“I’m so….full.” You sigh in satisfaction and you feel the meaty legs around your lower back relaxing around you and plopping down on the bed. You carefully lift yourself off his lap and let out a long drawn moan when a sticky trail of cum runs down your thigh.

“God, I’m so spent.” Seungcheol groans, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Already? That’s too bad.” Wonwoo scoffs and flips his boyfriend face down on the sheets. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

“And I thought you had completely forgotten.” Seungcheol grins and bumps his ass directly on Wonwoo’s hardened dick. “Come on, don’t you want to fuck my ass already?”

You sit back on the headboard, your fingers ghosting over your chest and clit, your gaze entirely focused on your boyfriends.

“We even have an audience, pretty boy. I think you should hurry up and stick it in.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he lines up his cock and slowly pushes in, until he’s balls deep.

“Enjoy the show, sunshine.”

The tall man grips Seungcheol’s waist and begins thrusting slowly inside him, grunting at the tight sensation around his cock. 

“How are you still tight after sitting on that monstrosity for so long?”

“Can’t betray my secrets like that.” The blond man sends a wink towards you.

“Wonu, go faster.” You say with a demanding tone, your fingers working circles on your clit.

“You heard the princess - Put your back into it, pretty boy.” 

“Damn you both, fucking brats.” Wonwoo uses one hand to fist Seungcheol’s hair and keep his head down, now towering over him. He pistons his hips against his boyfriend’s ass hard enough to make it bounce repeatedly, smacking noises filling the room.

“Fuck - That’s what I’m t-talking about.” Seungcheol grips the sheets, lips parted open and moans spilling freely.

Your whines match your boyfriend’s moans, your hands working out your pussy at the same speed Wonwoo is thrusting. Two of your digits are covered in the cum left inside you from previously riding Seungcheol, acting as the perfect lube.

“Ass made in Heaven, damnit,” Wonwoo catches his bottom lip with his teeth, “Made to be railed by none other than me.”

“My toys would like to disagree.” Seungcheol half moans and the snarky comment earns him a slap on the ass, forcing him to whimper.

“The only noises I want to hear from you are whimpers and moans, you whore.” 

Wonwoo gets rougher with his thrusts, his hand pulling Seungcheol’s hair by the roots, lifting his head to make him face you. “Now, I want you to look at her while I’m fucking you stupid and give her the most cunt-watering expression you have.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Seungcheol breathes out, a fresh layer of sweat adorning his body.

Wonwoo delivers full-bodied thrusts, pulling and pushing his cock until the tip is barely inside and then fully sheathed again, knocking the air out of Seungcheol’s lungs. Salty tears cascade his cheeks, his body jerking forward with each movement.

“W-Wonu, you’re being too r-rough with him.” You comment shakily, two of your fingers rapidly plunging into your weeping cunt

“Rough, you say? Do you want me to slow down, baby boy?” Wonwoo asks his boyfriend, halting his hips.

“N-No, please don’t, please don’t stop, fuck!” Seungcheol pushes his ass back, chasing the stimulation.

“See, sunshine? Baby boy likes it rough and sloppy - and so do you.”

“I-”

“Keep your beautiful pussy stuffed until we’re done, will you?”

“Yes, yes Sir.” You nod furiously as you try to push back your orgasm.

“W-Won’t be too long until then,” Wonwoo groans loudly, “I’m almost there, fuck.”

“Please do it inside, please!” Seungcheol begs loudly, his body nearly giving out.

“Fuck, take it all, slut, all yours.” Wonwoo curses in his ear and finally topples over the edge, dumping a part of his load in his boyfriend’s hole. He takes out his cock, giving it a few more pumps to splatter the remnants of his climax all over Seungcheol’s ass. 

The sight before you makes your head spin with more arousal and your walls clench around your fingers, your own orgasm washing over you and sending you to cloud nine.

For a good few minutes, mixed heavy breaths are all the three of you can hear. It’s clear as daylight that all three of you are beyond tired and barely able to move.

“My body hurts everywhere.” Seungcheol whines in defeat.

“Mine too.” You agree.

“I’m afraid both of you need to get up,” Wonwoo stretches his back, “We need to change the sheets, they’re fucked.”

“So are we, dumbass.” The blond man grimaces in pain.

“I am fully aware,” Wonwoo tries to lift Seungcheol up and you right after, “Now get up, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“You haven’t even prepared a bath!” You pout your lips in protest.

“Really going through the princess act, don’t you?” He lifts you in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, gently placing you on the edge of the tub. 

“As if you don’t like treating me like one.” You grin playfully.

“I would say this is Cheol’s duty, but I love you a little too much to not treat you like a princess.” He presses a kiss on your cheek and lets the water run. “Mind checking the water until I’m back with him?”

“Not at all.” You reply with a smile and he leaves the bathroom to return to the crime scene.

To his surprise, Wonwoo finds Seungcheol standing up and removing the dirty sheets, the skin on his ass and thighs stained from cum streaks.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t let you do all the work now.” The blond man picks up the sheets and the used toy from the floor. As soon as he takes a couple more steps towards the door, he can feel his legs screaming in pain.

“Ow fuck!”

“Whoa, careful!” Wonwoo sweeps at the right moment and catches him before falling, “Can you please not be so fucking stubborn?”

“But-”

“No buts.” He throws Seungcheol’s arm over his shoulder, “I need to get your ass to the bathroom.”

“What are you doing? The bath is ready!” You yell from the corridor.

“Coming!” Wonwoo yells back.

“Well, at least now we’re even, right?” Seungcheol gives a silly wink towards the dark haired man.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Wonwoo snorts as he helps the older man out of the bedroom.

“After being fucked like this? Definitely.”

“Stupid and incorrigible.”

“And hot and rich and-”

Wonwoo cuts him off with a quick kiss on the lips, catching him off guard.

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

Seungcheol flashes a toothy grin and runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Yes, Sir.”

[singmyaubade]

OKAY OKAY idk if you still do Eddie Munson if not it's fine but I just ended a situationship/fwb with a rude white boy, I lowk wanna see a fanfic. where Eddie has this relationship with reader, then he flirts with someone else and takes them to bed, and reader is just heartbroken,and gets revenge

toxic!eddie munson x female!reader

summary: you think I’d let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? no fucking way. he doesn’t get to win.

warnings: smut! 18+, cursing, very much angst, arguing, mature content, etc..

a/n: wow, you actually got me out of hibernation with this one. i haven't wrote eddie in a long time so bear with me but since fuckboys very much PISS ME OFF, i had to do you a solid and i hope you enjoy! as always, apologize if you hate this.

Your relationship with Eddie was not something that you could explain in a few short words. Of course, it was complex, complicated, difficult, angering, loving, warm.... But again, not something you could name with a few short words.

It had been about three months ago when you caught Eddie staring at your ass while you were playing dodgeball and he was sitting at the bleachers.

He had that sly smile on and his back leaning on one of the levels on the bleachers, staring at you intently. Not only was it enough to catch your attention but enough for you to keep looking.

All it took was a wink and a few whispers in the locker room for you to be hooked. But after, Eddie had made it clear with you that he wasn't ready to be in a relationship.

Eddie kissed your neck while his grip on your neck was harsh, "Listen baby, I want this so fucking bad but I'm not ready for somethin' serious," He whispered but the trance you were in only had you saying,

"Uh-huh,"

And since then, you had been stuck in a friends with benefits situation with Eddie Munson.

It wasn't the worse thing in the world but sometimes, it never felt the best. I mean, it wasn't like Eddie was an asshole who didn't care about you after you fucked or did anything. He would always cuddle you or clean you up when you felt tired.

He would always let you vent to him, give you kisses, and make you laugh. Those were the times when you felt like you could be more with him.

And then there would be times where he talked about Stacey Callahan's ass with a sly smile and glint in his eye, almost making you want to stab him.

You would shoot daggers into him but he would never notice because he considered you a friend.

And you could never tell him your real feelings because then you guys would be nothing and that seemed like a worse fate.

But at least, he never made an actual pass at girls in front of you and from what he had told you, he hasn't fucked anyone since you and him had started.

And that made you feel like you could be more.

But you were afraid you spoke too soon when you were trying to find Eddie and saw him and Caroline Blaren making out under the bleachers.

His hand groping her ass and her moans echoing throughout the gym. If it wasn't for the fact that it was after school, almost half the school population would've been cursed with this sight.

His mouth leaving hot kisses on her neck as he did with you a multitude of times, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she giggled.

For the first time in your life, you had felt as if your heart had shattered.

A part of you wanted to make a scene, maybe go batshit crazy and curse Eddie to the brink of eternity and then the other part of you wanted to walk away, realize that you were worth more than someone who you thought cared for your feelings or for you at all.

Before you could leave the gym and maybe cry in a corner, Eddie locks eyes with you and smiles before he excuses himself and tells Caroline to wait under the bleachers.

She scoffs a little bit but twirls her hair as she stands there, mugging you.

You still have a shocked expression as Eddie approaches you, grinning ear to ear,

"I know I said we were gonna meet today but," He shyly cheers, "I've been trying to bag this for months and I really need this, Y/N, we can meet tomorrow though," He says as if this was casual.

You blinked at him as he awkwardly laughed at your expression, "Earth to Y/N?" He waved his hand in your face as you closed your mouth and swallowed.

You did your best to form a smile, "Uh- yeah sure,"

He cheered, kissing you on the cheek, "You're the best, I owe you one," He winked at you before going back to Caroline.

He put his arm around her shoulder before exiting the other way of the gym.

You couldn't believe that you let Eddie Munson break your heart.

There were multiple thoughts entering your head the sight of this.

One was that you were a complete idiot and let Eddie Munson play you like a fiddle. The second was that he had never taken you seriously. The third was that you needed to make him feel as you did.

And maybe it was petty for you to feel like you needed revenge but you couldn't let Eddie get away with making multiple girls feel this way,

Harmless to him but cruel to you.

And now you had to make him pay which you knew wasn't going to be easy.

Making Eddie Munson jealous was one of those things that was damn near impossible. He always prided himself in being as 'chill as a cucumber, when it came to his love life.

You had never seen him get jealous once and you didn't even think it was a feeling to him.

But you did know Eddie hated being ignored.

You remembered when he jokingly called your ass flat and you ignored him for an hour before he looked like he was on the brink of tears.

That was the one sore sport of his that you knew of and it certainly wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage.

So when Eddie had called you that very night, you answered but not with the same eagerness you always had,

"Hello?" You answered, holding the telephone up to your ear.

"Hey Y/N," You heard Eddie's voice on the other side of line, voice excited.

You swallowed before answering back flatly, "Hi,"

He sounded surprised at your tone but didn't mention it, "Jus' wondering if you wanted to come over, Caroline just left,"

Your blood felt like it was boiling. It was as if he wanted a snack to go with his meal which only pissed you off more and it had been six hours, he had been fucking Caroline for six hours.

"I can't," You said, concealing your anger.

He sounded astonished, "Uh, why not?"

"Busy," You replied, annoyed.

You could feel your vagueness starting to worry him, "Busy with what?" He said snarkily.

"Stuff," You scoffed.

When did Eddie care so much about what you were doing? Maybe once he realized you wouldn't be at his beck and call any longer.

He took a breath, "What about tomorrow?" He asked, hoping your answer would be different.

"I'm busy, Eddie," You snapped.

There was silence on the other line for a few seconds that felt like decades before he replied again, "Is something wrong?" He asked, the worry present in his voice.

"No, I really can't talk right now, I'll see you later," You said quickly, putting the phone back on the link before he could answer.

You sighed, trying your best to feel as if this was the best decision. Of course, you knew ignoring Eddie wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world but you didn't expect it to be the hardest either.

Once Eddie gets fixated, there's not really a way to get him off the case.

And that turned out to be a fact when you saw him at school the next morning,

"Y/N," Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you in the custodian closet.

You made a surprised sound before realizing it was Eddie, "Jesus, I thought you were a murderer," You said, releasing your arm from his grip.

He ignored your joke, locking his eyes into your eyes, "What's up with you?" He asked.

You gulped, "I don't know what you're talking about,"

He scoffed, "You fucking dodged me on the phone,"

You rolled your eyes, "I told you I was busy,"

"You've literally let me eat you out before you had an huge exam in the next hour so that's a load of crap," He replied as you gawked, "So tell me what's actually up,"

You moved your jaw to the side, looking away as Eddie fumed in front of you.

You were lost for words but this didn't stop Eddie from waiting for answer so you gave one,

"I'm done fucking you,"

Eddie looked shocked, lost for words, he almost seemed as if he was having a stroke. He snapped out of his trance by laughing, "Are you serious?"

Your demeanor didn't change, "Deadly."

He bit his lip, almost wanting to laugh because this had to be a joke, "Baby, thats a big decision," His chest was against yours at this point, "Are you sure about this?" He asked, his breath whispering against your ear.

You could feel yourself breathing harder and a bit turned on but you knew this cycle wouldn't end if you didn't stop it. You pushed against his chest as he stepped backwards, "I'm done Eddie." You stated, walking out of the closet and leaving him in there.

You took a deep breath before walking to your class, it was hard to believe that you had just rejected Eddie and that he didn't utterly make you regret it.

You sat in class as you watched Eddie come on minutes after, always arriving after the bell. You could feel the tension radiating off you both but he didn't care to take a glimpse of you, his hard expression already telling enough.

You eyed him as he sat down next to you, a shocked expression on your face. Eddie had never sat down next to you in classes or let alone even show up.

You could already tell he was about to start fucking with you.

As Ms. Rodriguez started her lesson, you started to feel a fingertip tracing your knee as you swallowed. You looked at Eddie but he kept his hard expression, not even a smirk forming.

You watched him as his finger rose higher, almost at the hem of your skirt.

There was something in you that wanted to let him, maybe get your last taste Eddie before it was over forever but if you did this, it would never be over.

You knew this was Eddie trying to win and you couldn't let him.

In a flash, you grabbed his hand which caused him to finally look at you and you slammed it into his own lap. He looked furious and you felt a small victory as he pushed out his chair and stormed out while Ms. Rodriguez yelled for him to come back.

—————

The bell rang as you went towards the cafeteria, going to sit with the mutual friends you shared with Eddie.

Ever since you and Eddie had started hooking up, he had introduced you to his friends and you didn't actually mind sitting with them. They would always banter in front of you which always made you giggle and it was never superficial with them.

Usually, you would've sat next to Eddie but since shit hit the fan, you took a seat next to Gareth.

You saw Eddie shooting daggers into your soul but you kept your composure and ignored him.

You could hear them arguing over something about D&D which only made you laugh before Gareth noticed you, "Hey Y/N!" He beamed as you smiled.

"Hey Gareth, what are you guys talking about?" You asked, looking at him.

Gareth grinned, ready to start his tangent, "Oh so basically, we were talking about if Paladin or the Monk had more of a power bu-"

Eddie cut him off, "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you as the table went silent.

You steamed, "What are you talking about?"

He began his theatrics, "I mean did I say you could sit here?" The whole table looked between you and him, there had never been one argument between you and Eddie, let alone one in front of them.

You sneered, "Why would I not be allowed to sit here?" You asked, wanting to kill Eddie for doing this in front of everyone.

"Well because, you don't belong here," He said, nonchalantly.

You laughed, "I don't belong here?" Your eyes were locked onto his, anger present in them.

"Yeah," He smirked which only made your blood boil.

"So since I'm sucking your dick anymore, I can't sit here?" You questioned, causing the entire table to gasp.

You weren't planning to reveal that you and Eddie had fucked several times but since he was really trying to get under you, there was no other choice.

"You can't sit here because nobody wants you here, Princess," He said, hatefully.

You looked at everyone around the table but they kept their gazes low, not wanting to go against Eddie.

Eddie was expecting pure anger to come out of you or maybe you would have to reconcile with him and you guys could go back to how you were but instead, you had gotten up and a smile was present on your face.

"I think I'm actually gonna sit with Jason," You slyly said as Eddie felt enraged, "I think that's a dick I actually would like to suck," You grabbed your tray heading over to jock table.

It wasn't exactly the best plan considering you hated Jason but Jason had been trying to get under you for years and this was the only way to get under Eddie's skin.

Your skirt rose up as you blinked dumbly at Jason sitting next to him, "Hi Jason," You sweetly said as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, him eyeing your body.

"I was wondering if you could teach me a few things about basketball at yours, I've got a research project," You said, fingers grazing his thigh.

It was not your best effort at being seductive but it was enough to get Jason Carver.

"I think I could help with that, mine at seven?" He said as you nodded.

You turned your back to see Eddie staring at you, more mad than you had ever seen him.

He was jealous.

And this was only the beginning.

[baekuras]

Me: oki doki time to sleep and be up bright and early my brain for the well over past hour: okay so Kiyan brainrot right? think of all the art you could draw and the fanfics you haven’t read yet and-

[nerdy-novelist017]

Apologies (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader pt 6)

Ahhh don't come at me for the lack of updates lately! 😅 I've been so distracted with watching the Olympics and my job. I'm not meant to work a ful-time job, your honor. I just wanna write silly fanfics all day and read all night pls and thanks ! Anyway, enjoy! 🩷

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.4k+

Summary- The last person you expect to be there to dry your tears is that stubbornly persistent biker of yours.

******

Pete never showed up to your fundraiser. You had waited the whole afternoon in the hopes that you’d see him, but he wasn’t there for your event. He wasn’t there for the bake sale, or the picnic. He didn’t even show up for the auction which you were sure he’d be interested in that since one of the items to be sold was an expensive golf club set. He must have had other plans, you tried to tell yourself. He must have been too busy. 

You hadn’t seen Benny after that either, but you tried to find that as more of a relief than disappointment, after all, he was the reason you and Pete had a bit of a disagreement anyway. Part of you wondered if he only showed up for your tent since you hadn’t seen him anywhere else at the charity afterwards. Regardless, the hours passed at the picnic and you eventually helped everyone pack up before you left too, riding home on your bicycle. You tried to call Pete when you made it home, but his mother answered and told you he wasn’t home. You asked her to have him call you when he could. You ate dinner with your family and tried to not look too hopeful every time the phone rang because it was never Pete calling you back. You expected to go to bed with a sense of dejection, but instead you were surprised to feel something closer to  . . . relief. 

So the next two days went by quickly. You were too busy with work and household chores to notice that Pete hadn’t called you back. It was only when you had gotten up early to start on breakfast on the third day that he finally did ring you. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you much,” he told you over the phone. “I miss you.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you were busy,” you mumbled as you stirred the pancake batter, phone receiver balancing precariously between your cheek and shoulder. 

“I want to see you this weekend. I can pick you up around noon on Saturday if you’re free.” 

You agreed a bit reluctantly, but he didn’t seem to catch it. 

******

“Oh, are you going to teach me to golf?” you asked excitedly as Pete pulled into the country club parking lot. He’d been quiet to tell you where it was that he was taking you today, but you wanted to trust the spontaneity of the moment so you let him drive you to the mystery location. Out of all the places he could have surprised you with, this certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Part of you was confused because you hadn’t expressed a particular fondness for the sport, but another part of you felt warmth that he wanted to share his hobby with you. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d like to join me and the boys today.” He smiled at you as you both exited the car. “Sit in the cart and look pretty while you cheer us on.”

Oh. So he wasn’t even teaching you his hobby. You wanted to say something back, to tell him that you were willing to learn if he taught you, but his friends came over then, interrupting your chance to speak. Pete introduced you to them, five in total and you struggled to remember their names. But it didn’t matter much since all chances of you speaking were thrown out the window when they bear hugged each other, and turned to go out onto the field. You followed behind, quietly trying to find a place in their obviously-tight friend group. And that’s how you spent the next three hours: awkwardly existing in their world, sitting on the cart and watching them play. You were the only girl, and it was clear that they didn’t know how to involve you much in their conversations. And when you were able to pull Pete to the side for a moment, you asked if he could let you take a swing once, just to try it out. He nodded but said, “Well, maybe in the next game, this one I’ve got a bet on and every shot counts.” You didn’t ask again. 

Even though you were still technically spending time with him, this didn’t feel in any way fun or exciting. You tried not to, but your mind drifted to your night spent at the bar with Benny and how fun that was, despite it being a bar full of bikers – a scenario you would have never thought you’d be in, let alone enjoy. As you sat in the golf cart, having nothing better to do than to watch Pete with his friends, you wondered if this was all he wanted you for. Were you really just a doll to him? A trophy? You didn’t get to play? 

After the next game ended, you asked Pete if he could take you somewhere for lunch and he seemed almost reluctant to leave his friends. But in the end, he did agree, and you said goodbye to the band of golfers. You walked back to the parking lot together and when you spotted his car in the distance, you figured this was your chance to actually talk with him, not just listen to him speak. 

“What do you want out of life, Pete?” you asked quietly as you slowed to a stop on the sidewalk.

“What?” He paused a few paces ahead of you, glancing back. “What kind of question is that?” 

“I mean,” you struggled to gather your jumbled thoughts. “What kind of life do you want?”

His brows pinched together in confusion. “Well, I’m going to school for engineering so I’m going to do that.”

You waited for him to continue, but he just shrugged and motioned for the car. “You coming?”

Not seeing the conversation over quite yet, your feet remained firmly planted in your spot. “But what do you want out of life? What do you want for me in your life?” 

“Geez, (Y/N),” he laughed humorlessly. “Where is this coming from?” His expression darkened suddenly. “Is this because of that dirty biker?”

It was your turn to look confused as you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off. “Have you seen him again, hmm?”

“I . . . he was at the fundraiser–”

“What did I tell you?” He asked rhetorically as he closed the distance between you. “I don’t want you around that deadbeat again.”

“It wasn’t like I sought him out,” you defended, trying to ignore the rush of agitation at his choice of description. “I had no clue he would be there. I thought you were going to be there.”

“Well, I couldn’t be. You can’t just expect me to drop everything for you at such a late notice.”

“What was more important that you needed to be at?” You frowned.

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the car. “I have my own life.”

That’s when you realized that he was so . . . disconnected, uninterested. He may have wanted you but not in the way of getting to know you. His want was selfish, only born out of lust. He didn’t care about your hobbies or interests. You weren’t even listened to when you spoke to him. The realization was painfully obvious and you felt like a fool, like he had played you. And maybe he wasn’t even aware of it himself, but you could see it now: he didn’t care for you, not in the way you longed for. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking your head as you watched him approach the driver’s side door. “I know that, but . . . I was just hoping to spend time with you.”

He turned back and threw his arms out dramatically. “I’m spending time with you now, aren't I? Will you just get in the car?” 

You took a deep breath, looking down at your shoes. “I think I’m gonna walk home.”

“Are you serious?” His voice grew colder as he yanked open his door. “Because I didn’t go to your bake sale?”

You shook your head. “No, I like walkin’ and I just want some time to think–”

“You’re going off to find that biker, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Your gaze shot back up to his. “No, I–”

“I knew this would happen.” He shook his head, an unamused smile flashing on his face. “He’s filling your head with all these dangerous ideas. He’s poisoning you against me. Me.”

“I’m not–” 

“Get in the car.” You didn’t realize that it wasn’t a request anymore. 

“Pete, I just don’t–”

“Get in the fucking car, (Y/N)!” He shouted, slamming his hand on the roof, and you jumped at the sound. 

You stared at him, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. You’d never seen any man act like this, especially not Pete. Panic turned the blood in your veins to ice and you were suddenly painfully aware of just how fast your heart was beating in your chest. Seconds ticked by, and he finally reacted to your speechlessness by rubbing a hand over his face, sighing loudly. 

“Look, just get in the car,” he tried again, his voice barely controlled. “We came here together and I don’t want people to talk about how I’m leaving without you, okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay, you wanted to say, but your throat was suddenly too tight to speak. All you could do was stare at this man who you thought you had a pretty good understanding of, who you never thought would raise his voice at you, who would never command you to do something you very obviously denied. You shook your head, hand holding over your chest in an attempt to even out your heart rate.

He called your name, but you turned and forced your legs to walk, to move away from him. You just wanted to get home to the safety of your bedroom. Behind you, you could hear his car door slam shut and the engine whine as it fired up. He drove over to you, nearly hitting the curb as he weaved.

“Fine, walk home then!” he yelled and revved the engine, tires peeling out on the blacktop as he zoomed away. 

That’s when the tears started falling. You sucked in a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and a sob choked into it. The sidewalk blurred from the stream of tears but you trudged on, wanting nothing more than to escape the prying eyes of the neighborhood. The action of Pete slamming his hand against the metal proof of his car replayed in your mind and something unpleasant gripped your heart at the realization that what you saw was his reaction to not getting what he wanted the first time. This was supposed to be the exciting moments of you relationship, the time when you were still discovering who each other were. If he could be so easily angered by you now, what would 5 years of marriage look like? What would 10? 

And as you approached the intersection, a thought came to you and you felt sick at the possibility that maybe this is what your mother felt before she married your father. And your grandmother before she married your grandmother. Like a chain, these women with hearts and ambitions and dreams all just got married and became something their husbands wanted, lived a dream their husbands had. And maybe that was their dream, but what if it wasn’t yours?

The revving of an engine broke you free from your all-consuming thoughts and fresh fear spiked through you. Was it Pete coming back? But no, you realized. The engine was coming from the gas station you were passing on the corner, and it wasn’t a car, but a motorcycle. The rider pulled up to one of the free parking spots, cutting the engine and kicking out the kickstand. His back was turned to you, but you knew who it was already by the messy blonde hair and signature blue jacket lettered “Vandals” across the shoulder blades. You groaned because he was the last person you wanted to see right now but you needed to walk right by him to continue on your way home. And as ridiculous as it was, you wanted to cry harder at the thought of him seeing you crying. 

When he dismounted, you quickened your pace, putting your head down in the hopes that he wouldn’t notice you. But of course, you heard him call out, “Hey, Little Bunny.”

You sniffed hard, quickly swiping your fingers across your cheeks as you heard him approach. Even though you didn’t slow your pace, he caught up to you quickly. 

“You walkin’ home again?” His voice was light, teasing but you didn’t dare to look up at him. “You must really like–”

But he must have seen your tear-soaked face because he stopped, his hand gently grasping your upper arm. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, and against your better judgment, you glanced up at him. That was all it took before his shoulders visibly stiffened, and his jaw locked tightly. “Who did this?”

“Nobody,” you muttered softly, voice cracking. “I’m fine.”

“Was it Pete?” his grip remained firm on your arm.

“Please, just leave it alone, Benny,” you whispered desperately, and his eyes softened as he released you. A painfully long beat played out between you as you watched him decide if he wanted to press you further for details. But to your surprise, he dropped it, instead, reaching out, his calloused thumb brushing away a solitary tear from the apple of your cheek. You flinched at the contact, not expecting him to touch you so intimately. As quick as he was to make contact, so was he able to let his hand fall back to his side, leaving you wide-eyed at the act. 

“Let me give you a ride home, please,” he asked, his voice so quiet, so compassionate that you were honestly dumbfounded that this was a biker in a notoriously revered club standing before you. “I don’t want you to have to walk back when you’re upset like this.”

You glanced down the sidewalk, knowing you still had a few miles to go before you’d see your house in the distance. You sniffed again, “You won’t try to propose to me again, will you?”

“No strings attached, I promise,” he replied quietly. 

You relented, nodding slightly, and you didn’t protest when he slid his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together and gently tugged you back to his bike. 

******

Benny drove slowly back to your house, and you just buried your face against his jacket the entire ride, focusing on the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. It gave you time to settle your breathing, to dry your tears, and when he finally did pull up to your house, a disappointed wave surfaced over you. He put both feet down to balance you both, but he didn’t cut the engine, and you didn’t release your arms from around his torso.

“Can we . . . keep going?” you asked hesitantly, unsure of just how patient he was willing to be with you.

“You wanna keep going?” he questioned over his shoulder, and you responded with a brief nod. “Where?”

“Anywhere, just not here.”

He pushed off the ground, revving the engine slightly and the bike picked up speed as you left your neighborhood. You tightened your grip as he drove you out of the city, down the long country roads, past barns and farms, out by the lake and through the winding back roads which cut the woods. He drove until the sun began to make its descent over the far wheat fields, the last warmth of those golden rays catching the two of you like a spotlight, like you were the only two people on stage. And you realized that’s what riding with Benny felt like: solidarity together. You’ve felt a strange sense of loneliness most of your life, even when you were surrounded by others who loved you, but with Benny . . . it was like you were finally being seen. No, not just seen, it was like you were finally being heard. 

But reality came back too quickly when Benny pulled up to a stop light, hand moving to brush across yours as he asked, “You ready to go back now or d’you wanna keep going?”

Keep going, your heart wanted to shout, keep going and let’s drive until we hit the sandy beaches of California. But your head always won the battle in the end, and you only nodded mutely. 

When Benny pulled up in front of your house again, he cut the engine, but remained seated. He held his hand out for you as you dismounted, and he wanted to say something – anything– to make sure that you were okay, to help you. But Benny’s not known for his good communication skills so he clenched his jaw tightly, frustration building in his chest. You needed him, you needed to be consoled, and he was so pathetic that he wasn’t even sure how. 

Sure, he knew how to have someone’s back, especially in a fight. He knew how to throw punches and get back to his feet after getting knocked down. He could do that all day. But you staring at him with your Bambi eyes and heartbroken expression, he couldn’t take it. He just wanted to pull your tiny frame to him and kiss away the tears, to tell you that everything would be okay because he’s got your back. Then a horrible thought clouded his mind because what if he was the reason you were crying? A bitter taste filled his mouth at the possibility. And my god, how stupid could he be because of course he had to dig himself deeper into that hole when he had told you that he wouldn’t apologize for his conversation with your date. At the time he said it, he had no guilt or shame for his actions because he saw nothing wrong with it. He wanted you more than Pete did, he was sure of that. But now as he glanced at your sweet face, he realized that his actions could have hurt you. And all for what – his pride? That seemed so insignificant now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said ever-so-politely. 

Before you could turn to walk to your front porch, Benny’s hand reached out to lightly touch your own, and he blurted out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to Pete. That was wrong, and I see that now. I’m sorry if what I did has hurt you in any way, that was never my intention.”

Your frown deepened, and Benny’s heart sank. But then you said, “I’m not upset with you, Benny, but thank you. That . . . that means a lot to me.”

He was at a loss for words, struck by your angelic voice and unwavering benevolence. He could only watch as you slipped from his grasp and turned away. You were walking away from him, but Benny couldn’t help but feel it meant something more than just putting physical distance between you. His mind raced with thoughts, trying to find something he could say to get you to stop, to be able to see your face again. 

However, it seemed that fate had other plans because you halted in your tracks, hesitating a moment before spinning back around and approaching him again. He opened his mouth to ask if you were okay, but you cut him off as you leaned up and planted a quick kiss to his cheek. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle touch of your soft lips, and he widened his eyes as you pulled back, a shy smile on your face. He grinned because every time he thought he had you figured out, you continued to pull stunts on him. You were the most entertaining thing he knew. 

You took a few steps backwards, but maintained his eye contact as you spoke, “Maybe . . . next time we could go a little faster?”

He knew you were referring to the bike, but God help him because heat burned in his lower belly, and he wanted to pick you up over his shoulder and carry you into your house where he’d show you just what speed he was capable of. He wasn’t sure you even knew what effect your words had on him, or if you even knew the sexual implications, but he felt himself losing a battle of will. “You want there to be a next time?”

You nodded and that adorable rosy color tinted your cheeks. “Yeah, if-if you do.”

He shook his head in disbelief that you were finally giving him a chance. Though looking at your sweet smile now, he didn’t seem to mind the extra effort he had to put in. “You wanna go fast? Look who’s the trouble now.”

You fought to control your smile. “Goodnight, Benny.”

“Night,” he replied as he watched you walk back up the steps to your house, his fingers ghosting over the spot on his cheek that you kissed, wondering if apologies were really that easy. 

-Tag List-

@elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love e @ironmooncat @imusicaddict @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twistedunivers5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @pao-prazz @thedreamingfish99 @mrsalwayswrite

[fallingdownhell]

Hi it's me again 😅

Is it okay if I request something very specific and angry cause I'm bad at writing fanfics.

Well if it's okay could you do a Ayato x Reader

«Where Reader is in an arrangement marriage with Ayato but despite this fact she somehow ended up falling in love with him. But for Ayato the Marriage was nothing other than a political stunt. So when you get a sickness you keep it a secret from him until Thoma had a enough tells Ayato but before Ayato could rescue you, you had already succumbed the illness. And lay on the floor in your own pool of blood. That was the day Ayato regretted he's life decisions the most. Had he just listened to he's heart instead of his brain, just maybe you would have told him»

Is this too much to ask?

Of course! I'm so sorry I'm so late with your request. Still hope that it's what you imagined it to be. Pairing: Ayato x Reader Content: female reader; arranged marriage; unhappy marriage; Hanahaki AU; blood; major character death; unhappy ending (if I forgot to mention something, please tell me and I'll add it!) Word count: 2,1k words Requested by: @smaika Hope you enjoy<3

Catching your breath again, you stare down at the bloodied tissue in your hands, mind empty.

It's gotten even worse now. The petals, that were smeared with blood, were now also accompanied by a few thornes scattered here and there.

Now you knew where that scratchy and uncomfortable feeling in your throat came from, at least. It was those thornes, most likely.

With shaking hands, you grab the headboard of the bed, sitting down on the bed while you try to calm yourself down again. The coughing fit has gone by, but there was still blood dripping from your lips. At least you didn't stain the bed sheets, or it would probably have rosen suspicion from the housekeepers.

It has been a few weeks now since this whole thing has started. It began with just a general feeling of getting sick. Just some slight nausea and a sore throat, nothing to wrack your brain too hard about. But then the coughing started, and nothing, no medicine or whatever else you tried seemed to help against it.

And then the blood and flower petals came into the mix. When you coughed up the first red petal, you instantly realized what it was you were suffering through. Coincidentally, that was also the moment when Thoma walked in on you and figured it out, as well.

He had been worried sick about you, seeing as you didn't seem to get better at all. That day, he returned from the city with a new medicine he had planned on giving to you, but when he walked in and saw you, hunched over the sink in the bathroom, blood and bloodied petals in there, it didn't take him long to figure it out.

He was already halfway out the room, hellbent on telling the Master of the estate, and your husband. But you begged him not to, pleaded to him to keep it between the two of you.

Thoma did not understand your reasoning behind this request, but he saw the desperation behind your eyes, and he just couldn't bring himself to act against your wishes. Because no matter the professional relationship you two had, you were also friends. And he just couldn't betray a friend like that.

So he reluctantly agreed, promising you not to tell a word about this to Ayato. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't still go out and try to find a cure for you.

And here you were now, weak and sick, sitting on the bed you shared with your husband and contemplating how you got to this point in your life. But deep down, you already knew how this all came to be, and also, how this whole thing would end..

Your marriage with Ayato was by far not the happy fairytale you had always dreamed it would be. The arrangements of the marriage had been taken care of years prior, without any of you two having a say in it in the first place.

You did only get to meet Ayato a total of three times before you were married of to him. And despite all those facts, you couldn't bring yourself to mind it all that much. The Ayato you got to know over the course of those few meetings was a kind and gentle one, respectful of your wishes, although a bit too caught up in matters of work and politics.

It didn't take much for you to actually fall in love with him. A few nice words and compliments from him, a nice gesture there and you were head over heels for him. And then seeing how kindly he treated his staff and his sister only sealed the deal for you.

You couldn't wait to get married to him and recieving that same loving and respectful treatment from him as his wife, looking forward to the days that would be ahead of you, together with him by your side as your husband.

What you didn't expect however, was the complete turn he did one the marriage ceremony was dealt with.

Every time you tried to engage in conversation with him, trying to get to know your husband better, he would shut you down or just flat out ignore you. Every time you tried to touch him, even as innocent as laying a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, he would push you away from him.

You were attending social events with him, though he never held your hand and didn't bother to keep you around him. You slept in the same room together, in the same bed even, and he has never made a move on you even once this entire time.

Often times, he comes to bed long after you've already fallen asleep and is already awake again by the time you get up in the morning. At first you brushed it off as him being crowded with work, or even a bit shy about this new arrangement. However, since his behaviour towards you never changed, you couldn't help but begin to think that there was an actual intent behind it. Wether that was because he didn't like this marriage, or you specifically, you couldn't tell, because he wouldn't talk to you.

But you were certain that those events are what led you to your current situation at hand.

Hanahaki disease..

A disease stemming from unrequitted love towards another person. One that would kill the affected person if those feelings were not returned.

No one really knows how this disease came to be and there wasn't really much that could be done about it, either. Once affected with it, there were only really a few ways to handle this situation.

One. You could simply do nothing at all, but that would lead to your certain death.

Two. There were surgeries available, though these procedures are still very much experimental, and a huge side effect would be loosing any and all feelings towards the person that the affected one had feelings for in the first place.

Or three. You could tell Ayato about your predicament. But knowing him by now, he wouldn't care about it, which would only result in you nearing your end sooner.

You appreciated Thoma for going out there and trying to find some form of other cure, but you and him were both well aware that there wasn't any. He was reaching for solutions that just weren't there.

You had briefly considered the option of undergoing such an experimental surgery, but ultimately decided against it. It just didn't feel right to you, staying married to a man that you wouldn't feel anything for. No joy, happiness, sadness.. nothing. But, were you really ready to give your life for him...?

A moment later, your train of thoughts got interrupted by the opening door of your bedroom, a familiar blonde head poking through the opening. You looked at Thoma, who carefully entered the room and closed the door behind him, kneeling down in front of you.

He looked at the bloodied tissue in your hands, noticing the thornes mixed in there.

"It got worse..", were his quietly spoken words. You couldn't muster a respone, only a small, weak nod. Thoma then gently pulled the tissue from your graps, throwing it in the trash, before he returned to your side.

"I'll help you lay down. You need to rest, (Name)."

You just nodded again, not having the energy to argue with him right now. He helped you to lay down on the bed, a warm hand brushing over your forehead and almost immediately after that, you blacked out from pure exhaustion.

........

Thoma has had enough. He had no idea why you were so hellbent on not telling Ayato about your condition, but he couldn't take it anymore. Even if it meant breaking his promise to you, he could no longer just stand by and watch his friend wither away and die while he could do nothing about it.

If there was a chance that all this could be fixed, he just had to take the risk now. He's waited far too long already, the guilt eating away at him more and more with each passing day.

Quick, determined footsteps echoed from the halls as the blonde aimed for the office of the head master of the Yashiro commission, knowing that he usually locks himself in there the entire day to get his work done.

Out of pure politeness, Thoma still knocked, though he did not wait for an answer from his Lord this time around. Instead, he swiftly opened the door and entered the room, quickly closing the door behind him again as to not cause too much attention from the other staff.

Ayato, sitting at his table, hunched over many papers, did not even look up when the blonde went and stood right in front of the desk.

"Did something important come up, Thoma?", he asks, though the tone in his voice is void of any actual interest in his answer.

"Yes, my Lord. It's about (Name)."

At this, Ayato sighed heavily, dropping his pen and squinting his eyes, rubbing his temples like the topic brought him great pain.

"Look, I know what you want to say, but we've been over this. It was an arranged marriage that was mutually agreed upon by both our parents. Just because she's my wife does not mean-!"

"She's dying, Ayato!", Thoma interrupted him and that sentence quickly shut the Commissioner up. Would he not have been so shocked over the statement itself, he would have been shocked about the untypical rude behaviour displayed by Thoma right now.

"..What do you mean by that?", he asked instead after a few beats of pure silence, in which Ayato tried to comprehend what was just said to him.

"Exactly that. (Name) is dying if you don't get up and finally talk to them about everything. I know you like to tell yourself that you don't feel anything for her and that you're keeping her out of things, but you're just making it worse for her.

I.. I don't think she can make it much longer."

Ayato wanted to laugh. Surely, this was all just a cruel joke the both of you decided to play on him, maybe your newest strategie to get him to pay attention to you. But this is Thoma standing in front of him. He doesn't joke about this kind of stuff.

Realizing now how dire the situation must be, Ayato quickly got up and headed towards your shared bedroom, where Thoma told him you were resting at the moment. The sooner he got this all handled with, the better.

Soon after, he stood infront of the bedroom door, gently knocking on it. He didn't want to startle you in case you were still sleeping in there. When no response came, he gently slid the door open, only to freeze in shock because of the scene that played out in front of him.

There you were, laying on the floor, your body pale and almost lifeless, as a puddle of blood was next to your head, blood still dripping from your lips.

"(Name)!" Without even realizing what he was doing at first, Ayato rushed right over to your side, turning you to your back. When you didn't show any reaction however, he began shouting for help while tears began to form in his eyes..

This couldn't be happening..

Not like this...

He didn't even notice when Thoma and a bunch of other people, who had also heard his desperate shouting, entered the room. They were gathering around you, Thoma frantically dropping down and searching for a pulse from you.

And Ayato knew..

He knew that you were gone, even before he saw that sad look in Thoma's eyes and the slow, little, almost unnoticable shake of his head.

But... this had to have been just a dream, right? A nightmare, that he's going to wake up from soon.

Surely, this wasn't really happening... he couldn't just have lost you like this..

He thought he was doing the right thing by keeping you at a distance, keeping you out of the dangers that dealing with certain people does involve. He didn't want for you to corrupt like him, to stay your pure and unapologetically kind self.

To know now that this was the wrong decision, that he basically killed you himself...

He should have just induldged you, talked to you, treating you like he should have, like you really were his wife..

Maybe then all of this wouldn't have happened..

Maybe then, you'd still be alive right now...

But now it's too late. And all he could do right now, is to hold you in his arms, right here with Thoma, and mourn the way things went...

[candycandy00]

someone said filthy and raunchy reqs for ume???? say no more !! what abt both of you eating at pothros and this random guy gives you his number, now ume isn’t used to this as everyone knows you’re bofurin’s leader gf, and at first he’s confused so he doesn’t react jealous, so that somehow makes you feel uneasy, like, why isn’t he getting jealous??

anddd when you both get home, he pushes you against the wall and absolutely PROVES how jealous he is and how disrespected he feels that you think he didn’t care enough 👀 so he shows you he does care ANSBDNFNS i’m such a sucker for him.

thank you so much in advance, if you do this req!!! 🤍✨ if not, thanks either way jsjs!

Lose Your Composure - An Umemiya x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Rough sex. Fem Reader. Ume is in his 20’s here! Divider by @benkeibear. Any and all feedback is adored!

You blink up at the man holding out a napkin to you, a series of digits scrawled on the paper. Making no move to take it, you glance over at your boyfriend for his reaction. 

Umemiya is looking at the man with the same confused expression you’re wearing. 

You laugh nervously. “Uh, I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend,” you say, gesturing toward the very tall and recognizable man sitting beside you at the table. 

Honestly, what is this guy thinking? He’s been staring at you from the counter ever since he walked in. Does he not know who Umemiya is? And even if he somehow doesn’t, how brazen do you have to be to give your number to a woman while she’s sitting with another man?

He’s still holding it out to you. “Take it anyway,” he says with a smarmy grin. “You might get tired of this guy sooner than you think.”

You narrow your eyes. You were trying to be polite at first, but this guy is pushing it! “I’m not interested,” you say with a firm tone. 

The stranger shrugs and finally pulls his hand back, shoving the crumpled napkin into his pocket and walking out of Pothos. 

You sigh and look over at Ume, curious to see his reaction, but he’s already gone back to eating his food, a pleasant smile on his face. 

Damn. You were sort of hoping for something else. 

You’ve never seen Ume jealous before. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing you surrounded by other guys, and those guys are his friends who would never dream of being inappropriate with you. To be honest, you’d like to see him get a little possessive, just once. You love that he trusts you and respects you, and you love how sweet he is, but is it wrong to want to see your boyfriend a little jealous? A little riled up? 

Just the thought has you getting heated. You’ve never seen Ume in a fight before, though you know he’s strong. He’s made sure to never expose you to violence, and you appreciate his efforts. But it also means you’ve never seen him being serious or angry. You’ve been together for months now, and you’ve only managed to catch brief glimpses of his firm, dominant side. It peeks out every so often in the bedroom, so quick you almost miss it, and always followed by an apologetic look from him. 

Once it was his hand on your head while you were sucking him off, pressing your head down just before cumming in your mouth. Another time it was him gripping your wrists above your head while you laid on your back, his body above yours. He’d seemed to feel guilty about those instances, but you found them extremely hot. 

Now, you were expecting him to have some sort of reaction to a random guy hitting on you right in front of him, but he didn’t. He didn’t even seem to care.  

You finish your meal in silence, occasionally nodding along as your boyfriend talks about his garden or the crazy antics his friends got into today. You’re not mad, but you are a bit disappointed, and you’re afraid that will be obvious if you speak too much. 

After leaving Pothos, Ume walks you back to your apartment. He practically lives here too, but he hasn’t mentioned staying over tonight. Usually he just does as he pleases, so it’s not like he needs an invitation. Still, he seems a little awkward as the two of you ride the elevator up to your floor. Has he noticed the shift in your mood? 

“Is everything alright?” he asks as you step out of the elevator. 

“It’s fine,” you say as you make your way down the hall, digging your key out of your bag. The response came out a bit sharper than you’d intended. 

“Are you upset?” 

The question makes you feel a surge of guilt. Ume has done nothing wrong. But you still feel the way you feel. You should at least explain that. 

You stop in front of your door, unlocking and opening it. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you say, “I’m not upset. I just expected you to have a bigger reaction to that guy trying to give me his number. It almost feels like you don’t care if other guys hit on me.”

Walking inside and dropping your bag and keys on a nearby table, you still don’t look at him. You hear Ume follow you in and shut the door behind him. When you flick on the light and finally turn to face him, your blood turns to ice. 

Your sweet, adoring boyfriend who is always smiling at you, who always looks at you with the kindest expressions, now looks like an entirely different person. His smile is nowhere to be found, his lips a hard line. There’s a fiery intensity to his eyes that almost scares you, a look in them that you’re certain has made many men quiver in fear. Before you is not your doting lover. It’s the Bofurin boss that has crushed every enemy who dared to challenge him. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Ume?”

He doesn’t say anything, only moves toward you at a speed you didn’t think possible and presses your back against the wall. Not hard, but firm. 

You look up as he towers over you, his big hands on the wall beside your head. Looking down at you, a few strands of hair slide down around his eyes, and you feel like a helpless little bug. 

“H-Hajime?” You don’t call him by that name often, so used to calling him Ume even before you started dating. His eyes seem to glimmer when he hears it. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been holding back?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically low. “How much I wanted to break that asshole’s neck for even looking at you? How I wanted to take you right there on the table so the whole town knows I’m the only one who can touch you?”

Your heart is racing, your breaths coming quicker as you stare up at him. You’re already getting wet. 

“And you think I don’t care?” His voice goes even deeper as he leans in, his beautiful face tantalizingly close to yours. “I’ll show you how much I care.”

He kisses you, not in the usual sweet and gentle way, but with his mouth claiming yours, stealing your breath, his tongue pushing in to taste you. 

Your arms automatically move to encircle his neck as you kiss him back, suddenly feeling like all these clothes you’re both wearing are in the way. He fixes that quickly, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the ground, then tearing your clothes off so aggressively, he rips your pretty new underwear. 

This is a side you’ve never seen of him. And when he pulls his white T-shirt over his head and looks at you with that burning expression, his hair slightly disheveled, you nearly buckle right there. 

You stand on your tiptoes, leaning up to kiss him again, but he suddenly grabs your shoulders and turns you around to face away from him. You hear him unbuckle his belt, then he’s pressing your upper half against the wall, slightly bending you over, and forcefully spreading your legs. 

His fingers slide down, dipping between your slick folds, feeling how absolutely drenched you are. When he finds your clit, circling and rubbing it with one finger, you moan against the wall. 

He leans over you, his bare, toned chest pressing into your naked back, and says, “That fucker at Pothos put me in a bad mood. You’re gonna have to fix that.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Ume rarely ever uses coarse language, at least in front of you. To hear him saying such things right in your ear as he plays with your throbbing clit is driving you mad. 

“Now spread wider and take my cock,” he says, nearly pushing you over the edge.  

You scoot your feet a little wider apart, as much as you can with your legs trembling, and then his hands are on your hips, grip firm, holding you in place. You gasp as you feel his entire length shove inside you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you to your limit. 

Before you can even adjust to his massive cock, his hands lift your lower half up, so that your legs are dangling above the floor, your upper half wedged against the wall. And just like that, he takes you. His thrusts are deep, powerful, making your helpless body jerk with each one. 

You whimper out his name as your hands press into the wall, trying to take pressure off your face. You were already on the edge of climax before he even started fucking you, now you’re about to explode with pleasure as your kind boyfriend rails you. 

Is this even Ume? The difference in his very aura makes you shudder with delight. How did he figure out this is what you’ve been craving? 

He slams in deep, hitting a sensitive spot that makes you crumble. Your orgasm ripples through you, bringing tears to your eyes as you moan incoherently. Your hands lose all strength and slip from the wall. You think you’re going to fall, but then Ume’s strong arms wrap around your torso, holding you up. The embrace is gentle, even as he continues pounding you with his cock, and you can feel his overwhelming love radiating through his arms, through his heartbeat against your back. 

Then, he stiffens inside you, pushing in so deep it feels like he’s inside your womb before shooting his thick, hot cum into your core. He stays buried that way, still holding you close, until he’s completely empty. Then he gently pulls out and sits you back on your feet. 

Your legs feel like they’re made of spaghetti as you struggle to turn around and look at him. He’s panting, his face red, his hair wet with sweat. And he’s wearing that cute apologetic expression. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, his voice sounding almost sheepish. 

You feel like laughing, but you don’t have the energy. Instead you collapse against his chest. “Ume, you just made me cum harder than I ever have in my life.”

His hands are rubbing your back. “So… you liked that? Me being more forceful?” 

You look up at him. “Yes, but not all the time. I don’t think I could handle that every night!”

He bends down slightly and scoops you up in his arms. “I just wanted to show you how I felt. When that guy offered you his number, I saw red. But I try to keep my composure in front of you. I don’t wanna scare you away.”

You lean up to kiss his cheek. “Every now and then it’s exciting to see you lose your composure,” you say as he carries you toward the bathroom. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with his sweet smile. 

[inkdrinkerworld]

what about… soft!dom!remus and reader that lovesssss getting her hair played with? But she feels bad asking? So she tries to put her head in Remus lap, or she sits on the floor in front of Remus that’s sitting on a chair/couch? But Remus realizes what she’s trying to do and starts slowly playing with readers hair and he says something like ‘you can always just ask me to play with your hair’ but reader just gets embarrassed that he realized because she wants him to play with her hair because HE wants to, not because she asked? And Remus plays with her hair and massages her head just because he knows how good it makes reader feel! He just loves to see the expression of bliss on readers face 🫶

And maybe at some point she moans by accident and she gets all red and Remus just smirks ‘are you okay lovely? anything you want to tell me’🤭👀 because I’m convinced reader would have a hand kink-

THANK YOUU!! I love all your soft!remus fanfic 🫶Have a good day/night!! Sending lots of love 💕

-☀️

Have a good day/night yourself love you<3

Remus noticed the habit by the second time you’d sat on the floor between his legs and laid your head on his thigh.

It wasn’t hard to pick up on, you’re his girlfriend and he tends to know everything you like and everything you don’t.

You do it again when you get home from work and pull your hair from its ponytail after a shower.

Remus is reading, and instead of throwing yourself across his lap, you sit between his legs on the floor.

The movement catches his eye, looking up at you briefly as you lay your head on his thigh.

He doesn’t bring his hand to your head immediately. Remus waits until you seem to have settled before letting the pads of his fingers take through your hair.

He takes care not to tug and tangle any of your hair, fingers combing gently through.

Your entire body sags as Remus trails his fingers over your scalp, a sort of relief and relaxation that you only get from this.

He smiles when he catches your eyes fluttering closed, eyelashes kissing the skin right under your eyes.

“You know you can just ask me and I’ll do it, right dove?” He murmurs, voice hardly above a whisper lest he disturb the serenity of your living room.

“Mm,” your cheeks heat, you turn your face into his knee not wanting him to see the embarrassment creeping up your face.

Remus chuckles when he realises, bending a little to kiss your head as he carries on scratching your head.

“I don’t want to make you do it.” You find your voice but it’s still a whisper and a bit hard to understand.

Remus rolls his eyes. His considerate girl. His lovely overthinker too. “You’re not making me, I like doing it because it makes you feel nice.”

You tip your head back, looking at him upside down and giving him a sheepish smile.

“You’re sure?”

Remus laughs, the scars on his face stretching and glittering under the light shining through the living room.

“Yes, lovely girl.” He tugs at a bit of your hair, smiling even wider when you whine and then smack your hands over your mouth. “You’re adorable.”

You lay your head down on his thigh again, fiddling with your fingers as Remus continues combing through your hair as you relax.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: The Ones who got away.

A fic based off results for Funniest reason Bruce knew Danny

Bruce Wayne can still clearly remember the day he first met Daniel Fenton. It was while the two were at Gotham Acadamy, when Bruce was still steaming with rage and plans of vengence.

Daniel—or Danny to his friends—had moved to Gotham midway through Danny's sophomore year from a small town in Illinois.

Bruce was a year younger but was the only one around when Danny stumbled into the main office trying to find his classes. Apparently, the student assigned to give him a tour had only bothered passing along his schedule and letting him lose.

Bruce was supposed to be waiting for Alfred to pick him up (he thinks it was because he got into a fight or maybe someone tried to make fun of his parents? Bruce wasn't too sure) but figured walking the older boy to class was so much more enjoyable, especially with how cagy Danny seemed to be.

As they walked, Bruce could tell Danny came from a lower-class family. He may have been wearing Gotham Acadamy's uniform, but the fit was wrong. The cloth that made up his blazer pulled around his shoulders tightly and ended too far down his forearm. His pants were too long for his legs and held in place by a very determined belt. His shoes lacked the everyday shine and were scruffy from the mud.

None of that was overly obvious but to a school full of Gotham elities they could catch it at first glance. Bruce pointed it out, asking if he had gotten them from the donated box.

He hadn't meant it as an insult. Bruce was genuinely curious, but Danny took it as such. Before he could even blink, Danny had rounded on him and snared in his face.

"You got a problem with that!?"

"No," Bruce answered promptly, stunned by Danny's glowing eyes. He could have sworn they were glowing. A strage emotion started to grow in his chest as Danny crowed him more against the wall.

He would later describe the feeling as "mesmerizing:;" Bruce could not take his eyes off Danny's. "I was just curious."

Danny's eyes seemed to glow even more, casting Bruce's face in an emerald green shine. Or at least that's how Bruce remembered it. Maybe his memories of the encounter were not as reliable as one would hope.

For a moment, Bruce thought Danny would punch him. He hoped he would. Bruce had been so angry as a child after his parents' murders that he would gladly get into any fights at school. He liked it. It made his terrible, horrible thoughts stop when he gave into the rage and the violence.

But Danny didn't do that. Instead the older boy had lean back, closed his eyes and breath a few times though his nose. Then in a very obviously restained voice grunted out "Telling someone that thier clothes looked like it came from a donation box is not okay"

"Why?"

"Ancients, dude. It's rude."

"Why?"

Then, to Bruce's teenage shock, Danny was willing to spend almost an hour with him, explaining why people reacted the way they did to his words. Not even Alfred had been that patient with Bruce. It was the first time someone didn't make him feel terrible for not understanding the human thought process.

(Later when mental health awareness became more spoken about Bruce would learn he was not broken. He was just different. That was years away from this however)

After that, Danny found his class and made a fast friend willing to show him the rest of the way. It should have been their last interaction, and officially it was, but Bruce could not stop thinking of Daniel Fenton with his glowing eyes and strange restraint rage.

Bruce remembered that he got into fewer fights around that time. Alfred was overjoyed. He refrained from telling the aged butler that it was not because he had outgrown his urge for combat but because he was too busy sprinting as fast as he could across the campus between classes in hopes of catching a glimpse of Danny. They were in different years, classes, and lunch times and ran through different circles.

The two rarely crossed paths.

But that didn't stop Bruce from wanting to see him. He just wanted to see if the glowing eyes were real or just a trick of his young—and smitten—mind.

This was long before Batman, which means Bruce wasn't as sneaky as he thought. In fact, by the end of Danny's second month at Gotham the older boy had developed a sense of Bruce's lurking.

Danny could pick him out in a crowd no matter where he was. It would have been thrilling if the rest of the student body hadn't noticed.

Danny being from a poor family, only attending Gotham Acadamy through scholarship, singled him out. Bruce Wayne- the school madman- following him around only made things worse for Danny.

Before long bullies rounded around the transfer, and while things rarely got physical it didn't mean that they made things easy for Danny. He gain a school nickname, whispered between laughter and mocks when the teachers' backs were turn.

Freaky Fenton.

Danny obviously thought Bruce had something to do with this; after false rumors of Bruce being the one to start that horrid nickname, whatever goodwill the older boy held for him soured. Bruce tried so hard to explain that it wasn't him, but rumors spiraled faster than he could keep up and soon Danny hated the very sight of him.

Danny would respond with harsh hisses whenever he tried to approach the boy. It was a bit shocking to hear such a sound come out of a boy so pretty—and pretty he was. By the time they graduated, Danny had left the Academy as " best-looking."

It was the kind of sound Bruce would find in a snake or a feral cat. He quickly backed away, unsure why that sound made his heart race. Danny took it as a surefire way to get rid of Bruce.

Over the following three years, he would be subjected to Danny's hissing. The bullying that Danny suffered through eventually stopped when people grew bored, and when Danny hit a later puberty that made almost everyone choke on their spit.

Bruce was sad that he could only see the other from far away. He eventually had to move on, aware that it would never happen between them. Danny graduated and returned to Amity Park, Illinois, vanishing from Bruce's life.

That's when Bruce met Harvey Dent. The two grew to be fast friends and shared a desire to better Gotham. They became fast friends at their college orientation after noticing they were each wearing a "just donated" sticker for the blood drivethat same morning.

Bruce and Harvey were inseparable, where one was, and the other was not too far away. Life was full of comfortable company, able to get excited about things without having to wear a mask and exploring the world to all the wonderful new horizans Harvey showed him.

His friend believed in wonder and spontaneous adventure that blended well with Bruce's careful planning and weariness. Eventually, they even moved into the same dorm because they practically already did with how often they spent the night in each other's place.

They went through their basics, cheered when they got accepted into law and medical school, and spent every holiday at each other's hips. Harvey was the first person Bruce told he may be attracted to boys (even before Alfred), and Bruce was the only one who knew why Harvey woke up in a cold sweat, a scream in the back of his throat, and the wild, untrusting looks he gave alcoholics.

Harvey was the light to Bruce's darkness. Unsurprisingly, he gave in to the urge to hold that light one night and leaned over to press his lips against Harvey's. His friend had sighed against his lips and pressed back, muttering about wanting to do so since the first time he saw Bruce.

When this happened, the public wasn't the most accepting, so Bruce and Harvey kept their romance confined in their dorm, but it was the happiest he ever felt. Harvey, because a love affair of this kind could ruin any chances he had to crawl out of the hole his dysfunctional family put him in, and Bruce's status would plummet if the newspapers ever caught wind, making his company lose thousands.

They both agreed it was better to be friends with benefits. A secret.

Harvey was almost worth delaying his training and not becoming Batman. Almost.

Bruce's mission, however, could not be stopped, and with a heavy heart, he dropped out of medical school and ended the secret with Harvey. Two hearts broke that day, Bruce's for leaving and Harvey's for not asking him to stay.

His training took him out of the USA, but he would fly back between masters to check up on Alfred and Harvey. Life went on, and Harvey continued to awe his classmates with his sharp mind and top grades. Alfred kept Wayne Manor in order, waiting for him, and Bruce studied everything he could get his hands on in preparation for Gotham's justice.

Then he met the Al Ghuls, and all his visits were gone. Thankfully, he was allowed to send and receive letters once a month. According to his postcards, his friend had gotten a new roommate—one who was just as kind and as great a friend to Harvey.

Bruce had no right, but a part of him ached that Harvey may have found a new secret—someone to curl against with the radio playing softly in the background, someone who would enjoy Harvey's amazing cooking.

Then he realized that it was for the best. He wished them well.

When his training ended two years later, Harvey was in his final year at Law school. He still lived with that same roommate, and so Bruce figured he might as well stop for a visit.

Batman was set to debut that weekend. He wanted one last hurrah before he sold his soul to the city.

His heart fell to his knees when Daniel Fenton opened the door to Harvey's dorm with a smile. Apparently, he had returned from Amity and was also seeking a law degree.

He was Harvey's new Secret. It was easy to tell with the way they danced around each other, and what was worse was that Danny didn't recognize him until Harvey had yanked him inside with a cheer of his name.

"What a small word" Danny laughed. "Can't believe you know my high school Not-Bully"

"Daniel, I never-" Bruce starts, knowing Harvey's eyes have narrowed. He has never been one for bullies.

"I know," Danny cuts him off with a small apologetic smile. "I know that now, Bruce. I'm sorry I was a dick to you in high school. I should have verified where those stupid rumors came from, but school was tough."

"Yeah, poor Bruce always puts his foot in his mouth." Harvey laughs, punching his arm. For a moment, it feels like no time has passed, but then Harvey pulls away to wrap an arm around Fenton's waist.

Danny's eyes widened in shock, but Harvey calmed him down by explaining that Bruce was like them. Blue eyes- blue, weren't they green in Bruce's memories?- warmed and dinner is served.

Dinner is great—so great that Bruce comes back the next day and the next and the next, and then he suddenly spends far too much time at their dorm.

He can't help it; Bruce Wayne was never known for having self-control. But like walking around with broken bones from his nighttime activities, he learns to grind his teeth and bear through the pain.

Harvey and Danny will buy a house together in the meantime.