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screampied · 3 months

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ʚ MAMA I’M IN LOVE WITH 2 CRIMINALS ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you had one job. interrogate two felonious criminals, not screw them both. but it’s a friday night and what happens in the interrogation room stays in the interrogation room, right? wrong.

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, criminals sukuna ryomen x toji fushiguro, unprotected, thrēesome, tatted toji, manhandling, choking, dirty talk, double penn + cowgirl dp, praise, spıt roasting, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), gunplay, spıt, brēeding, implied multiple rounds, nıpple play, overstim, dumbificaiton, they’re kinda fruity

wc. 6.4k

“you’re avoiding the question.” you utter with a vexed scoff.

these two, sukuna ryomen and toji fucking fushiguro. sleazy infamous criminals notoriously known within the city with a staggering criminal record underneath their belts. they were a duo, the duo. everyone knows—where there’s sukuna, there’s toji. constantly always in and out of prison as if life was a mere game to them, a mere joke. your patience continues to run thin the more you stare at them blankly. those unfazed eyes, those smirks, they didn’t take you seriously, especially with how easy on the eyes you were. you almost stammer over your words before peering back at toji. “my eyes are up here. quit wasting my time.”

“easy, girl. we already told ya we didn’t do it,” toji brings two hands up to his chest with a sly smirk, pretending to be offended. he sat right beside sukuna, both in the same orange undifferentiated jumpsuits. “besidesss,” and he leans up close to you, sliding a tongue against his slanted fabled scar. “for a detective you’re pretty shit at your job. where’s the eye contact, love?”

“yo toji don’t piss her off,” sukuna cackles with his arms crossed. he leans against the steel chair, taking in your entire frame. as much as you could give them both an annoyed glower, toji was right. you were one of the if not the best local detective in your city, yet with these two, you were slacking in everything. you could barely stare into their eyes without looking away, embarrassingly fumbling over your words, a mess. sukuna hums in amusement, cocking a brow upwards. “but y’know, detective. it is kind of hard to confess our crimes when ya look this good on a friday night.”

the compliment immediately catches you off guard. the air suddenly grows thick. you’re squeezing your legs shut tight - the stretchy fabric of your tucked fishnets glues against your skin before you clear your throat.

“i know what you’re doing. ‘s not gonna work.” but who were you kidding, just a single comment as that had you all hot and bothered. questioning one criminal was one thing, but two at the same time was another. you didn’t know how you were gonna get through the night. inside the dim lit interrogation room, it was quite spacey. luckily, it was pretty late at night so your superiors had left you alone to close. you insisted you’d question them then take them back to the station yourself. although, that certainly wasn’t the plan.

the brick walls were rustic, it grew very quiet the moment you trailed off your words. the silence was almost deadly, so deadly that you could practically hear a pin drop. sukuna and toji, they were infamous for their crimes—burglaries, robberies, to keep it short, they weren’t exactly good guys.

with a quick scratch toward his ripped pecs, toji glances around the room. sharp verdant hooded eyes gawk near the glass viewing window directly before he snickers. “saaaay,” he hums in a gruff tone, lazily slouching back against his seat. “how ‘bout ya take these handcuffs off ‘n we’ll tell ya everything ya wanna know.”

“nice try,” you lean up against the table, finally staring right into their eyes - moreso toji. he flashes you a cheeky grin as you inch forward, sukuna keeping his eyes fixated on you also. with a quick glimpse, you peek down at your watch. “seriously, i don’t have all day. i have somewhere to be in a hour, so-”

“hot date?” sukuna raises a brow, his collar from his jumpsuit ruffed out a bit. just that minor detail alone was so attractive. “so that’s why you’re wearing pretty fishnets, mm. lucky guy.”

again—you’re caught off guard. both men stare at you as if they’re trapped inside your thoughts, already knowing what you’re about to say next. just casually reading every single thing that pops into your brain. were you that easy to read? you didn’t actually have a date but you were going out. maybe being all dolled up on the job was a bit unprofessional. sheepishly abashed, you dig the soles of your boot heels into the carpet ground before muttering lowly, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“my personal life isn’t what’s important … here,” and your eyes widen once you see toji with his hands apparently free.

how . . .

your eyes then trail at sukuna who had your handcuff keys right in his palm. sukuna freed his wrists and toji freed himself before the dark haired fugitive stands up to stretch. damn, they just have snuck it when you were fantasizing. again,

“you were saying about y’er personal life?” the pink haired male hums, slowly making his way behind your edge table. you felt cornered— oh, perhaps taking the final shift of the night wasn’t the best idea.

no, it was a horrible idea.

yet, the more they got closer to you, the more you started to feel something … feverish.

suddenly, between your thighs felt hot. with the bare bottoms of your shoes rubbing against your heel, toji cups your chin, staring right into your eyes. sukuna appears behind you, creeping, tossing your documents to the side and you grouse. “you can get in a lot more trouble for touching me, toji,” you utter, both eyes of yours staring intently into his. the eye contact was so intimate — you’ve never had a problem with eye contact until now. his smirk, he brushes a thumb against your bottom lip before scoffing. “s- seriously.”

sukuna’s crimson-red eyes reach towards the side of your hip, you were armed. cute, he hums whilst pondering just what his next step might be before toji cackles.

“okay and,” he purrs, leaning in just a bit deeper. you smelled the scent of alcohol lingering on his tongue. his eye contact was simply alluring, dark viridescent irises pool into yours before he looks at his partner. “heh, ‘kuna. you think we’ll get less probation if we play with the pretty lady for a bit?”

sukuna goes next to you, snatching your pen from you and you gasp once he’s now gripping your entire face. you nearly gnaw on your lip, as you make direct eye contact. his touch was still surprisingly gentle nonetheless.

toji purrs, running a thumb against your skin-tight fishnets. “nah, right pretty girl? you ain’t gonna rat on us, are ya? at least not when you’re this soaked.”

damn,

he was right again. the reason your legs were shut tight was because you were trying oh so desperately to hide the mess right between your thighs. it was embarrassing—the stickiness that presses against your legs has you growing more and more aroused. so unprofessional, you had to keep repeating that in the back of your head. you were soddened, soaking right through your pretty laced panties despite how much you didn’t want to come to terms with your filthy state. you’ve dealt with so many criminals. more than you could count on both fingers, so what made these two any different? you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

anymore,

technically if you wanted to be delusional, you were basically off work. so a little fun wouldn’t matter.

then again, this little stunt would probably cost you your badge.

but screw it.

this kinda thing only happened in movies. and besides, it was only you currently on the clock. no one could even find out … right?

wrong.

you of course weren’t thinking about the future consequences that would creep up to follow you before you found yourself now shamefully on your knees for sukuna. he snickers at you, giving you a brief head pat before dragging your face up to his jeans.

“aw,” he murmurs, and you hear the low rasp of toji’s chuckle behind you. rough hands of his caress against both sides of your ass before pulling up your pencil skirt. you try to turn around but sukuna makes you shift your focus back towards him. “nah, detective. isn’t followin’ instructions part of y’er job? eyes down here..”

with a moan escaping from your throat, sukuna tugs down the lower part of his jumpsuit. the fabric ruffles and you’re met with a big bulge. oh, he was big. your first instinct was to paw at it with your hands, yet sukuna makes you rub your face against it. you can’t help but moan, sticking out your tongue as your face’s being smeared against his bulgy hard-on. “toji, she’s fuckin’ hungry. look at ‘er.”

toji hums, a finger of his trailing against your fishnets. they were skin tight, stuck against your skin like velcro. he groans, feeling the way you teasingly wriggle your ass against him. it was around midnight, surely no one would show up in the interrogation room—

although, the thought of it made you a bit more wet. you couldn’t lie to yourself though, you were familiar with these two criminals. you’d be crazy not to, everyone knew the toji fushiguro and sukuna ryōmen.

the duo,

you saw them all the time on local news. their mugshots would always get leaked. they’d always smile in their shots—gaining so much love from ladies. ironic, they even have fanfictions made about them.

there’s toji with the smug eye half-lidded grin, and then sukuna with the raised chin, natural fang-like teeth and grim annoyed expression.

your job was to question them not to be on your knees, but you weren’t complaining.

“all this ass,” toji snaps you out of your trance, gifting your rear a mean spank. the recoil of it drags you out of your little fantasm before you bite your lip and you’re facing directly forward. “what do ya want princess? want more don’t ya?”

you nod, sukuna’s cupping your chin with a sneer but your ass is only met with another rude smack.

“i- i want you both,” you grumble, toji smugly hums from your cute attitude. he’s taking in all of you — your curves, the cute beige trench coat you had on in an attempt to cover up your secret flashy outfit underneath, all of it. toji was handsy, once he had his hands on your hips, they were glued on. he groans from your answer before a thumb slides against your waist. “please.”

“but detective’s aren’t this dumb are they?” sukuna cranes his head to the right, squeezing both of your cheeks together with one hand. your lips were all glossy. he smears a thumb against them before leaning down to give you a kiss. you moan, kissing back before he pulls away, a lustrous concoction of spit departing from both mouths. “you sure you not gonna rat us out? both our lives are technically in your hands, princess.”

“i’m not gonna t- ah,” you stop to gasp, feeling toji’s bulge rub against you. his grip was delicate, he rubs yourself against him and groans. your arch was cute, bent over the table with your chest pressed against the multitude of paperwork. averting your lewd gaze back up towards sukuna, you loll out your tongue. he looks down, watching you create a snail trail of saliva near the middle part of his bulge. he’s so thick, the fabric tastes cottony against your tongue as you stare up at him. cerulean blue boxers with a tag sticking out from the side, yeah he definitely stole that. sukuna’s still got a grip on your scalp before he ogles at you pulling his boxers down. “s- so big.”

with a fat thumb still pressing down against your bottom lip, he coos out a sly tune. “scared yet?” and you prove him wrong by wrapping a hand around his base but god, he had staggering inches to him. toji’s still behind you and you moan once you feel him bring a wet kiss to your right ass cheek. he gives it a smooch only to spank it yet again, playfully giving it a bite mark. sukuna had just the right amount of curve to him. he’s so heavy that it hangs a bit — a pretty tannish peel of foreskin that you just wanted to run your tongue along. so you do. your mouth starts to gradually water as you inch up closer, and closer . . and closer.

sukuna’s staring at you with ruby red irises. you present his tip with a tiny lick and he grunts, your tongue feeling cold and dampened. “ugh, good girl. this is what that fuckin’ mouth should be used for. not talkin’ people’s ears off.”

his cock had a bit of a beige tan—sliding the top of your tongue against his frenulum, you watch as he grunts. sukuna’s fingers still maintain a firm enough grip against your scalp before you feel toji’s tongue. you whine, feeling the aching sensation of the other criminal propped up behind you preparing for a taste. toji roughly yanks your panties to the side, already pulling down your fishnets before he runs his nose all down your sopping, slick slit. “mhm, ‘kuna she’s already fuckin’ wet. all this time she was tryna get us to confess but her sloppy pussy’s the real culprit.”

rotund fingers of toji’s brush against your folds that were happily presented out to him—you’re facing forward and sukuna grabs ahold of his length. with a big hand, he rubs the tubby fat head of his tip over your face to make you moan before finally putting it in your mouth. he’s lengthy, you knew taking him inside would be quite the literal stretch. the girth too, so delicious. a vein that runs down the side of his shaft pulses in your mouth and you luxuriate in the taste. you hear the faint sound of ruffling behind you and it’s toji fondling with the holster that’s attached to your hip. “m-mhm,” were your muffled babbles, slowly taking every inch of sukuna down your tight throat. up until he’s all the way down, you almost gag whilst toji sneaks your firearm from out of its protective belt.

damn,

not only were you soaking wet for two criminals you were supposed to interrogate, but you were also unarmed.

great,

sukuna grabs a fistful of your hair — slender fingers massaging your scalp before giving it a firm pull. a hand of his claws into your hair, tugging firmly at your roots that cling against your scalp. he gruffly groans at your tongue, watching as your eyes close and your throat’s just so warm. it’s tight, the tense muscles in his and tighten before he slowly starts to drag your head back and forth, “good girl, no more talkin’ yeah,” and he peeks back at toji who’s paying his attention to you from behind. the other criminal’s messy, smearing a thumb down your pulsating clit before sucking it. it’s long, long sluuuurps that makes your muffled moans grow louder. your body shakes vigorously. the unsteady squirms of your body makes toji chuckle and you feel his hot, tempid breath ghost again your folds. you try to turn around but sukuna prevents it, gripping the crown of your head. “nuh uh princess, eyes up here.”

your body’s mixed with so much emotions — the throbbing without you only grows stronger, and as you’re rutting against the table, you hear the loud repetitive creaks. the furniture was wooden and worse for wear, probably over a hundred years old you’d guess. sukuna’s thin nostrils flare up once he meets your gaze, watching your head bob. “mmhh,” you try to speak, but he hums, ruffling your hair.

“don’t try ‘ta speak with your mouth full, baby,” he purrs to you in a rasp, a hand sliding underneath your chin, feeling the saliva trickle its way out the creaks of your lips. “you’re so messy. fuckin’ slobber mouth.”

toji’s practically making out with your cunt, pointed hooked tip of his nose brushing against your opening hood and you moan. he’s so nasty, taking every possible opportunity to spit on your cunt, later lapping it up with his tongue. two broad hands spread your ass open, lolling out his tongue to taste every inch you provided. “mhm,” he groans, occasionally swatting a sharp smack near both templed cheeks of your ass. you weren’t gonna last at all, you knew that. you start to grind against his face and he hums, nibbling against your clit either a sly smile. “thaaaat’s it, fuck back against my face, give it ‘t me,” and your entire body’s shaking. as you throat’s being stuffed, your chest continues to rumble against the cold, slick table.

toji feels your hand sneaking between your pried open thighs before you try to cutely creep and touch yourself. “whore, we don’t do that.” he grumbles, smacking your hand away. you whine, eyes meeting back up at sukuna who shrugs with a grin. his way of telling you, ‘ he’s right. don’t touch yourself. ’

as you taste a bit of pre-cum on your tongue, you lap your twitching moving muscle over sukuna’s slit that runs down his shaft’s head. he hisses, pulling you further onto his cock until he hears a tiny gag. “ooh, ‘m reachin’ the roof, huh,” and it’s so much saliva pouring from your mouth that it’s slithering down the valley of your chest. your legs shiver, feeling the scrap of toji’s scar tickle against your pussy — so good. he purposely rubs against your clit with it, feeling your hips continue to grind further back against his face. “she likes your scar toji, she’s kinky.”

“i know she does,” toji snickers, rubbing his face, smearing it all against your wet cunt. you whimper, faint hairs of his stubble sticking against your skin from the gripping slick. it’s just filthy, his tongue swirls all around your cunt before giving it a sloppy french kiss. you’re so close to the edge, focusing your mouth on sukuna’s cock, mentally pinching yourself because if this was a dream, you didn’t want to ever wake up. toji’s a freak though because you suddenly gasp sharply, feeling his thumb poke its way against your neglected, puckering hole.

“heh, can’t forget about her too.” he gruffly jibes, his tongue flicking towards that same area before shifting back towards your needy cunt. your legs were so jittery, on its last and final hinges before you slide a hand inside your blouse.

“awww,” sukuna teases, watching your face contort into a mixture of pleasure. “someone’s close, huh. you wanna make a mess on that bum’s face, pretty girl?”

“fuck you, man,” toji shoots him a glare before spreading your ass just a bit wider. his long tongue delves between your folds before your back arches against the table. giving your ass one final spank, you end up finishing and it’s so much.

you’re stunned, taken aback as you gush right on his face. his chin was sleek, dripping down with your honeyed juices that he laps clean. you’re a twitching, slobbering mess—frantically heaving through full lungs before many second’s later, your throat’s being poured full of sweltering hot cum. it’s oozing down your throat slowly. you blink twice before even realizing it’s his taste that’s filling up your mouth. sukuna’s meaty thighs tense as he drags you closer toward his cock. your nose bristles against his pink flushed pubes before he continues to dump an entire load right down your now full throat.

“goddamn,” he sucks the air, watching as you swallow without him even having to tell you—you look so pretty, pretty plump lips still sheeny and a few droplets of his seed bedaub against the left side of your cheek. “didn’t know defectives have such a nasty t- throat,” he groans, and that’s when he leans down, pulling you into a sultry, warm kiss. toji rolls his eyes, getting up himself while rubbing his body against your already propped up ass. docile, blown irises remain on sukuna before he squeezes your chin, curling his tongue down your throat. he groans, tasting himself on your mouth, bitterly sweet.

“yeah just forget about me,” toji grimaces, and you feel sukuna’s lips contort into a subtle smile before pulling away. he darkly chuckles, eyeing his partner.

“oh, sweetheart don’t be like that.”

“shut up,” he glares, and you hear a bit of shuffling. toji grabs your firearm and you take a few seconds to catch your breath. slow steady beats, you let off a tiny moan once you feel a smooth yet cold sensation rub against your pussy. shivering, you bite your lip before hearing yourself squelch continuously. “fuck, lemme see how wet you are, doll.”

you let off a tiny moan, feeling toji slowly skim the muzzle against your clit — you pulse from the friction, the criminal slicks a tongue against his scar at the sight. sukuna watches, cupping your chin once more. “wonder what y’r lieutenant might think of you. don’t think this is in a detective’s handbook, is it not?”

“n- no,” you feel a wave of pleasure ripple through you. never in your life have you felt more aroused, toji’s brushing the front part of the gun against your pussy before easing it inside.

easily, you coat it with your previous slick before it starts to slowly shove in. you whine, bringing a hand over your mouth. “mph,” and you hear a low cackle from behind, thighs shaking in pure rapture.

“is she wet enough, ‘toj?” toji hums, giving you another brief head pat.

“yeah, fuckin’ slut made a mess already on the front sight,” he snarls. the tint in his pants growing hard. he pulls it out and already, it’s a slippery sheet of your sweet smearing over your own firearm. dirty thoughts purged your brain, imagining yourself using the exact same weapon on a threat, the same exact weapon that was just shoved deep into your cunt only a second ago.

you were egregiously throbbing and they both couldn’t wait anymore, neither could you. toji takes a seat near one of the steel chairs, sitting manspread. he’s already got his jumpsuit pulled down, burly brawny muscles flexing—a few explicit tattoos painting on both sleeves of his beefy arm. he’s so chiseled, so fucking hot. a big hand rubs his lap before ushering you to sit with a single hand motion. “sit on it,” and a burning heat overtakes you, peering at his thick cock that was stood tall and on display. he was so big, a blushing reddened tip with an even bigger base. toji was thickset, you couldn’t compare the two if you wanted. his neck lowers as you make your way on his lap, straddling him and preparing to align yourself. sopping wet sloshes squelches, you were drooling down from your cunt and right onto the fat tip of his dick. you moan, feeling how he’s slowly entering your heated core.

the stretch was so good — so fucking good.

“fuck, there we go baby. nice ‘n slow, yeah,” and toji catches sukuna staring, an annoyed scowl on his lips. “oh, sweetheart. ‘s someone jealous? why don’t you get in here?”

“tch,” sukuna mumbles, and he goes up behind you. toji’s barely in, halfway, yet it feels like full. you pulsed at the thought of both of them inside. sukuna hesitates though, planting a kiss near the inside of your nape. “whaddya say, pretty. ‘s that okay? ‘d ya want both? can you take two?”

“y— yes,” you suck your teeth, sucking a single sharp breath. toji was so fucking big, stirring up your insides so good until the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach died from the friction. it was a tight fit, and they both hum at how quick you were to respond. “i can take both. pleaseplease just hurry.”

“what ‘bout your ‘lil date?” toji teases, a big hand smacking against your ass — gifting it a solid firm squeeze. his thumb brushes against the soft skin before snickering at you. “both holes, if we give you that, you promise this goes off the record?”

sukuna whispers against your ear, and he’s starting to delve his cock in also, tugging down his boxers halfway. “yeah, princess. no snitchin’ yeah?”

“p- promise,” you moan, the mixture of both cocks brewing up such a feeling of bliss. you’re steadily throbbing before your hips start to move into toji. with a loud pop, your cunt squelches as it’s double stuffed and they both huskily groan in simultaneous unison. so fucking big, your jaw drops at both tips puncturing into you at once. you feel it all, embarrassingly feeling the same familiar sheet of slick stick against your thighs. “oh my g-goddd.”

each body that stuck against each other was so hot, sukuna grabs your hips from the back and toji holds yours from the front. “fuck,” the pink haired man grunts, feeling how easily you clamp down against him. toji’s cock kisses—french kisses against a spongey spot that makes you dumbly slump against his chest. “mhm, look at her toji. such a sloppy mess for two criminal cocks. maybe she should get arrested.”

“then that’d be no fun,” toji plays along, a scarred hand giving your right ass cheek a teasing grip.

the recoil bounces and bounces against his lap before he’s tossing his head back. occasionally, you spot his adam’s apple bobbing before he pants. you’re jerking your hips, trying to develop some kind of rhythm but it’s just rubbish. you’re trying, both cocks molding your walls with each merciless thrust. already, you’re drooling, brushing up against toji’s chest. you’re hit face first against his tits—not even tits but with cups that big, you might as well call it that. there’s not a single thought in your empty brain, and without thinking, you lean down to latch your mouth against his perky exposed nipples. “wha- fuckin’ weirdo.”

toji grunts, feeling you suck against his chest, rolling out your tongue into a swirl against each spot. you’re still being filled from both cores, both heated angles as your lashes flutter. oh, this felt like some kind of erotic fantasy, just being stuffed and sandwiched between two top dogs. the pit of your stomach grows feverishly warm and you whine, sucking against toji’s tender skin. “aw, think you might be her favorite, toji.” sukuna jeers, steadying your hips a bit. his voice, his breath, it went right up against the lobe of your ear, giving it a teasing lick of its own.

you whimper, naturally arched brows creasing and furrowing together as you feel a coil snap.

they finally reached your g-spot, it feels soft and padded. “fuck fuuuuck, ‘s good,” you babble, pathetic sobs pouring from your lips as you’re practically humping toji’s cock. sukuna fills you from behind, flustered crown repeatedly kissing up against clenching sexes. you’re transmitted in a dimwitted state, claws of your own fingernails digging into toji’s beefy thighs. “ngh, ‘s big. fuck, don’t stop— please.”

“what a fuckin’ blabbermouth,” toji grunts, watching as you paw your hands at his chest again. you weren’t sucking on him anymore and he brings a hand over your mouth. “nasty girl. this what you really wanted all along, huh. you didn’t wanna interrogate us, you just wanted to get stuffed, yeah?”

a silent reply comes out of your lips as you’re just covering their bases with a translucent puddled mess of your arousal — it’s messy, you’re messy.

“knock knock, dumb girl,” toji lightly knocks against your forehead, witnessing right before his eyes as your own pupils start to roll back. he removes his hand from your mouth and the intense friction of pleasures was so appetizing you could barely formulate an audible sentence. you’re still being filled in both areas, gummy walls taking in them both before you start to drool again. with a single hand, toji holds up your head as if he’s holding a trophy. “don’t tell me y’r already dumb, c’monnn. wanna hear that sweet voice.”

“t- tooooji,” was all you could babble out, rocking back and forth between each of them.

languid, slow hits against your core had your head spinning. with a sharp wind cutting straight out of your windpipe, you’re panting, clinging onto the dark haired man tightly. he eyes you with that same cunning smirk, clammy hands helping to reel you back and forth into his pelvis. sukuna groans lowly, edges of his teeth seeping down into the soft corners of your flesh. “fuck, ‘m so full. fuuuck.”

they both groan at the same time, feeling you suddenly clamp down, a squelch squeals out of your cunt before your legs merely collapse. with piles of hands roaming down your feverish skin, you start to feel your mouth salivate again.

sweet, salty saliva trickles its way into your mouth. you were so loud but your deafening thumping heart beats were even louder. “good girl, doin’ so good takin’ us both. nice ‘n slow,” and the nape of your neck’s met with a chaste kiss from sukuna. “ride this bum ‘till he breaks for me, yeah?”

with wobbling legs preparing to surrender and fall in defeat— you nod your head, picking up your pace just a bit. raven strands of unkempt hair run down toji’s face before he groans. “mhm, nasty ‘lil girl. don’t listen to him, ‘m not gonna— oh fuck.”

toji’s caught off guard by how sloppy your hips become. a breath gets caught in his throat as you’re grinding against him, sucking them both in so filthy. with your clit repeatedly being smothered with kisses from each tip, you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “hngh, toji. ‘m gonna cum,” you whisper in his ear, growing a bit of spine to kiss near his neck. he grunts, thick weighty cock slamming into you raw. as you’re so close up to him, you feel his jaw tighten at your hips—sukuna’s hips following too. various pairs of hands grab onto your body, and you feel a jumble of bunch of figurative red handed prints clawing at your body. “toji t- tojiiii,” you’re mewling out his name like a broken record. sukuna’s rude sharp smack against your ass making you add his name. “sukuna, fuuuck.”

“look at him, he’s so close, baby,” sukuna murmurs against your ear, jerking your hips further against toji. toji’s raspy groans grow rougher and he slouched back against the chair. you’re in nothing more than a cowgirl position yet you’re being double stuffed by two — on toji’s lap and sukuna claiming you from behind. so lewd, he’s so close that he could almost taste his orgasm, the thought alone scratches such a carnal itch in his brain. a few fingers wrap around your neck, giving you a gentle tug before you croak out a squeak. “such a nasty detective. gettin’ wet for the people y’r supposed to be questioning,” and he reaches his a hand down between the crack of your thighs, feeling against your stuffed cunt. “should be questioning this sloppy girl instead.”

“fuck fuuuuck,” toji growls, his own thigh starting to mimic the pace of your hips, bouncing back and forth. the curve of your hips swivel ‘n swirl around his lap, taking in each salacious thrust. it’s too good. the mean grip your walls has against his cock, both cocks was just too addictive. “shit, ‘m gonna cum, babygirl. ‘s gonna be so much.”

you lean in, planting a wet kiss against his scar and his mouth twitches at the sudden contact. “mhm,” you rut into him quicker, feeling sukuna’s fingertips ghost against the outer part of your neck. toji’s eyes become half-lidded, sukuna’s following his movements — eventually matching each other in sync, in perfect harmony. both were reaching their peaks and it was just so inevitable.

slowly but surely, it was approaching. you felt that familiar bubble of pleasure fermenting in the bottom pits of your tummy all too well. it’s so good, by now you completely forgotten about the fact that you were supposed to go out tonight.

“fuck, where do you want it, pretty,” sukuna rasps against your ear, both hands slithering its way toward your bouncing tits. his thumbs prod against your sensitive nipples, swiping against the tender area as he watches you squirm in lewd ecstasy. you feel hot, dozens of meaningless babbles pouring out of your mouth. you’re a mess, barely able to comprehend what he said until he spanks your cunt a single greet. “talkin’ to you, gimme a answer, princess. don’t be rude.”

“i- inside,” you whimper, his touch against your breasts making you grind your hips further back against him. your rhythm was hypnotic, matching every single hit and thrust. both cocks deeply plunge their way into your walls until it’s buried way into the hilt. you whine, grabbing into sukuna’s hands yourself, making him squeeze harder. his touch, it made you throb. him spanking your cunt only made you twice as sopping wet though. more than you already were. “inside pleaseplease.”

“nasty,” toji tchs, gripping your chin to make you look up at him. you’re met with the coldest gaze. with a hand sliding down your spine from sukuna, toji brings your torso forward at a more quick pace to slam you quicker into them. you gasp, feeling both slit tips thwack and thwack into your weeping, swollen cunt. “fuckin’ — shit,” he growls lowly, and the moment finally comes.

the both of them at separate, divided times, finish deep inside you. a vastly oozing amount of cum emits into both holes raw and you huff.

whining, you fall into toji’s chest, relishing in the sticky mess that’s cascading deep into your womb. it’s hot, a flowing stream of seed that spouts all the way inside and you’re left dumbfounded and hungry for more.

oh, you’ve never felt anything like it. a tingling sensation storms into the pit of your stomach as they both groan, dumping you full of their satiny ropes of cum.

“fuck,” sukuna grunts, holding your hips still so you could feel every drop, every single drop. he hisses at the brief sting, your walls gripping onto them tight, a tenaciously slimy mess skating down your plush thighs. “such a good girl, heh. right ‘toj?”

“shut— up,” he puffs out an elongated breath of fresh air. you moan, still shivering as you came undone yourself, making a cute attempt at riding out your orgasm. still, your hips were slow but barely cresting haste. toji looks at you with glossed eyes and for a split second, he’s speechless. “goddamn baby, y- you’re a mess, y’know that?”

your own eyelids were growing significantly heavy, barely able to keep themselves open. after a few seconds, sukuna pulls out, watching a foamy wad of cum — a milky base, coating around each base. it’s so hot, the stuffed cum pours out of you and you hear the needy squelches your cunt makes. desperately craving for more, utterly devestated that it’s now clenching on nothing except for toji’s flaccid cock.

so messy,

he cranes your head toward him before brushing a thumb against your lip. “c’mere,” and his tone was low, you moan before leaning in to give him a kiss. your heart races, mentally swearing at yourself because this wasn’t part of the job.

your boss, some middle-aged lieutenant was expecting a full report of alibis and details about each of their cases — and yet here you were, making out with one suspect and grinding on another. shame foils at your brain as your lips crash against sukuna’s, moaning at his minty, sugary taste before he abruptly breaks away. “can’t forget about you, big guy.”

as he pried himself off of you, you watch as the pink haired criminal leans in to kiss toji, his eyes widen, hearing a low cackle rumble against his lips before he returns the gesture. toji puffs, not knowing where to place his hands. you don’t know why, but watching them sloppily make out made you throb. you’re still sitting on toji’s lap with his twitching cock still buried inside of you. sukuna slyly smiles against the other felon’s mouth. his hand trails down toji’s beefy body, stopping toward his shaft — he was so close to touching it but stops. that makes toji groan.

gradually, he pulls away - a sheeny web of spit departs from each lips and toji grows flustered.

“what the fuck.” toji grunts.

“oh, i heard that moan, don’t deny it.”

it was like this the entire time — countless banner, a plethora of positions in the interrogation room. the same interrogation room where you were supposed to be interrogating.

but that didn’t happen, and instead, you’ve been left stuffed full more than you’ve ever felt before. your clothes were practically torn and ruined, including your pretty fishnets.

with a sigh, you’re on your knees with both criminals gawking at you. their zipped up saffron-colored jumpsuits were back on and toji grabs your chin. “open, baby,” and sukuna’s toying with your handcuffs. knees of yours bury into the solid sleek floor before you part your lips open. toji watches, whipping back out your firearm before pressing the barrel between your lips. “lick it.”

you moan, lapping your tongue against the metal pierce—sukuna watches, growing quiet and wonders what toji’s gonna do next. you could feel your pulse through your ears again, it’s so loud that it puts booming speakers to shame.

pretty fluttering lashes of yours bat within each blink before toji bends down a bit toward your kneeling level. “good girl,” he roughly replies, sticking a finger between the trigger. it toggles against it and you feel a heat of nerves prick against your skin—giving birth to what appears to be goosebumps. toji has a smug grin, raising a dark brow. “you trust me, baby?”

stupidly enough, without hesitation, you nod with the metallic taste of the weapon still lingering on your tastebuds. “y- yes,” and your voice is so soft and pathetic. you sounded needy, longing for more of their touch, more of their taste. “i trust you toji.”

he makes your mouth pry open a bit more. pretty swollen lips,

perfect.

the gun, your gun that’s held currently in his hand, it goes straight into your mouth, your tongue flicks against the upper part of the barrel before he scoffs. “good girl.”

and you hear a single clicking cock,

your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to realize toji just pulled the trigger.

but nothing happens,

and suddenly, his boner was ruined.

“well shit.”

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sirfrogsworth · 11 months

Text

Do you remember that Aussie sword guy who used to talk about medieval weapons?

And, like, he seemed pretty good at talking about swords and shit. He seemed to have a good grasp of the history and tactics. He'd analyze movie weapons for their realism and that was fun. He did demonstrations with real weapons. For a time I really looked forward to his videos popping up in my feed.

He seemed like a harmless sword-fighting aficionado.

But then I guess he wanted to spread his wings. So he started down an anti-woke path. Giving questionable critiques about media and feminism. He started defending boob armor by showing historical examples even though most of those were decorative and not battle ready like in the games.

Then he admitted he was a fan of The Daily Wire.

And that was disappointing.

I missed him nerding out about swords, ya know?

Well, Shad decided to spread his wings again.

He has become...

*bad French accent* An artiste.

You see, he types words into a little box. Then a little robot does a google image search and steals a bunch of art. Then that robot reconfigures that art to be nearly indistinguishable from the source material. Well... aside from the occasional artist watermark.

Whoops!

A.I. art is very difficult. Sometimes when you type words into the box you get a woman with 5 lopsided anime tiddies. Or 20 fingers on one hand. It takes time and effort and experience to type in the perfect magic words so that you get something close to your imagination that doesn't belong in some sort of Lovecraftian horror ripoff.

For example, check out this cool "pirate hat" I asked A.I. to place on my head.

Clearly, I am not skilled enough at typing words into a box to get a proper pirate hat.

It. Is. Not. Easy.

I heard someone say you have to type things in a box for 10,000 hours before you start getting truly masterful generations.

I mean, you can't type "marathon runners" and expect that to actually work.

THIS REQUIRES SKILL, PEOPLE.

And I am a lowly amateur. I can only dream of becoming the box-typist Shad has honed himself into.

The thing is... Shad is very upset.

He is upset that you don't like his "art" and he is ready to die on this hill.

So... before he croaks on a mound of bullshit, he has something to show you. He has created something truly brilliant and when you see it, he is convinced you will validate his considerable efforts.

Before I show you his "Not. Easy." artistic masterpiece I'd like you to sit with what he has said for a second.

Ruminate in the verbiage.

Process the ideas and points of view presented.

Digest his plea for you to accept and love his hard won battle after typing words into a box to manifest his imaginings.

Have you sat?

Ruminated?

Processed?

Digested?

Okay, here it is...

#long post

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ohproserpine · 8 months

Text

i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him.

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~"

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town.

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers."

Charming.

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman.

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow.

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features.

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead.

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose.

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout.

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said.

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit.

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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radiance1 · 8 months

Text

There was a boy walking towards the invading army.

There was a civilian child walking towards the invading army from the infinite realms lead by their tyrannical ruler. The Justice League tried to stop force their way through, save the boy.

Instead of that, however, they were blocked by multiple ghosts, all hellbent on not leaving them alone. Superman tried to get close to the kid? Piles upon piles of ghosts knocked him back. Wonder Woman? The same thing happened.

The thing was, that wasn't even the ground army who did it. But the ones in the sky.

So the kid was walking towards an entire army by himself. One hellbent on taking over Earth and have no qualms about ending the short life of a human boy.

Instead of watching a child die, a life they failed to save. Something else happened.

The army parted for him.

Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, the same happened with the ghosts. They made a clear-cut line for him to walk straight towards their king with no obstacle, even clearing the way of anything that could pose as one.

Again, the Justice League tried to go down to drag the boy away, only to again be denied by the ghosts flying through the sky. Only to stop chasing as soon as they retreated a certain distance.

The ghosts stood still, and only moved as they got close, unlike their previous acts of causing havoc and mayhem. So, the Justice League, as much as they didn't want too, stood still and watched.

The boy stood at a stop before the king, painfully tiny in comparison to the massive ghostly tyrant standing before him with his arms crossed.

"Yo, dad." The boy said, and the Justice League froze in shock.

===

"Yo, dad." Danny lifted a hand up in greeting, before dropping that hand to rub at his neck. "Funny seeing you here, I guess."

"Phantom..." Pariah Dark's voice was soft yet booming and seemed to echo throughout the battlefield. "We meet once again on the field of battle, come to challenge me again, little one? Without your armor, no less?" Pariah tilted his head to the side slightly, questioning.

"Oh that? Yea that got destroyed ages ago," Danny shrugged, as if not having it didn't bother him at all. "Parents couldn't exactly, you know, finish it. Plus, they had other things to work on, so they just decided to scrap the thing altogether." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "So, yea..."

Pariah looked the boy over, his eyes hardening and he clicked his tongue at what he saw.

"You come here, not with armor," Pariah began, strength in his voice and a fire (literally) in his eyes. "Nor a weapon, or a shield, and no allies of any kind-"

"Well those guys are there" Danny pointed behind him, straight at the Justice League.

"-Walk up to a hostile force with no gauge of their strength." But Pariah just barreled on as if the Justice League were an afterthought. "And face their leader and do not expect to come to harm!?" The Ghost King scowled, and the Justice League tensed.

But just tilted his head slightly. "Well, are you going to harm me?" He asked.

Pariah Dark blinked, then whispered. "I could, child. I could kill you." He put a strong emphasis on the word kill.

"You could," Danny nodded. "But are you going to hurt me?"

The Ghost King remained silent, but his gaze intensified.

Danny shrugged, this time with a smile. "See? You wouldn't hurt me so it's fine. Ya big softie."

Pariah's scowl intensified. "I am not soft, child."

"Oh really?" Danny leaned forward and his smile took on a more playful edge. "Then what's you're reason for visiting Earth, hmmmm?"

"To wage war and fight against this world's mightiest heroes." The Ghost King answered quickly.

"Annnnnnnd?"

The king remained silent for a moment and Danny stepped forwards before he face planted onto concrete. "C'mon, dad. Tell me the other reason you came here." Danny crossed his arms, mimicking the Ghost King's pose.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before Pariah looked off the side with green dusting his cheeks. "You have not visited in 50 years, son..." He whispered, but everyone heard it.

"Hah! Knew you missed me!" Danny said shamelessly with a satisfied and smug smile.

"And your father forced me out of the realms because I upset him." Small embers started igniting themselves on the tips of the king's hair.

Silence echoed over the battlefield, before Danny burst out laughing. Pariah Dark's hair fully exploded into green fire as he reached a hand to cover his face. "Of course, alongside the shameless and cheekiness, you get Clockwork's sense of humor as well..."

The Ghost King, at least this very moment, seemed more and more like a tired dad than some fearsome, tyrannical Ghost King.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #pariah dark #dp dark ages #dp darkages #darkages #ghost prince danny

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dduane · 4 months

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I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.

Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)

As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.

Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)

Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.

Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)

Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.

There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)

The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"

Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).

But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."

So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.

...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)

First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:

Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem

So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.

So: write to corporate.

In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.

The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].

"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."

This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.

Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.

And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)

#reader issues #books #production quality #covers #bad covers

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norrisainz33 · 2 months

Text

Best in Show || CS55 & CL16

☆ summary: charles’ sister is headed to the olympics and she’s ready to bring things to the next level with her fwb carlos

☆ pairing: carlos sainz & olympic!leclerc!reader

☆ f/c & warnings: none; slightly suggestive & terribly translated french

☆ requested: yes!! thanks for your request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

scuderiaferrari has posted a video

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user3: i don’t understand how all of the leclerc’s are so perfect and talented

user1: the leclerc brothers are so 🤤

user2: princess of monaco about to eat up the competition at the olympics

user8: wait that’s insane only 6 athletes? the uk sent 327… y/n must be really good

user2: she is!! she’s been to the show jumping world cup AND she won the jumping international in monte carlo (both huge accomplishments especially at her age)

user4: their genes are strong and full of sporting talent huh

user24: they should’ve gotten carlos in on this interview. he loves talking about y/n

user18: no fr he very clearly has a crush on her

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: did someone say ,, olympics? get ready to watch your favorite duo (me and [horse’s name]) take on paris 😉

view all 876 comments

user6: HI Y/N (louder than everyone else)

user7: she’s so unserious i love her

charlesleclerc: and why did you have to post the last photo

ynleclerc: because i love it frère [brother]

arthurleclerc: why didn’t i make the olympics announcement post

ynleclerc: bc you refused to put on the glasses bebe

user11: the royal family of monaco is so beautiful

juliaanalvarez: looking forward to seeing you in paris

ynleclerc: you better cheer me on julián

user88: ik carlos is shaking in his boots. he’s got competition it seems

user99: no y/n anyone but a soccer player

carlossainz55: congratulations on making it to the olympics y/n 😍

ynleclerc: thanks carly 🤭

user22: CARLY DNSKSJF

user18: i ship y/n and carlos so hard

use r23: day 124 of wondering why they aren’t together

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: don’t worry everyone - the party has arrived in paris and we already made it through the first round 🇲🇨

view all 546 comments

user12: oh thank goodness (i wasn’t worried)! congratulations on an incredible first round

user13: what do i have to do to be that horse

landonorris: when are you gonna let me take a ride on ya?

charlesleclerc: mate that’s my sister

landonorris: i was talking abt the horse

ynleclerc: i hate you landonorris

landonorris: no you don’t ma cherry

ynleclerc: CHÉRIE

landonorris: 😘😘

user29: lando is so real for this

user24: impatiently waiting for carlos to get here

alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest girl in all of paris. i am so proud of you 🤍

ynleclerc: please get your beautiful self here quicker 😫

carlossainz55: paris is looking real good these days 😍

ynleclerc: you should come find out just how good it looks 😏

user23: whoa get a room

arthurleclerc: please stop flirting

texts between you and carlos

ynleclerc has added to their story

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user77: my god you’re gorgeous

user99: now who … sent you those flowers ms y/n? was it charles? was it julian? was it carlos? i won’t spill the beans if u tell me i promise

user34: i’m rooting for you y/n!! you and [horses name] are going to crush it

landonorris: i know i didn’t send you flowers… so who did?

ynleclerc: wait… you didn’t send these?

landonorris: y/n/n don’t play with me. was it him?

ynleclerc: yes 🤭

landonorris: I KNEW IT. so you guys together or?

landonorris: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ TF

charlesleclerc: y/n/n - i only sent you the white ones… who are the others from?

ynleclerc: my adoring fans!

charlesleclerc: arrête! [stop it] we both know that is not the case

charlesleclerc: just tell me who they are from. i’ll be cool about it

ynleclerc: no you won’t charlie 🤍

arthurleclerc: charles sent me - tell me who those are from

ynleclerc: no! hope that helps bebe 😘

arthurleclerc: are they from a certain spanish driver or an argentinian footballer?

alexandrasaintmleux: your brothers are insufferable sometimes…. but don’t worry i didn’t tell them who sent those gorgeous flowers 😍🤭

ynleclerc: my girl 😘

user87: wagering a bet that those flowers are from carlos

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: obviously not the result i was hoping for. we tapped the last bar on the last jump as we were about to set the fastest time. i’m gutted but at the same time i am immensely proud of everything [horse’s name] and i have accomplished. we are bringing home monaco’s only medal from the entire olympic games and for that i am elated. i think i prefer silver anyway 🥈🤍

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user67: being the reason monaco is getting a medal is still an insane serve

user87: my favorite horse girl

landonorris: a medal is a medal - proud of you punk

ynleclerc: thank you bobby

juliaanalvarez: congratulations on a hard won medal!

ynleclerc: merci julian! glad we got to catch up 🤍

user57: back!! back i said 🤺

carlossainz55: y/n/n you gave it everything you had out there and you have so much to be proud of. i am in awe of you

ynleclerc: carlos 🥹

user55: this is so sweet i’m gonna throw up

user23: day 145 of wondering why they aren’t together

arthurleclerc: good job or whatever sis

ynleclerc: thanks loser

carmenmundt: you are an absolute inspiration! congratulations on following your dreams and making them come true 🤍

ynleclerc: i love you so much carmen

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by ynleclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, landonorris and 987,654 others

charlesleclerc: we made it to paris in time to see y/n in the final event. ma petite sœur je suis si fière de toi. je suis pour toujours et à jamais ton plus grand soutien. [my little sister, i am so proud of you. i am forever and always your biggest supporter]

view all 999 comments

scuderiaferrari: congrats y/n on a hard fought silver! we are so proud of you

user16: wake up ! hottest photo dump of the summer just dropped 😭😫😍

user37: wow arthur is eating charles up in the 4th slide

ynleclerc: merci charlie. je t'aime jusqu'à la lune et retour. merci d'être là [thank you charlie. I love you to the moon and back. thank you for being there]

charlesleclerc: je t'aime y/n/n. i wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

ynleclerc: btw who even invited pierre?

pierregasly: why can’t i turn up and support my favorite leclerc?

ynleclerc: i’m your favorite?

pierregasly: no , not even close

francisca.cgomes: i’m sorry y/n! he simply insisted upon tagging along 🙄

ynleclerc: i’ll let it slide because i got to see you my love 😍

user34: so special that they were all able to make it to paris

alexandrasaintmleux: my favorite girl in the whole world is an olympic medalist! monaco and all of us are so proud 🤍

ynleclerc: don’t make me cry 🥹

user76: monegasque royal family is my roman empire

ynlecerc has posted to their story

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user55: I KNOW THATS MY MAN CARLOS

user87: you ain’t slick id recognize that hand and arm anywhere. that is mr carlos sainz jr

francisca.cgomes: your brother resorted to calling me to see if i knew who was in this post 🙄

ynleclerc: of course he did…. he’ll find out soon enough 🤭

charlesleclerc: anything you want to tell me? looks a lot like a teammate of mine

ynleclerc: nothing i want to tell you charlie :)

carlossainz55: had a wonderful evening with you mi amor. let’s do it again.. and again and again and again.

ynleclerc: i had an amazing time. i’m already looking forward to our next date!! you may as well just come back to my flat now idk why you even left in the first place

carlossainz55: didn’t want to come across too clingy

ynleclerc: good thing i like clingy! get back here 😏

carlossainz55: yes ma’am

user27: begging to know how much charles and arthur are stressing over this story

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourbff, carlossainz55, carmenmundt, landonorris, visitmonaco, and 789,465 others

ynleclerc: yes, you all guessed it! he’s mine 😘

view all 899 comments

user13: someone check on the user who has been counting the days since they started flirting

user23: i’ve been summoned!! all i can say is thank god

landonorris: it’s about time

arthurleclerc: i called it

user99: old money carlos is perfect for our equestrian goddess

charlesleclerc: so this is how i find out?

ynleclerc: you did say you were one of my fans so… yes?

charlesleclerc: you are on my last nerve

carmenmundt: adorable 😍

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl 😘

ynleclerc: my man my man my man

francisca.cgomes: time for a double date 🤍

pierregasly: charles says i’m not allowed

ynleclerc: who said you were invited pierre?

user47: vibes in the ferrari garage in zandvoort are gonna be wild

user98: carlosy/n truthers our time has come

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: another installment of olympic reader wahooo! slowly but surely making my way through my requests. liked and reblogs are always appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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shaisuki · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃: A BULLY SATOSUGU SERIES

— the following will contain warnings such as heavy bullying, nonconsensual actions such as groping, sexual acts and recording, dubious consent, dacryphilia, double penetration, anal sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, humiliation, degradation, drinking, drugs, implied drugging, overdosing, threats, blackmails, sabotage, allusions to depression/suicide, oc characters, fatphobia, gaslighting, emotional abuse, name calling (pig related names), mild injuries, praise. more tags to be added as the series proceeds. dead dove do not eat.

notes this was intentionally a lone fic with no future parts and here we are. the comments are what i didn't expect and completely blown out by the feedback i received. let's see how the series will go on. i thank you all from the bottom of my heart to those who commented, who gave the effort to reblogged and to the notes. it really gave me the boost to write more about this series. we will get to the revenge arc soon.

synopsis you got tangled with the university's golden boys and they made their everyday mission to made your life miserable. what happens if it gone too far? or was it already doomed from the start since they first laid their eyes on you.

𝙰 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴

synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

𝙻𝙾𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂

synopsis they didn't know that would be the last time they will see you.

𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂

synopsis you finally started what you want

𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴

synopsis a old memory surfaces.

𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙻 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂

synopsis after three years you're once facing again your tormentors. will you still be the same after that years or would it open new found feelings?

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻

synopsis to break from the past you desperately want to forget, facing them is the only choice you have left to move forward and is forgiveness is easy to be given as it was forgetting.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝚁𝚈

synopsis they meet you now after three grueling years and one thing's not changed. is that you still look pretty when you cry.

𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝙴

synopsis you got closure and it was rewarding as it was painful.

𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙹𝙾𝚈

synopsis the reason you decided it's payback time.

𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂

synopsis

𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

▶𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂

synopsis after the punishment you took plus being sick gave them the reason to visit after your two days of absence.

▶𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃

synopsis a shopping trip with the two sounds fun but it's actually not. you hope that it won't be hectic for you and it would be the first they are genuinely nice to you.

— more to add

MOODBOARDS one | two

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade @definetlythinkimanalien @thulhu @mastermasterlist1p1

want to be tagged? just comment.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #bully satosugu

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k9wa · 6 months

Text

⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time.

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes.

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?”

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit.

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help.

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red.

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—”

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol.

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#‘kawa he doesn’t chew—‘ REALITY IS WHAT I MAKE IT.#plus its funny #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr headcanons #UNEARTHLY

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starreo · 3 months

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pro hero! katsuki bakugo drabble .

y'er so much trouble, aren'cha. includes blowjob, very vague? writing, fem! reader, slight perv! kirishima mention lol and adult themes, so mdni!!

you try not to, you really do. but sucking on katsuki's throbbing cock in the elevator of his agency is just so much fun. on the outside, you're just his secretary, sweet girl who god knows how, tolerates all those late night and early morning calls. your colleagues feel so much pity for you, ever since kirishima saw you sneaking out of leaving bakugo's house just in time for their early morning run, he came back to the office, loudly lecturing bakugo on how he can't overwork you like that.

so it makes it so much fun, to slide into the elevator, right after katsuki's blown his head off at some silly intern, fumes practically coming out of his ears as he repeatedly presses the button for the third floor. everyone stares at you in awe as you run right into the elevator. only you could face bakugo right now.

literally.

as he's about to scoff and grumble something stupid about how he's not in the mood to play around with you when the door finally closes and you smash him against the wall. normally katsuki bakugo wouldn't move an inch, but for you.

for you, baby, anything.

one hand of his is gripping your hair and fisting it into a ponytail as your head slowly moves closer to the base of his cock and then back to the tip, while his other hand struggles to find the emergency stop button of the elevator. "fuck fuck fuck- y/n, f-fuck, " he's throbbing in your mouth already, you can feel it deep in your throat as you hollow your cheeks against his girth, looking up at him with those fucked out eyes that he likes so much. he finally finds the button and smashes it right before it opens up on the third floor. and you can hear people outside groaning about how this is the fourth time this month.

as you're quickening your pace, hands wrapping around the excess of his length to help him finish, you can see him poke his tongue in his cheek, eyes shut as he tries so hard not to moan your name when you swallow all his orgasm. when he opens his eyes, it's to see the string of saliva and slick connecting your swollen lips to his softening cock as a few droplets of his cum drip down your chin. and that, is a sight he would never not want to see.

slowly, you get up from your knees, making a silly comment about how he's so much hotter in his winter uniform, and roughly brush your thumb against your bottom lip, collecting all the excess liquid and sucking on it as you watch color return to his cheeks.

"y'er so much trouble, aren'cha" he grins, eyes narrowing in fondness as he pulls you by your neck and sloppily smashes his lips against yours.

pulling back, he sighs before pressing the emergency stop button, eyebrows raising as he notices the crowd of people there, "get back to work you little shits, 'm not paying ya to loiter around-! and use thegoddamn stairs if the elevator ain't working! " and that classic workaholic bakugo act would've fooled everyone else, but when kirishima notices how everytime the elevator has acted up it's been the two of you going down, or coming up, he feels like he's connecting some dots, so he moves forward to catch a better glimpse, and there you are, oh, not to mention the very suspicious white stuff on bakugo's shoes. but it's okay, Kirishima won't tell anyone, maybe he'll take a quick check of the security cameras though, just to erase any evidence that might hurt his manly friend's rep, right? at least that's what he tries to convince himself of as he jolts downstairs with a boner harder than his quirk.

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fangisms · 1 year

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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #x fem!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #friends to lovers

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