#why this first mission you get to choose

[garashir]

Charles and Arthur in The Aftermath of Genesis

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[marvelfilth]

Need (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job

Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP

Masterlist

You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.

You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.

You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.

You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.

Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.

"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.

Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.

"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.

"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.

"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."

You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."

Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.

"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.

You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."

Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."

You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.

Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."

Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.

"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."

Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.

Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.

You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.

"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."

Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.

Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.

"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."

You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."

They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.

Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.

Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.

"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.

"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.

Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.

Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.

She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.

"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."

Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.

You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.

[oncillabrigade]

Consider:

The Bats all have personalized ring tones for one another, but everyone has both a civilian and a Bat ring tone. The civilian ones are chaos, with everyone choosing whatever they want for their various family members and friends. BUT! Everyone has a single Bat tone that all other team members use for them.

The catch? Bruce forbid them from choosing their own Bat ring tones because he proposed this plan back in Dick's Robin days and he IMMEDIATELY picked "Toxic." The choice was not well received.

Bruce: Dick, I will not be alerted to the fact that you're in danger by some Britney Spears song.

Dick: First of all, it is not some Britney song, it is the Britney song. That song finally won her a Grammy.

Bruce: *sighs*

Dick: Second of all, it won't tell you when I'm in danger... it'll tell you when Robin is.

Bruce:

Bruce: I'm taking the Walkman out of the Robin kit.

Dick: *offended gasp*

(Yes, Dick is old enough for a Walkman. No, you will not change my mind. Yes, the Tim-and-on siblings all find that hilarious. Yes, Jason has to be VERY careful not to mention that he borrowed that Walkman for years because he was uncomfortable taking expensive electronics out and about with him.)

Anyway!

Dick then proposes a slew of other songs for the whole team to use, all of which are pop culture references, e.g. the Scrubs theme because they're not Superman and also they're a dysfunctional family of coworkers; the theme from the Godfather because "let's be honest, B, we are basically our own mafia"; "Where is My Mind" by the Pixies because lol identity shenanigans, etc. The list is endless. Bruce spends weeks groaning every time his son texts him.

Eventually, they compromise on the version of "The Entertainer" from The Sting because they're hiding in plain sight to enact a mission defending good people in a hard world. Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are all so pleased with this that they each take a different section of the song as their ring tone.

Then Barbara becomes Batgirl, so she gets a section... and then Jason becomes Robin and gets one, too... and then Tim, then Steph, and then Cass is taken in, and... uh oh. That's a lot of people for one song.

But it's family tradition! They can't stop now. That would be so unfair to the new kids, B!

So they start using alternate arrangements of the song. Bruce has mellowed slightly on the "no choosing your own" thing. As long as it's a version of "The Entertainer" (within reason) he'll allow it.

Tim retroactively changes his ring tone to a weird groove-ska arrangement Bart randomly sent him on YouTube because have you met Tim Drake? Of course he went for hilarious obscurity. (Bruce grits his teeth and approves it after lots of prompting from Dick and Alfred). Steph makes it her mission to find a weirder one (Bruce agrees because he's too tired to deal with accusations of favoritism).

Cass creates her own arrangement on theremin because apparently she knows how to play the theremin. No one is sure why. Upon inquiry, she just says, "spooky noises are fun," but does not elaborate further even when she's asked to do so. A Batgirl's gotta have her secrets—Babs taught her that.

When Jason starts working with his family again, he pays an aspiring music producer within Red Hood's ranks to create a minor key remix of the original Robin II ring tone. His siblings (minus Cass) are VERY jealous he has his own personalized arrangement. Dick, Tim, and Steph end up paying this goon who owns Garage Band to do ones for them, too. Duke does the same when he joins the team.

Meanwhile, in a fit of little brotherly pique, Damian steals Tim's original ring tone. He hopes to rub salt in the Robin replacement wounds. He fails! Tim finds it beyond funny that Damian's ring tone is groove-ska. So Damian quietly pays the amateur producer to make him one that's cooler than Tim's. He pays a ludicrous amount, though, because Steph paid for one cooler than Jason's and Tim paid for one cooler than Steph's.

(Dick wanted one cooler than Jason's too, but he had $63.02 in his bank account at the time and Bruce flat out refused to use the Batbudget on "a super cool ring tone that's better than Jay's." Eventually, Dick just paid himself for an averagely cool one. In installments.)

At this point, the Bats have single-handedly given this fledgling producer enough money to quit being a goon and start an indie music studio. His first customers are mostly superheroes from out of town who like what the Bats have going on and want their own team ring tones. Harley and Ivy get in on that action, too.

Then, as word spreads, every local crook/henchperson with a side band (there are many) flocks to the studio to have their stuff produced by one of their own. Gotham rogues suddenly have an unemployment problem, while the city finds itself with a flourishing indie music scene that puts Metropolis' to shame. The entire state of New Jersey is celebrating the dual victory.

Dick has never been so glad someone doesn't like Britney Spears' magnum opus.

[dannnnnny666]

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?” 

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?” 

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

[orihimeii]

call it what you want - gojo satoru

being married for 2 years with the strongest still feels surreal every time the both of you celebrate your anniversary.

a/n: this was inspired by taylor swift's song "call it what you want." i always imagine gojo whenever i listen to that song. god i love him. reblogs are greatly appreciated.

"gojo is so in love with you" shoko nudges you, your attention diverting to the man who was walking towards you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"yeah" you say, heart fluttering while staring at him and you can see him smiling at you from his direction, "i love him too."

"why did you choose that dumbass?" shoko asks.

you chuckle at her question.

"there's a lot of reasons, but" you pause, "-one thing im sure is that, every little thought in my head that troubles me fade to nothing when i look at him."

shoko looks at you amused, smiling too. "i'd kill for that kind of love."

a tall figure towered over you and you smile.

"what are you doing here mister?" you crossed your arms as you playfully roll you eyes at gojo who was standing now in front of you.

his eyebrow shot up, "who are you calling mister?" he questions as his hand took yours to kiss it, giving you the flowers after. he dressed up today, wearing an all black outfit, he was always too good looking.

"wow im not even here" shoko announced as she walks away leaving the both of you. gojo pulled you closer to him and he was smirking.

"oh? did you finally remember what date is it today?" you asked, crossing your arms. he was always busy with the school and missions, it started to convince you that he forgot about it.

this day was always special for the both of you, the day where you two have shared a loving bond and giving promises to each other that's been kept constantly till to this day.

"happy anniversary" he kisses you in the lips. "i will never get tired of loving you."

you let him kiss you, god you loved him. he smelled good.

you tiptoed trying to align your height with his, arms wrapping around his nape as you feel his slowly holding your waist.

the kisses you had with him were always this passionate, like it was the first time.

you pulled away, tasting something different and started giggling, "toru, is that a new lip balm?"

he was pouting, he didn't want to end the kiss.

"yeah, i bought a new one because i ran out," he replies, feeling both of his thumb making circles on your waist while looking at you flirtingly, "it's your favorife flavor too."

your smile widened, "then, don't blame me when i ask for more kisses often."

"i will never complain princess."

© ORIHIMEII 2023 all rights reserved, do not copy or plagiarize my work including my theme and graphics that i've done, thank you.

[ghostfacd]

SAVE THE GIRL

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!mentor!reader

summary: when you start to feel bad for the tributes, it’s when snow slowly starts to crack. when you snuck into the arena to properly send your goodbyes to one is when he loses it, making it his mission to get you out, even if it means costing his life

warnings: SPOILERS. descriptions of killing, Snow being a bad friend to Sejanus and manipulative, reader essentially replaces Sejanus in the movie’s original scene

“We all know how this works right guys?” Lucky Flickerman says, his eyes held a sparkle within them. “As soon as your tribute dies, you’re out!”

The screen flickers on the arena, its dusty surroundings filled you with a sense of dread.

You had gotten Lamina, a girl who you were afraid would die as soon as the timer went off. But she managed to impress you, and completely won you over when she had speared the other tributes’ pain and suffering by killing them with an axe.

“Coryo,” you whisper to the blonde hair boy who was almost drifting into sleep. “Coryo.”

“Hm?” He fixes his posture, “is something wrong with Lucy Gray?”

You shake your head, and only pointed to the empty desks surrounding you. “Many died.”

“Your point?”

It almost seems as if Coriolanus was bored of your commentary, he probably was, you did wake him from his sleep.

“This doesn’t feel right Coryo. Not at all. Any of it.”

Coriolanus lets out a breath of annoyance. It was always like that with him, he seemed always to be one step ahead—or at least he presented himself in that way, and he seemed like he was annoyed with anyone who wasn’t on the same level as him.

You and Coriolanus went way back. You were the first few to have known of the death of his father, Coriolanus had told you about it with tears in his eyes. Not because he missed his father, not really, but because he was afraid that there would be nothing left of the Snow family by the time the war was over.

When you first entered the Academy, Snow linked himself with Clemensia Dovecote, a pretty black haired girl who he had gotten close with, and if anyone didn’t know better, they might’ve been more than just friends. But Coriolanus and Clemensia came off as acquaintances by association to you more than anything.

He stopped doing group projects with you so he could do it with her, and he had made himself friendly with Sejanus, a boy who was originally from the Districts but managed to buy his way into the Capitol. Or at least, that’s what all of your seething classmates said as they looked at him in disgust.

“You sound like Sejanus.” Is all Coriolanus says, glancing back at his small television screen.

“Sejanus is our friend, Coryo.”

“Sejanus is district.” Coriolanus slams his hand on your desk, making you flinch. “No matter how much money he has, no matter how much he tries to fit in, he will always be district. And you? You might as well be district with him if you keep acting like this.”

Your brows furrow, and you start to get angry. Who the fuck does Coriolanus Snow think he is?

“And I suppose you’re so well off Capitol yourself, Coriolanus?”

The way your words drip with such venom makes Snow almost crumble, but he doesn’t, instead, choosing to inch his face just a meter over yours. “Don’t say anymore things you don’t mean, Y/N.”

And that was the end of it. Coriolanus Snow wins every argument, and you hated him so much. Why couldn’t he see this was wrong? You knew he had a heart in there somewhere, which was why he was helping Lucy Gray Baird in the first place. Unless he was doing it all for the Plinth prize, for the money.

As you watch your tribute fall to her death, the loud crack adding all to your misery, you wanted to throw the television and desk across the room, just like Sejanus had previously. They were monsters, all of them.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Coriolanus says, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

But Coriolanus Snow can’t be sorry, he can’t feel empathy, he can’t feel pain, and most importantly, he can’t feel love.

As the games went on, Coriolanus was slumped into his chair, sleep overcoming his senses.

Dr. Gaul clears her throat, her loud but snake like movements made Coriolanus jolt awake, hissing as he accidentally hurt himself on the edges of the desk.

“I see you’re still here, Mr. Snow.”

“Is something wrong?” Coriolanus asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Is Lucy Gray okay?”

“Oh her? She’s fine.” Dr. Gaul waves the girl off like she meant nothing. “It’s your friend, I’m worried about.”

“My friend?” Coriolanus whips his head around to try and find you, but you were gone, leaving no trace.

“Yes.” Dr. Gaul motions to the wide television in front. “She’s in the arena right now. Doing this goodbye thing for her tribute.”

Coriolanus doesn’t want to believe Dr. Gaul, but how could he not when you’re shown so clearly in the cameras, putting flowers into the hand of your tribute. Almost as if you saw her as human.

“Now Miss. L/N hasn’t done anything like this in the past, so it does spark questions in my mind as to why she’s suddenly..” Dr. Gaul pauses. “Rebelling.” She says this as if it were poison on her tongue.

“From Sejanus, I would expect this. But from our own people, Coriolanus? Now this is absurd. I’ll make sure to get the name of the peacekeeper who let her in and have them executed.” Dr. Gaul gives him a smile, one that sends chills up Coriolanus’s back. “Now I happen to know you two are friends, close friends even; so I need you to go into the arena and fetch her out.”

“Me?” Coriolanus stutters out, hesitance clearly showing in his voice.

“Is that hesitance I hear, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Gaul steps even closer. “Everyone in the Capitol is asleep by now, which means they won’t see the foolishness Miss. Y/N is currently causing. You will go into the arena and take her out before she does anything more stupid. I will not let these rebels make mockery of my game, Mr. Snow. I will simply not allow it.”

And Coriolanus knows he has no choice but to obey Dr. Gaul’s orders.

He makes his way quietly into the arena, making sure his footsteps weren’t creating such loud noises to alert the tributes.

“Y/N,” he whispers as he gets close to your kneeling figure. He watches as you slowly put your hand over Lamina’s eyes, closing them for her. “Y/N.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reply, not bothering to turn around to face the boy.

“But I am.” He grunts out in annoyance. “I’m here to save your ass because that’s what friends do, Y/N. So help me, and get up.”

You don’t listen to him, choosing to keep kneeling and watching your dead tribute instead. She looked peaceful, and you felt so guilty knowing there was nothing you could do to save her.

“Y/N, I mean it.” Coriolanus says in a more assertive tone. “You’re going to die out here. These tributes? They might as well be animals now, they’re gonna kill the both of us if we don’t get out.”

He grunts in annoyance when he doesn’t see you move, so he carefully walks over, placing his arm under yours, practically dragging your body up from your kneeling position.

“Cmon Y/N, you’ve got to help me.” Coriolanus whispers out. “You don’t want to die here, trust me.”

“HEY! YOU!” The two of you whip your head so quickly at the voice that it sends a dizziness into your head. “HEY!”

The remaining tributes, none of them were Lucy Gray, Wovey, or the boy from 11 with speed so quick that it took the breath in your lungs away.

“CMON!” Coriolanus grabs your hand, the both of you fiercely running towards the doors.

One of the tributes with one of his eyes shut had a sharp blade in his hand, successfully slicing into Coriolanus’s back and your arm. The two of you let out a moan of pain, the frenzy feeling of adrenaline overwhelming the both of you.

Coriolanus lets your hand go for a second, pushing the tribute back harshly, managing to make him drop his weapon. Coriolanus picks up one of the broken poles, repeatedly hitting the male tribute with it until his body stopped moving completely.

You thought he’d be done with it, but he lets out a scream of anger, plunging the pole into the tribute’s body, making you shriek out in horror.

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Coriolanus breathes out to you, practically limping hand in hand with you as he sees the other tributes catching up from the distance. “Open the door!”

The peacekeepers opened the door, closing it right as one of the more fiercer tribute sticks her trident out. “You’re lucky you’ve escaped this time.” She growls out.

You fall onto the ground as soon as Coriolanus lets go of your hand.

“Hey,” he croaks out, kneeling to cup your face into his hands. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

He sounds so reassuring, so kind, and not like the Coriolanus you had despised from earlier.

“I..” you can’t even get a word out before you’re full on sobbing, not caring if you were embarrassing yourself in front of Coriolanus and the two peacekeepers.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He places his hand on the back of your head, bringing you into his chest. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No one will ever hurt you, Y/N.”

And if there’s one thing Coriolanus Snow is good at—it’s ensuring he gets what he wants.

[4ngel-inc]

࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ࿐

tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, a little angsty but all with happy endings, fluff but suggestive & some dirty talk !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 feels a knife in his chest when he sees you hugging someone else—he knows the two of you have only been dating a short time, but in his mind, you're the one. he wants you forever, but now you've gone and fallen for someone else. he immediately contemplates killing the other person, but he decides against it—that was his past self, he's changed now. it takes a lot for him to be completely vulnerable around you at first, so it's difficult expressing that he's jealous. "bella, are you still happy with me?" he hates the slight quiver in his voice, but he needs to know. "huh? 'f course i am, osamu, why'd you ask me that?" you pull him in for a soft kiss, just lips touching gently, before pulling away, "something bothering you?" before he can even bring up the other guy, he realizes how silly he's been, shaking himself out of his own self-loathing—"ah, nothing, just wanted to make sure. wanna go out for a coffee or something? you look so pretty today, i'm sure i'm not the only one who noticed. i want to show you off, angel." you roll your eyes, so that's it. "you think someone else thinks i'm pretty?" there's a long pause, but you know what he's thinking, "babe, he's just a friend. you're my everything, y'know that, right?" he sighs, pulling you into his lap, "you figured me out, huh? i can never hide around you, why is that?" he seems to be asking himself rather than you, but you answer anyways, "because i love you, and you love me—our hearts are tied together, i always know what you're thinking, like now," you reach down to stroke him through his pants, pleased to find him already hard, "why don't i remind you how much i love you, huh?"

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 tries to look away when he sees you talking to another guy at a party the mafia is having, disgusted by the way the man smiles at you so slyly, clearly interested in you—but you've always been so adorably oblivious to how other people look at you with such admiration and lust, completely unaware of your own beauty. he's used to others flirting with you, but what is surprising is that you seem to be quite interested in the conversation, despite the way the man is slowly moving closer to you with each passing second. are you into him? no, you couldn't be—chuuya is your everything, you've told him as much many times, and though he's never been one to surrender to insecurity, after working for the mafia for so many years, he doesn't really trust anyone except you. it isn't long before he's approaching you, and though he wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, he hesitates. "everything alright?" "oh, chuuya! yes, everything's great. [name] here was just telling me about his most recent mission, it's quite fascinating." when he gets a bit closer, chuuya realizes he recognizes the man, and gently tugs on your arm, "come on, love, let's go." you're a little surprised but follow him anyways, waving goodbye to your new acquaintance. "chuuya? what's wrong?" your heels click on the floor quickly before chuuya presses your back into a hidden corner of the room, kissing you deeply and passionately. you're breathless when he pulls away, "that guy's a scumbag, you deserve better." you're utterly confused at his words—you've always been chuuya's—but your thoughts escape you when his lips are on yours again, and you choose not to question it, gently tugging at his belt before suggesting the two of you retire to your room for the evening. "i'm not sure what's bothering you, but i'll fix it, babe."

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 hates himself for it, but he's a little jealous when you rave about your new favorite anime character. he's your background on your phone and the inspiration for a few plushies on your bed, and though he doesn't feel threatened, he wishes your attention was on him instead. the last thing he wants is to be controlling—it just isn't in his nature—he loves that you have hobbies you enjoy so much! but you've been distracted lately, and he's been missing your sweet kisses and cuddles. he never thought he'd find himself growing so soft, he has such a weakness for you that makes him nervous, but he's been so busy and stressed about work lately—your pretty eyes locked with his as you snuggle up against him, looking up at him and running your hand through his hair with all the love in the world in your eyes, would be a salve to all of his worries. it isn't really a decision when he brings it up, it just comes out one day, "would you be open to me watching this show with you? i'd like to be a part of this new interest of yours, since it makes you. . . so happy." you easily detect the discouraged tone in his voice, and click the tv off. "c'mere, ryu, what's wrong?" "nothing," he states matter-of-factly, but you understand the implication behind his tone—he's been lonely. "why don't we spend the day together?" you run your fingers through his hair, "your hair's a little messy, want me to cut it for you? i'll make you dinner, too, what are you in the mood for?" his heart swells at your offer, "i'd really enjoy that, i've missed you lately. i've been working too much, but i'm glad you've been keeping busy."

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 always thought you were his—from the moment you told him you'd be his girlfriend, you were his greatest treasure, he told himself he'd never do anything to lose you. but when he sees you laughing and twirling your hair with a new guy, he can only assume that's the case. he must have done something wrong—worked too much, didn't tell you you're pretty enough, something. it seems like you're having fun with this new person—sigma tells himself he never made you smile that way, doesn't make you laugh as hard, and he's ashamed of that. when you two crawl into bed later that night, you notice sigma doesn't seem as cuddly or affectionate as usual. "baby? something wrong?" he frowns, but shakes his head 'no' anyways. "i'm fine, just tired." you aren't buying it, and when he wraps the blanket around himself, his body laid on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible, you need to know—he's your sweetest love, you can't bear the thought of him suffering. you sit up and flick on the light, "baby, please talk to me. did i do something?" he sighs, but eventually decides to open up to you, and you're happy to tell him your "new guy" is only a friend—sigma is the one you really want, and truthfully, he's a little embarrassed he thought otherwise. "i'm sorry, love, i guess i'm just insecure." you brush your fingers over his cheek, "you're not insecure, sweetie, you just love me—and i love you, just as much. i'm never letting you go, you're everything i've ever wanted." he smiles and finally snuggles into you, "thank you for loving me, i don't deserve you."

[itsfairly]

if no one is going to talk about nanami's suspenders, i will.

nanami dresses really professionally, who else is going to wear a suit when going to fight curses? but it's the way he dresses professionally that it's interesting. sure, the colors on his suit aren't the most common combination to see in an office job, but when you focus on the pieces, you can tell he puts an effort into looking that way. slacks ironed right in the middle to get that prominent line, how he always makes sure to shine his shoes before they become too dull, and then his suspenders...god, you still remember the first he took them off in front of you.

you see, his suit can be pretty deceiving, hiding all his body underneath it. not just skin, but also build. so its no surprise if some things get tight around his body. Some things being said suspenders.

once the blazer was off and nanami placed his cleaver away, he sat on the bed with his back facing you as he unclasped the clips of his suspenders, the small click-click getting your attention from your phone as you stole a quick glance at him. you didn't thought much of it at first until you hear a quiet, but very noticeable in the silent room, groan as he slipped the garment off, making your heart skip a beat.

from there on, you continued to enjoy the view in silence, mentally thanking that his back was facing you and he wouldn't notice you staring. his shirt was the next to go, agonizingly slow as he worked through the buttons with the little energy he had from his mission today. but once unbuttoned, nanami took the shirt off and you felt your heart make its presence to you once more as it beat faster and faster. not because more skin was exposed to you, but because you understood why it was his suspenders that made him groan.

they were tight around his body, and after a day's work, they had left marks behind.

you dont know why the sight captivated you so badly. i mean, he wore something so elegant to work, something other people wouldn't wear given his line of work, something that probably left his skin sore. but god, you would be lying his seeing those marks didn't spark something in you.

but now, the backseat to this sight didn't satisfy you enough, so you stood up, walking to the other side of the room to steal a glance or two under the pretense of getting a sweater. if his back was a sight, the front was just as much. the x shape on his back extended over to his shoulder, draping the marks down his chest in two lines until they ended on both his sides. it was hard to play off the glances, having to remind yourself that you shouldn't be too obvious as you turned to your closet and search for your excuse (a sweater).

in a weird way, those marks were almost erotic, reminding you that nanami is much more muscular than his clothes make him seen. after all, just how tight (and how long) those suspenders could be if they left such marks? you just wanted to trace them with your fingers, letting the marks dictate where you would caress, feeling the slight dents in his skin as you soothed them over with your lips as you kissed over them, hearing him sigh and groan the more you went south until you...

"something wrong?" nanami asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turned your head to look at him.

"just choosing a sweater. i got chilly," you smiled at him, taking whatever sweater as quickly slipping it on.

nanami, to your dismay, had already changed out of his clothes and into his sweatpants, hiding away those marks that had caught your attention so quickly. he stood up from the bed, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around you with a chuckle.

"my darling is cold? i can't have that, you know?" he said, rubbing your sides affectionately to warm you up, not that he needed to when you were already quite hot and bothered now. "i can make you some tea if you want."

you chuckled, ignoring his hands on you (otherwise you would push him onto the bed when his body was probably too sore for that). turning around to face him, you place your hands on his shoulders to try and sneak a touch over where his suspenders would be, making you feel that anticipation was your hands roam down to rest on his chest as if you were already following along his marks.

"sounds nice, love," you nod, letting him taking your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

maybe next time you would get a chance to feel those marks. this time, skin to skin. even better, take off those suspenders yourself.

[mayaree-darling]

just a bit of luck your way // Self Aware Wuthering Waves (Jiyan)

Pairing(?): SelfAware!Jiyan and Player!Reader

Synopsis: You're one of the many players who started playing Wuthering Waves on release and of course the main thing you waited for is pulling for Jiyan.

From Mayaree: celebrating rn coz i got Jiyan and his weapon on my first 10 pull on each banner (dont know if that's supposed to happen but still a celebration).

CW: self aware au; no concrete spoilers because i just reached a little past level 20; swearing; second person pov (you, your, etc.)

Word Count: 2.8k (unedited)

Surely, surely there was something wrong with this game. You know for a fact you ain't that lucky - especially in these anime gacha games - so either there was something wrong with this game or the devs were just that giving to their players.

You had decided to play Wuthering Waves on a whim, caught up on the excited chatter you've been hearing all over the internet at its coming release. Patiently waiting for the servers to open worldwide, you sat down on your cozy chair with some snacks and a drink, ready to play. A grin ticks your lips upwards as you're taken to choosing your character.

You gotta say, the game is pretty amazing on your first run. Attack, parry, dodge. Seems simple enough. With a few fights, you were getting used to the routine and the enemies' patterns. If you had to nitpick something, though-

"This feels a little too easy." You were by no means an overly skilled player, as far as you were aware. Maybe it's because you're just barely past the start of the game, but it feels like the enemies were dying a bit too quickly. And you were only dealing like 10 damage per swing.

But just as you say it, you sit up in your chair in attention. Did… did they just get harder to kill? No, wait, you did just raise your Union Level, so maybe that's why. The enemies' attack patterns are slightly more advanced and although you're dealing more damage, their health bars are keeping up with you. Well, you were complaining earlier, so maybe this was a good thing? You keep playing, now being kept on your toes during combat.

After grinding a bit more - how much time have you spent already? Not enough, you think - you finally unlock what you've been waiting for this whole time.

The gacha system.

You're no stranger to gacha games. If anything, it's the reason you played this game in the first place. Sure the combat was nice, but what was better than collecting these prettily designed anime men and women and running around with them on the open world map? Nothing was more fulfilling than staring at your growing roster of playable characters the longer you played the game.

And for Wuthering Waves, the first addition to your would-be collection appears on the screen.

You'd be lying if you said you were going into the game blind. With the amount of Jiyan videos you've seen from the betas and leaks, you may as well have played him for a month now. From idle animations to his forte attack, you watched as many videos available as you could. And each one solidified for you that you needed to pull for him. That man was coming home one way or another.

Grinding a little more astrite by doing a couple of missions here and there - you had 1,300 astrite, just a little more for the home goal and then- you were ready. Sure it's just a meager 10 pulls but it was definitely a start. And you never know… right? You click the 10 pull button and-

OH??? SHIT, WAS THAT GOLD JUST NOW???? YOU KNOW FOR A FACT GOLD IS A GOOD THING, RIGHT??? You click through the 3-star results as quick as you can and- YEAH YEAH THAT'S HIS ANIMATION IT'S HIM HE'S HOME IT'S JIYAN!

You all but kick the chair away and bump your whole lower half on the table as you jump up in joy. You may as well be doing backflips while you're at it. You got him??? On the first 10 pull, no less???? This game was spoiling you holy shit. And it's only been a day.

Immediately heading over to the characters screen, you go to Jiyan's profile and just. Stare at him. Basking in the fact that you played this game on day 1, got the first available limited 5 star, and on your first fucking 10 pull.

Holy shit.

You scream into a pillow and hope your housemates don't hear. Or maybe they should hear because this has got to be the luckiest day of your life and you'd flex it on their faces if they understood the gacha game hype. Going back to the screen, Jiyan is doing one of his idles, twirling around his spear. My god, he looked glorious. His whole appearance was both beautiful and imposing. He looked so cool, hot damn.

"I'll be relying on you from now on, general." You grin once more and spin your chair with a whoop.

You level him up as high as you can, using all the leveling materials available at the moment. He's capped out at 20 right now because you did just start playing and still haven't unlocked character ascension, but you're willing to grind more just to raise him. You even move him to the first spot in your team (sorry, Rover, you can take the next spot).

You head on over to training, to gather some weapon and leveling materials but also because you want to test him out in battle. Damn it all, those beta videos of him didn't disappoint. He was just as good, if not even better since you're the one playing him right now.

He was definitely fun to play with. Of course, all the characters are fun to play with, but Jiyan was twice as fun. Would it be bold to say it was like you were meant to play as him? Suddenly the game is easier again. But not because the enemies are easy to kill, more so you feel like you're able to move better. You seem to be able to time dodging and parrying a lot better, even knowing when to attack at the best moment. Clearly, it was a really good decision to pull for him.

When you've grinded enough - he's level 40 now and you've fully accepted you're in this game for the long run - you go to level up his 4-star broadblade and then stop. You've saved up enough astrite for another 10 pull, right? Maybe you still have some luck left from the Jiyan pull, so… maybe?

"What do you think, Jiyan? Do I go for it?" You laugh at the absurdity of your one sided conversation. "I think you deserve your main weapon."

To your surprise, you watch as he laughs once, shaking his head and looking away with a barely noticeable smile (it's hard to tell with your gadget's graphics, but you definitely heard him). Was… was that part of his idle animations? You make a split-second decision to check his profile. Uh, no? No, it wasn't? Where'd that come from??? Well, maybe it was a secret animation plugged in by the devs. Game devs did like adding a little secret every now and then, right?

Anyways, although indirectly, Jiyan just gave you his answer. You were pulling for his weapon. You mean, there's still like 20 days left for you to pull if you don't get it right away, so there's no harm in building pity right now. Right? Right. To the gacha you go.

Breathing out - maybe a small prayer to the gacha gods in your head - you click the 10 pull button on the limited-time weapon banner-

WAITWAITWAITWAIT WAS THAT FUCKING GOLD??? AGAIN??? THERE'S NO SHOT. THERE'S NO FUCKING SHOT THAT THIS IS-

You stare at the golden glowing weapon on your screen in disbelief. A second passes, and then another as you stare at the green and gold broadblade. Verdant Summit. In the flesh. Excitement follows soon after like a tidal wave. You're off your chair in the next second again, fist-pumping the air like no tomorrow. You don't even care if your housemates hear you jumping around this time.

"JIYAN, LOOK, WE ACTUALLY GOT YOUR WEAPON!" You think you hear someone knock at your walls but you could care less right now.

When you're seated and back to your screen, you immediately equip the blade to Jiyan and stare again. Fuck, he really did look cool. With the sword, he's even twice as cool. Okay, he was hot, you're not gonna sugarcoat it. He was both in equal measure. You try swinging the blade around and breathe out in awe.

"It looks like it was made for you," you laugh. Well, surely it was. The blade was designed for him from the moment it was created, but still. You hear his little laugh again, but the animation seems to be cut short when you accidentally slash. Whoops.

When the excitement dies down, exhaustion sets in. You look at the time. Damn, it was that late? You really played the game for a whole day? Woof.

But you think it was well worth it as you watch Jiyan with his weapon in action. You finish up battling with a few more enemies before leaning back on your chair, content. Silly as it may be, you wish your team goodnight before logging off for the day.

Jiyan waits until he can't hear your voice or feel the warmth that overtakes him whenever you use him before he moves. He groans as he stretches. You really did enjoy using him to explore Solaris 3, no doubt about that. Not that he was complaining.

Far from it, really.

"Cheater." Jiyan blinks once before turning around. Rover stands there, arms crossed with a frown set upon their face. Jiyan could tell there was no real bite to their expression or words, but he still found it rather funny.

"Are you talking to me, Rover?" Jiyan's voice is calm and collected, but he can feel the corner of his mouth tick upwards ever so slightly.

"You know what you did." Rover scoffs, still lacking actual bite. It was more like teasing, if anything. "You wanted to make them happy that much?"

"Is it not possible I just wanted to visit Jinzhou for a bit? Their goals and mine simply aligned at the moment and I used the opportunity." A lie, but not quite.

Yes, he did want to visit Jinzhou. Word had reached him of the new Rover who even the Magistrate had taken a keen interest to. He wanted to make sure they weren't anything dangerous, despite the prophecy. Jué knows the last thing they need is the Midnight Rangers at the Norfall Barriers and an ambush in the main city.

But the moment he arrived, things were very different. For one, the very Rover he was so wary of ended up working with him in a small team of three. The Rover was no normal person, either. Yes, Jiyan could tell that they were strong and would be able to get stronger at a rapid pace. But they also seemed too observant. How should he put it? It felt like they were seeing something else he couldn't. Or they were seeing everything differently.

And then he felt it for himself.

Your voice is warm but thunderous, and yet it was not painful for the ears. Loud with excitement he can't quite understand. You're excited… that you have him? You even said you would rely on him from now on. He could laugh at how easy you were to please. Something so simple and you were already so happy. Maybe it's simply your emotions leaking into his own soul, but he could feel the genuine joy that you were feeling. He prides himself for choosing to come home as soon as he could if only to share in your happiness. He wanted to understand whatever it is that makes you so excited. After so much bloodshed, your joy felt like a breath of fresh air he hadn't taken in so long.

As you use him to walk around the world and fight Tacet Discords, it felt like he was seeing the world for the first time again. Maybe this is what the Rover was seeing with their observant eyes. Jiyan felt like he was experiencing Solaris 3 for the first time once again. Whenever you gasped at the sights of high cliffs and the boundless sky, he may as well be sighing in amazement with you.

"Right… Took the opportunity. Sure." Rover raised an eyebrow. "And the broadblade?"

Jiyan shrugs. "I find that I work better with a familiar weapon." Another lie, but not quite.

He didn't mind using another weapon. His skills lay in his own sharpened abilities, not in whatever object he had on hand. He could manage fine with any other broadblade you gave him, and he trusted you to help him fight. You fumbled a little bit here and there, made him attack a little recklessly at times, but you were doing your best. Jiyan could count on you in battle.

However, when you asked him if he wanted his weapon, he stopped. Having his sword on hand would do him good, of course. As he told the Rover, he fights even better with Verdant Summit. But, there was something about you asking his opinion. He knows you cannot read his thoughts. And yet you asked. It felt rather nice… A connection between you both. A familiarity he did not expect but was definitely not unwelcome.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. To his surprise, you actually hear him. He frowns at the short panic this causes (did you not want to hear from him after all?), but thankfully you move on from it quickly enough. You take his laugh as a good sign and decide to acquire his weapon.

When he saw the shooting stars alight the waters below, Jiyan pondered for a second. Surely, there won't be any harm in helping you a bit, right? He reaches down and touches one of the stars, immediately making it light a glowing golden light as it shoots to the sky. He feels your joy before he hears it and with it, his own chest is filled with warmth.

There's a silence that overtakes you when you see the weapon that makes Jiyan worried. Did… you not want his weapon after all? But that can't be right, you even asked him for his thoughts. Or did you sense that you received it without effort? Did you realize he helped you get it? Maybe he shouldn't have meddled with your abilities.

Before he can overthink and sink into a spiral of doubt, your screams of joy and the sound of you jumping around in pure happiness fill his ears. Jiyan breathes out in relief, another small smile making its way to his lips. He was worried for nothing. Maybe you were just shocked for a little bit. Did you think he would not help you get it? He knew you would, he just helped you receive it earlier than you would have. He may or may not have simply wished to hear your joyous laughter at the moment.

As you give him Verdant Summit, he tests its weight and familiarity in his hand and perform a couple of swings (maybe he wanted to show it off a bit for you, just a touch). You think it was made for him? Well surely it was, and yet the comment makes him laugh a little more. You've been making him a laugh for a while now.

You enjoy a few more moments with him, battling together. He enjoys them as well, if he was honest, as you spend the time praising him and being in awe. It was rather embarrassing if he was honest, but he appreciated it all the same. Before he knew it, time had flown in an instant. You bid him and the others goodnight before leaving, and he knows you leave with a smile on your lips.

"Uh-huh. Right. I definitely believe you." Rover laughs. "Don't think I didn't see you smile, General Jiyan."

Almost on instinct, Jiyan covers his mouth with a hand, looking away. It barely concealed his embarrassment. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Be careful the others don't catch you helping them too much." Baizhi suddenly speaks from the side. She was so quiet Jiyan almost forgot she was there. The Rover smiles teasingly, before they turn around with a small wave. Baizhi follows soon after with a nod. "Chixia's already complaining that they're showing you too much favoritism."

"I- yes, of course. Thank you for the advice, Baizhi." Jiyan clears his throat.

Was it that obvious? Most likely. Rover and Baizhi may have seen too much considering they've been traveling together for a while now, but if even the others were noticing his closeness to you then he was doing a poor job at hiding it. However, was there really a need to hide it? The others did not try hiding their favor for the warm voice they hear and who guides them. So, there was no need to hide it himself, was there?

He spins his newly obtained sword - an old companion, but he felt like he was seeing it for the first time all over again, with better memories attached to it - and smiles softly. Yes, there was no need to hide how he favored your connection to him. It wouldn't even be a bold claim for him to say he was happy that he had made the decision to come when you called for him.

Jiyan hopes you stay with him for a while longer, if only to see what you see, feel happiness the way you do. He'd like that a lot.

From Mayaree: Said I was gonna write Self Aware Star Rail but I just got too excited. Thank you, WuWa.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[arieslost]

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: angst ig

gn reader

Gojo has loved you forever.

When the two of you were toddlers, he was never shy about kissing you and holding your hand. It was only when the two of you began school that he was taught that it wasn’t proper – a schooling that made him frown.

But his love for you never dimmed despite it. Growing up, he became nothing shy of a true bully pulling his crush’s pigtails. He’d flash his six-eyes and limitless techniques and tease you for your subpar cursed energy – often rescuing you like a faux knight in shining armor.

But despite acting like your older brother – he’s really been dreaming of you in carnal ways ever since he first found out what sex was.

Which is why he’d sling his arm around your shoulder when you were talking with other guys – having grown up so tall, he’d have to all but bow in order to level with the small fries – a sly smirk on his lips with his shades low on his nose.

“Ah – I didn’t know you had a boyfriend – I’m sorry.” They’d always stutter – feeling the chills of those icy blues pierce through to their bones.

“Ugh, Gojo – get off – you’re too heavy.” You’d argue in a familiar whine, shoving at his lanky shape – already fuming. “He’s not my boyfriend – he’s just a dumbass with no respect for personal space.”

“Oh – I’m more than that~” He’d insist. “Y’know, we got married on the playground when we were six.”

You’d roll your eyes at his attics. Huffing out a growl at him. But no amount of clenched fists and angry brows could hide the embarrassment. And ultimately, no guy really dared try their luck with you after being introduced to the white-haired childhood friend giving them death glares.

Which is why it’s baffling when he finds out about the wedding.

He’d seen you less and less over the years. He’d been busy as the newly awakened honored one – new missions almost every day. 

You’d capped out as a second-grade sorcerer and decided to become a teacher in Kyoto – sent out on missions every now and again, but mostly just to supervise students. 

He’d been glad you settled on something safe and not something you’d sooner end up being killed – like him. But he wasn’t overly fond that you’d chosen Kyoto over Tokyo where he could keep an eye on you.

But he supposes that’s exactly why you’d done it.

He knows he coddles you – knows you’ve always hated it – knows you hate it because you know he’s right to do it – knows you’d be dead if it weren’t for him.

How could you marry someone else? How could you choose anyone other than him?

He doesn’t respond to the invite. Doesn’t answer when you call. 

He’s gone for several months. 

You know through the assistant supervisors that he’s still accepting missions – out on the prowl, killing curses – doing little else.

You try to deny knowing why he’s upset. You love him like family, but he’s always been a child with too many toys – you, one of them. This is him throwing a fit over someone else taking what’s his.

But you know he’ll come to his senses after cooling off. You know he’ll be at the wedding – all smiles – if not happy, then pretending for your sake. 

In all his strange ways, you know that he loves you. And despite being childish, you know he’ll do the adult thing and let you go.

The two of you would never have worked. Which is why you’ve never given in to his googly eyes – that hand on your thigh when the two of you’d been drinking – that lingering stare resting on your lips – and those silver-toned words on his.

He’s with someone new every other week despite his unfair hold on you – keeping you for himself – placing you on a shelf among the other things he hopes he’ll one day grow into – like a pair of shoes bought a size too big.

But you know he’ll never get there. He’ll never mature enough to hold a relationship for any longer than a month or so – never mature enough to settle down somewhere and not hotel-hop from one five-star to the next – never mature enough to respect you the same way he respects himself – never mature enough to commit to anything but himself.

The two of you could never be a couple. You could never love each other in the ways you want to be loved. He would want you to stay at home and wait for him to come back – longingly as a sweet housewife would – and you’d want him to encourage you in your respectful career – happy for you like a supportive husband would. None of it matched.

You love him, but you would never be happy with him. You would never feel respected. 

So, that night when the two of you’d shared a kiss – you’d held him at arm's length and told him it was a mistake – that it would only serve to ruin your friendship. 

He’d taken it as you being flighty – just a cute road bump before you’d finally realize you were meant for him – before you’d come running to his arms with pretty tears dropping from your eyes while throwing yourself at him – all apologies and confessions and desperate kisses – telling him you couldn't live without him.

But there you are…

Walking down the aisle for someone else.

[ovaryacted]

FORGOTTEN DREAMS

PAIRING: DI!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: Coming back from his mission to Alcatraz, Leon wasn't expecting to have old desires from his past haunt him at his current age. Being his partner, you comfort him and try to fulfill his hidden wishes.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Smut. Porn with some plot. Angsty at the beginning. Brief talks of trauma. Established relationship (Leon & Reader are engaged/married). Assumed ages (Leon is 38, Reader is an adult so 25+). Breeding Kink (reciprocated both ways). Mating Press. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p/v). Oral Sex (f receiving). Dirty Talk. Multiple Orgasms. Domesticity. Intimacy. Relationship conversations.

WC: 3.6k

NOTES: Hey, surprise surprise. I don't know where this came from, but I just started thinking about older Leon as a dad, and paired with me ovulating, I came up with this. Wanted to get something out before the end of the year, so I hope you like it. Happy New Year from wherever you are! Comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

Leon always believed he couldn’t have the things he’s always wanted, that he was destined for a life of misery.

Ever since that night in September all those years ago, he’d lost hope of the idea of the American Dream, a fantasy that was destroyed by the horrors of the same country he was forced to serve and protect. He once imagined his life would be different, living in the suburbs in a house with a white picket fence. Perhaps he’d have a pretty spouse, a few kids, maybe even a dog, he was always fond of bloodhounds and golden retrievers.

But of course, that wasn’t his reality.

So he accepted his fate the moment he miraculously made it out alive from Raccoon City, letting go of any control he had to change his life. He didn’t expect to live this long in the first place, foregoing any extensive plans for a future that remained uncertain with every mission he was sent on. No matter what he did, he remained stuck in a never-ending loop of dread, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop to be released from the torment of a life he did not choose to have.

That was, until he met you. He didn’t know how he managed to get so lucky to experience a sense of normalcy in his life, albeit it felt like he was always dreaming, waiting for the moment he’d wake up and see you slip away in his arms.

But you didn’t, you never left.

Leon wakes up every morning with the opportunity to take a glimpse at your sleeping face, taking every feature you had into memory. You granted him the chance to experience domesticity, something that was foreign to him at first, but he got adjusted to it and quickly began to crave it. You were what he wanted, a chance at peace in the hellscape that was his life. And over time, he didn’t have a doubt in his mind when he popped the question and happily slipped a ring on your finger when you told him yes.

Having someone waiting back at home was another added motivation for Leon to make it out alive, to return to you. All he ever wants is to be able to fall asleep in your arms after a long day, to have his head nuzzling into your neck and hear you giggling when his stubble tickled you too much. It was what he needed, and he silently thought that after all this time, as long as he had you he’d be happy.

That was why when he came back after his mission to Alcatraz, his new thoughts began to take him off guard. The same desires he had buried for so long slipped out of the crevices of his mind and began to plague him. The desire for more, for the things he never thought he could have. It was like his biological time clock was quickly turning into a ticking time bomb of anxiety ready to explode if it were suppressed any longer. He already had more than what he bargained for, he was alive, he had a home, and he had you. That should be enough, more than enough.

So why does he want more? Wanting anything else felt wrong and undeserving, so he never vocalized it. But you could tell something was on his mind and had been bothering him since he had returned.

It first started with the longing stares, where you’d often catch Leon looking your way a bit too fondly, as if he were taking you in for the last time before looking away. He was always an affectionate person, at least around you, but he was growing clingy. He was never that far away, usually holding your hand and caressing your fingers, cuddling up with you, and stroking your body whenever he could. Not to mention the sex, it was always passionate, always fun, and enjoyable, but recently it was as if Leon did it so frequently with so much vigor that you almost got worried.

No matter how calm he seemed, you knew him well enough to read him by now, and the small changes in his behavior showed you that something else was going on, that he was acting differently. 

“You’re thinking again”, you stated matter-of-factly, watching Leon stare off in the distance as he rubbed his bottom lip over and over again. Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present as he glanced at you.

“I’m getting old”, he said with a sigh, rubbing your legs that were currently propped up on his thighs from where you lay on the bed with him.

“You’re not getting old, you’re getting older. Big difference”, you commented, hearing him chuckle under his breath. That wasn’t entirely what he meant, but he didn’t know how to say what he wanted without possibly scaring you away or jinxing himself.

“Are you happy? With me I mean?”, he asked you the question in a soft tone, not to signal that he was unhappy with your relationship, but rather he was thinking about something regarding you being together.

“Of course I am. You make me happy. I wouldn’t have said yes if that wasn’t the case”, you told him reassuringly, moving closer to him to hold him by the cheek.

“I guess what I’m asking is are you happy with just me, just us”, Leon said the question as if he were afraid, and you raised an eyebrow to gauge his reaction.

“Leon, if you want to get a pet or something we can. I think a cat would be kinda nice”, you said to him, and he looked at you with a wide grin before he laughed, actually laughed. For a second you’re assuming you said something wrong, but when he regains his bearings, he grabs a hold of your hand and runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Although a pet sounds good, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about”, he offered you a smile, giving you a second to think harder about his suggestion when he could see the lightbulb going off at the top of your head.

Kids?

“You’ve been thinking about kids?”

“Is it bad that I am?”

In a way, the revelation that Leon was thinking of having a family was surprising and took you off guard. When you met him, he initially struck you as a family man or someone who would want that down the line. So when he told you that wasn’t on his mind nor a goal of his, you took his word for it and stayed with him because that didn’t bother you, you loved him anyway. Now, it seems that he’s had a change of heart, and it sparked your interest.

“Well no…I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Thought you told me you never wanted them?”, you asked him, leaning into him closer and putting a warm hand on his chest.

“I said that because I didn’t think I could have them. But since coming back from Alcatraz…I don’t know, I keep thinking about it”, he shrugged under you, not meeting your gaze and looking down to the floor.

“I wanted a family when I was younger, but with all the shit I went through I just didn’t think it was possible, or that I could have it. So I simply forgot about it. But now..it popped back into my head and I’ve been thinking about it for a while”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, seeing the gears turning in his mind. 

“It’s probably the old man hormones or something, I must be having a mid-life crisis”, he was joking, trying to use his humor to downplay how he felt, the way he usually did when he was dealing with something that made him uneasy.

“Babe, if you’re thinking about having kids you should’ve told me. I don’t mind you know, I think it’s endearing”, you whispered to him, now holding his face in your hands and offering him your warm gaze.

“So you don’t think I’m crazy for wanting them? Now of all times? I don’t think I should be wanting more than I already have”, you shook your head at that, knowing that Leon would feel guilty for having desires, that he had no room to be selfish.

“I think you deserve to have everything you want, regardless of what they may be. And if kids are on the list, then that’s okay, it’s what you want”, you were speaking to him in a confident voice, the one you used when you were trying to gently knock some sense into him.

“I don’t even know if you want them, with me anyway”, his eyebrows furrowed, hellbent on the assumption that you wouldn’t think twice about avoiding having children, much less have them with him.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about them you know”, his eyes widened at your confession, and your smile turned a bit sheepish.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Guess the hormones are also working overtime for me”

Leon blinked once, then twice. You fixated on the way the blues of his irises shifted, reminiscent of the clear sky after a storm had passed. But in reality, what you were looking at was hope interwoven in his eyes, a rare emotion that you’ve only seen a handful of times.

“Is that a yes then?”, you could see the way his lips began to curl up, an optimistic grin plastered on his face now, looking for an answer that would calm the excited beating of his heart. 

“If you want to try, then we can try. And whatever happens, happens”, you reassured him once more, feeling him sit up straighter on the bed to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, you know that?”

“You’ve told me a few times, but I don’t mind reminders”, you grinned at him, finding yourself tackled to the bed the next moment with laughs filling the room.

-

The next few days felt like a blur, basking in the domestic bliss that otherwise would’ve been a rarity for Leon, he found ways to keep you occupied.

Just like he did now.

Currently with your back on the bed, Leon’s head was between your plush thighs, lapping away at your cunt sometime at noon. It was Sunday, a day of rest meant to hide away from all of your responsibilities and chores. But of course, Leon had different plans when it came to keeping you busy.

“Fuck Leon”, you said with a loud moan, a light layer of sweat covering your body as your fingers yanked at his head, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. Leon groaned against you, tongue curling around your pulsing clit and forcing an arch in your back.

He already pulled one release out of you earlier, right after he found you on the couch wearing nothing but a worn-out T-shirt of his you stole years ago. He couldn’t help but fall in between your legs, head against your chest so he could listen to your heart beating in his ear. The comforting rhythm put Leon at ease, his hands running down the length of your thighs and kneading at your skin while you watched whatever show was currently on the screen. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, already seeing the mischievousness he had written all over his face.

“What are you doing?”, your attention moved from the TV screen to the top of his head, focused on the movement of his hands on your body.

“Nothing”, he told you playfully, his hands were already slipping under the edge of where your shirt covered the top of your hips. He shifted higher up to place a kiss on your lips, moving to your neck and nipping at you gently.

“Just keep watching your show”

It was the last thing he told you before his fingers found refuge in the welcoming warmth of your pussy, rubbing at your clit as you quickly forgot about the plot twist happening in front of you. He was a distraction, as he always was, but you’d never turn him away, you couldn’t even if you tried. And now, you were willingly paying the price of his affection.

Heat started to build up in your lower spine the more you felt Leon’s mouth on you, his needy tongue flicking against every sensitive spot you had before burrowing inside you. It was muscle memory for him, knowing exactly what to do and how to make you fall apart with skill. With every moan you gave, every twitch and shake of your body, Leon drank it all, trying to drown himself in the intensity of your pleasure whenever he had you like this. In between your legs, sucking away at where you needed him most, it was where he belonged.

Your hips were against his face, grinding into him and having his nose press into your clit again, pulling another airy whimper out of you. His hair was wrapped around your fingers, trying to listen in to the shameless sounds Leon made when more of your slick entered his mouth. To him, you tasted like honey, sweet on his tongue like molasses. It was something that curbed his sweet tooth, completely addicted to a taste that only you created when he made you feel good.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck f-fuck”, you didn’t need to announce it, Leon already knew from the way your walls were pulsating around his tongue that you were getting close.

Slipping away from your clenching hole, his tongue went up to run circles against your nub, sucking at it in pulses and snapping the rope of tension in your gut. Your breathing remained stuck in your throat as your second release ran through you, your shaky thighs pinned to his broad shoulders and his mouth continued to prolong your climax. He didn’t stop until the waves of your orgasm calmed down and ebbed away, where only a light pleasurable numbness remained and a dumb smile was left on your face.

No longer feeling you convulsing around him, Leon gave your clit one last kiss before coming back up from between your legs, matching your smile with one of his own. Plush lips covered in your essence, his charm radiated off of him every time he achieved the feat of making you cum.

“Feel good?”, he said teasingly, meshing his lips with yours with a pleasant hum. His tongue curled around your own, giving you a taste of yourself that you graciously took and reveled in. 

“I feel good, but I can feel better”, you drew away from his face, giving him a smirk and tugging him closer to you by the waistband of his briefs. With a sneaky hand, you slipped your fingers underneath the soft cotton, gripping his hard length to touch him properly. You heard him grunt again, his breath hitching when you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered at him.

“I want you inside me already”, you practically purred at him, a shiver running through him followed by another chuckle. Your vulgarity wasn’t new, but it was always something Leon found amusing.

“Yeah? You need me to fuck you sweetheart?”, he wasn’t asking you necessarily, more so reiterating facts that didn’t need your confirmation. Because you did want him to fuck you, you needed it and he knew it. Your hazy eyes watched as he stripped off his briefs, instinctively opening your legs for him, a silent invitation that you craved more.

“Want you to fuck a baby into me”

For a second Leon froze, his eyes widening at your words as they rang in his head. The phrase alone did something to him, brought out a new primal instinct he didn’t know existed until now. It festered carnal lust deep in his gut that shot in two directions, up towards his chest with his heart beating rapidly, and in the opposite way where all of his blood began rushing down south. He blinked at you, the blues of his eyes darkening to a sharp cobalt, and in the next second, he was on you so quickly it almost gave you whiplash.

The tip of his cock teased your entrance with two rubs before being sheathed deep inside in one easy thrust. Your body gave no resistance, welcoming the feeling of Leon stretching you out just the way you liked. Strong hands digging into the back of your thighs, he pushed your knees down against the mattress and closer to your chest, letting him slip that much deeper into you and leaving you gasping underneath him.

Dragging his hips back once before slamming back into you with intention, Leon fucked you without restraint, pinning you down against the mattress and ruining you for any other person, past, present, and future. He didn’t change his pace, filling in every possible gap, his dick hitting your deepest spots and kissing your cervix with every push and pull of his body. You swear you could feel him trying to breach your womb, the thought alone turning your head to mush. The urge of wanting him to leave his mark inside you grew like never before, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with another broken sob coming from your lips.

“Gonna fill you up. Is that what you want?”, he muttered, huffing out a breath and pounding his hips into you harshly to where the room filled with an audible skin-slapping sound.

“Yes, yes, I need it so bad!”, you felt him shift, forcing your knees down until they were parallel to your ears and effectively putting you into a mating press. His torso leaned more into you, caging you in and taking in your fucked out face with pride.

“Need me to breed you? Fuck a baby into you, huh?”, letting go of one of your legs to press his thumb against your clit, he rubbed against it and felt you clench around his cock. Your grip on the bedsheets tightened, bleary eyes looking up into him as he fucked you with determination.

“Yeah, I’ll make you a momma don’t you worry”

He said it like it was a promise, a sacred vow he didn’t plan on breaking. It was harsh fucking that was usually reserved for whenever you were both stressed and pent up. But now he was on a mission, making it his personal goal to not stop until he gave you what you both desired.

In the back of his mind, he was imagining what you would look like pregnant. The soft expanse of your stretched-out tummy that continues to grow as your child develops along with you. He pictured the way your body will start to fill in a bit more, becoming more soft and curvy in spots you didn’t consider previously. The heaviness of your breasts and the changes in sensitivity when they filled up with milk, something that he can’t wait to see and taste for himself. Every image that filled his head only made his cock throb and his thrusting intensify.

“Gonna look so pretty, all round for me”, he was lost in his thoughts, mumbling to himself and driving into you so good he hit that soft spot tucked inside. Your mind had turned to static, his words only bringing you that much closer to the edge and your legs shaking from how they were bent.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, make sure it catches, right here”, he placed a finger right underneath your belly button and pressed into your skin, the friction of his touch rapidly sending you into your next orgasm unexpectedly.

Throwing your head back against the pillow, you couldn’t warn Leon when you felt yourself coming again for him, your walls flexing around him and a wail filling the room. His thumb continued to stroke tight circles on your clit as he fucked you through your release, thrusting sloppily against you before cumming inside with a resounding grumble of your name. His hips were flushed with yours, grinding into you until he had nothing left to give, panting against your neck and kissing your nape.

You felt Leon slip out of you, gently putting your legs down back on the bed and his spend starting to drip down your thighs. With two of his fingers, he collected some of his release that spilled out of you and pushed it back inside your body, plugging you up with his digits to make sure none of it would dribble out.

“Can’t waste it, hold it there for me”, he said, making you keen and grip him tighter. Drawing out his fingers, he brought them to your lips, grinning when you wrapped your tongue around them to lick off the remnants of his taste.

“You think this one did it?”, you asked him tiredly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him soft pecks, growing clingy and wanting more of his affection.

“Hopefully, but there’s nothing wrong with a little more practice”, Leon smirked at you, giving you a wet passionate kiss and rekindling the flame of desire once more.

You knew that he wasn’t going to stop until he gave you what you both wanted, a happy family in a happy home. Of course, you had zero complaints, you’d do anything to make him happy and give him what he deserves.

Maybe just maybe, Leon will get his dream after all.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[sorrelchestnut]

I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.

A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!

Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.

Otherwise, your party consists of:

Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;

Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;

Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;

Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,

Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.

Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.

[moondirti]

sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.

cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI

he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.

the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.

for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.

if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.

the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.

maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–

your dog's cute. what's his name?

it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.

you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.

unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.

he's tired of holding back.