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#(adding more tags because i have so many ideas but!!!)
justauthoring · 1 day
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and i wonder... who? [3]
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somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)
a/n: operation true love is back and im back with this series :)))))))) (also apologies if you asked to be tagged and you're not tagged in this post, im sure im missing a few... just message me or comment on this if you still want to be tagged!)
pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader
tag list: @username23345 - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-witch - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-dam-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu let me know if you'd like to be added! please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged! (also tags show up when i edit but don't when i post??? if anyone knows how to fix this let me know)
you can find the masterlist here!
You could not believe your eyes.
The second you’d read that text, you’d convinced yourself you’d imagined it; blinking rapidly, rubbing at your eyes, even pinching yourself because there was just no way he’d actually texted you. Even if it was from an unknown number, it was clear who it was – seconds after bumping into him, him rudely blaming you and then calling you by that god-awful nickname, you get a text right after?
With the same nickname?
Yeah, it was clear who it was.
The past two days alone have been more than confusing. If it wasn’t Sukuna cheating on you, it was Geto suddenly acting like he cared about you even though for as long as you’ve known him, he’s done nothing but ignore you. And if he wasn’t ignoring you, he was glaring at you; giving you those eyes that made it clear what he thought of you. You were oblivious and you weren’t as dumb as you came across, it had been abundantly clear to you that Geto didn’t like you and even more, he probably thought you were pathetic.
And now? Now you had Gojo Satoru texting you? And why? Because you’d accidentally bumped into him in the hall? When, really, if anyone bothered to ask you, you’d guarantee it had been him who’d walked right into you – couldn’t a guy see when a girl was upset and needed a moment to herself?
Clearly, Gojo couldn’t.
The worst part was that Sukuna cheating on you seemed like the least shocking thing and that in of itself just seemed so cruel. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware – Sukuna treated you horribly. Sure, you were positive that at one point he really truly had liked you and maybe there was a way to get him to again, but that didn’t erase the fact that for the past few months he’s been nothing short of terrible to you. 
Dismissive of you, blatantly ignoring you, you can’t count on one hand how many times he’s laughed with his friends at you when you’ve wanted nothing more than him to defend you or at the very least comfort you.
So, yeah… him cheating on you? Wasn’t all that surprising. And you’re still not really sure how to feel about that.
Your mind is a jumbled mess throughout the entirety of class that you barely pay attention. When the teacher calls for lunch, you’re blinking yourself out of your stupor, jumping in your seat as everyone around you excitedly packs up their things. You probably look like an idiot sitting there watching everyone, stunned, face red when you realize you did not listen to a single thing your teacher was saying, until a hand falls on your arm.
Your eyes meet Shoko’s concerned ones.
“Y/N?”
You feel a buzz from your phone in your back pocket and the stupor is quickly replaced by anger.
There’s no way I’m letting him get away with calling me ‘sweet cheeks’.
You push yourself to a sudden stand, startling Shoko who lets out a tiny shriek in response, head jerking back to avoid being smacked by yours. Then, you’re grabbing your backpack and promptly turning around, making your way towards the door with a determined expression.
All while Shoko gapes at you; “Y-Y/N?!”
You’ll apologize later but you don’t have time to answer her distressed call. The second you’re outside the class, you’re pulling your phone from your pocket, glowering as you read the text.
Ignoring me? :(((
“Jerk,” you mumble to yourself, fingers moving quickly to reply.
Where are you?
And the reply comes almost instantly.
Why? Already missing me?
Jesus. What an egotistical guy.
Shaking your head, you focus on replying.
Just tell me where you are.
Your finger taps impatiently on the side of the phone while you wait.
In the hall outside the cafeteria.
The second you read those words, you start walking. Students eye you weirdly as you walk by, sending you confused looks and mumbling to each other in wonder of what your problem is; you’re not even aware that you’re practically stomping through the halls, footsteps echoing with each step you take. It only takes you three minutes before you spot Gojo, easily identifying him by his bright white-hair that sticks out like a sore thumb against all the blacks and browns.
He’s already looking in your direction the second you turn down the hall, and your glare darkens on the smirk on his face.
The second you reach him, you go to tell him off, but he cuts in before you can;
“Not gonna lose your footing this time because of how dashing I am?”
And his words are so shocking to you that you completely lose your train of thought, blinking as your lips part in disbelief and you gape up at him with your mouth left wide open. Gojo lets out a loud laugh in response to that, head thrown back in amusement as you feel your face burn.
“Wh-What!” You practically cry, “you’re the one who bumped into me! And I didn’t fall because of how you looked! I fell because you slammed into me!”
Raising a brow, Gojo simply crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, the smirk on his face never faltering.
You huff; “you’re infuriating.”
He snorts; “I've been told.”
Shaking your head, you focus on the reason why you wanted to see him in the first place. “How exactly did you even get my number, by the way?” You ask, holding your phone up for emphasis as you tilt your head at him accusingly. “And I want a real answer.”
Shuffling on his feet, Gojo shrugs; “just asked someone from my class. Some girl.”
Pausing, you sigh; “people need to learn not to just give my number out to anyone,” you mumble to yourself, annoyed. Gojo watches you with a raised brow and amused glance, enjoying the way your face twists expressively while you talk to yourself.
Then, your eyes focus back on his. You try not to lose your train of thought when you remember just how blue they are. 
“Whatever,” you brush off, lowering your hand. “Just don’t call me ‘sweet cheeks’ and don’t text me either.”
“But why else would I have got your number?” Gojo asks, the question is genuine.
You just stare up at him. “Fine. Don’t text me unless you need something,” you concede before lowering your gaze. Your voice lowers and Gojo smiles as you start mumbling to yourself once more, moving to pocket your phone away. “Although, I don’t know why you would need to text me in the first place since—”
You halt at the feeling of a hand around your wrist, stopping you from putting your phone away as you stare up at Gojo in disbelief, lips left parted. He doesn’t bother to explain, simply using his other hand to pull your phone from your grasp and turn it towards him. You watch him with a stunned expression, mind not working quick enough to even ask him what he’s doing because all you can focus on is the way his fingers had felt against the skin of your wrist. His grip was so gentle, even if it had been enough to halt your movements, and his fingers were smooth and long.
The touch had sent shivers down your spine.
“There,” Gojo calls, smiling brightly as he turns your phone screen towards you. It takes you a moment, blinking, before you realize what he’d done.
He’d added himself as a contact, naming himself; Satoru <3
First name too?!?!
“That way you always know it’s me.” 
You flush, body jerking as you snatch your phone from his grasp, shaking your head. “Wh-what! Don’t…! Don’t just add a heart next to your name like that!”
“Why not?” Gojo asks, face in a pout as he genuinely asks you like he doesn’t understand. Your frazzled movements halt when you realize, arms falling to your sides with a huff before his pout is fading and being replaced by another shit-eating grin. You watch as Gojo goes to grab his own phone from his coat pocket, opening it and tapping at a few things before turning it to show you again.
There you see the both of yours short message threads before your eyes wander higher and then you see that he’s added you as a contact on his phone as well.
And….
Sweet Cheeks <3
That was it. You were confident. You’re going to kill him.
You feel hot and you know you probably look like a mess, wide eyed and lips parted once more as you turn to look at Gojo. Of course, he’s smiling–because why wouldn’t he be–and looks completely unbothered by it all. In fact, you’d reckon he even looks proud of himself.
But yet, when your lips part to argue, you find no words to say. You know you’re embarrassed, a little peeved at the annoying pet name, but you think about the way his hand had felt on you and the way that despite how he was too cocky for his own good, you liked the thought of having him as contact in your phone.
Even if that was the name he’d given himself.
Even if that was the name he’d given you. 
And even if there was a heart next to both of your names.
Shoulders falling, you submit; “fine,” you huff. “But just don’t think this means—”
“Y/N.”
You halt, instantly recognizing that voice.
You miss the way Gojo’s eyes zone in on your reaction, shoulders tensing and the expression on your face turning just slightly afraid as you let the words you’d been about to say disappear. The air suddenly grows tense, or maybe you’re imagining it–you’re not sure–but you feel your body stiffly moving to turn, meeting Sukuna’s eyes from across the hall.
His brows furrow when he meets your gaze, eyes hardening at the sight of Gojo behind you.
“What’re you doing talking to Gojo?”
You freeze, and you realize somewhere distant you should say something, but you don’t know what.
Then, an arm falls around your shoulder and a weight is pressed against your back.
“We were exchanging numbers,” Gojo calls out with a singing voice, lips stretched into that familiar wide grin. Though, and you think you might be imagining it, you swear it seems a bit more tight and forced than it had before. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”
You don’t miss the way he calls you by your first name.
Sukuna doesn’t either.
“Uh… y-yeah,” you force out, letting out an airy laugh that sounds more like a cough than anything. 
Sukuna’s face hardens, but the anger in his eyes is passing. With a simple shake of his head, he brushes off your words, before focusing back on meeting your gaze; “come on, Y/N. Let’s have lunch together.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s right.
Maybe he will again. 
You’d been trying to win back Sukuna. Sukuna, your boyfriend. The boyfriend that had cheated on you with a girl who has had it out for you since middle school… Sukuna, whose hands have never felt as warm as the way Gojo’s had against yours just a few minutes ago; nor as soft, nor have they ever made you feel the way Gojo’s had.
“You should break up with him.”
Eyes squeezing shut, you force yourself to block out Geto’s words.
No, this was just silly. You’d already decided – you were going to win back Sukuna and that was that. Geto’s words didn’t matter and neither did Gojo’s hands; it was all just silly distractions you’d let yourself sink into because of your hurt.
You wanted to be with Sukuna and you wanted to win his feelings back.
And here he was inviting you for lunch. You’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod, gently shrugging Gojo’s arm off of your shoulder and taking a step forward. “Okay,” you call out sweetly, smiling at Sukuna, it strengthens the second you see Sukuna instantly ease at your agreement. 
You offer Gojo a smile over your shoulder as you make your way to Sukuna, ignoring the frown on his face as you wave.
Then, you beam up at Sukuna.
He glances at Gojo behind you for a moment longer, before meeting your eyes. You try to make sure you don’t smile too wide or obnoxiously, trying to make sure you look pretty, head tilted as you bat your lashes at him and reach for his hand.
Reluctantly, Sukuna slips his hand into your own, not bothering to return your smile as he leads you into the cafeteria.
-
You watch Sukuna and Mei Mei with a barely concealed frown. 
When Sukuna had first invited you out, you’d thought he meant a date. You’d practically squealed of excitement in your bedroom, kicking your feet before hurriedly getting ready. You’d done your hair, made sure your makeup looked flawless, and dressed exactly how you knew Sukuna liked you to dress. The two of you hadn’t been on a date just the two of you in a long time, and the last time you’d tried… well. It hadn’t ended the way you thought you would.
Operation get Sukuna to fall for Y/N again seemed like it was going well if Sukuna was inviting you out for a date and you knew tonight was the perfect opportunity to up your charm and flirting to remind Sukuna why he’d asked you out in the first place.
Then, you’d shown up at the arcade only to see Sukuna already there with Mei Mei, Mahito and a few of his other friends.
And quickly, you realized your plan was already starting to be a complete and utter failure.
With nothing more than a simple ‘hey’, Sukuna had barely acknowledged your presence nor had he tried to hang with you at all since you’d arrived. You’d been here for an hour and the most attention you got from anyone was Mahito when he’d asked you if you’d watch his stuff for him; you believe his exact words had been ‘if you’re going to sit there like a loser all night, can you at least be helpful and watch my stuff?’.
So that’s what you’d done.
Honestly, you were impressed you were as collected as you were. You knew you should’ve just left, but the small hope that maybe Sukuna would notice you kept you there even as it got harder and harder not to cry. You didn’t want to seem like more of a loser though, so you forced the tears back; trying to ignore the racing thoughts that ran through your mind as you sat there, all dolled up for a guy who didn’t care about you at all.
You were starting to think you’d been wrong all along and maybe he never had.
Were you that undesirable? You’d thought you were a good girlfriend… you’d tried not to be too clingy, even if Sukuna said otherwise and you’d always tried to help him and support him in anything he needed. You tried to wear the things he liked and get into the stuff he was interested in. You went to every one of his games and cheered him on every time. And yet, he’d only ever seemed annoyed at everything you did.
Maybe you were that undesirable.
Maybe you’d never realized just how annoying and insufferable you really were.
Biting your lip, you decide that that’s all you can take for one night and if you don’t leave now, you’re going to cry in the middle of this arcade and that’ll only fuel your embarrassment more.
With one more longing look Sukuna’s way, to which you’re ignored again, you move to stand, grabbing your purse and pulling it over your shoulder as you move to walk away.
Except, the second you turn, you bump aggressively into someone and something cold pours over you.
Your lips part, eyes widening as you realize that it’s some sort of soda, most likely coke, that is now seeping into your blouse and sticking to your skin. Gasping, you glance up to see who you bumped into since it’s clearly becoming a habit of yours, only for your embarrassment to deepen the second you meet a familiar pair of dark eyes.
Geto Suguru stands in front of you, looking just as shocked as you. In his hands is an empty cup, the lid now on the ground by your feet.
You stare at him for a moment before you hear laughter.
It’s loud and piercing. Body stilling and muscles tensing, you glance over your shoulder only to see Sukuna, Mahito, Mei Mei and the rest of his friends all laughing at you. Mahito’s got a hand pressed to his stomach as he doubles over in laughter, the look in Mei Mei’s eyes is nothing short of cruel and when you finally turn to Sukuna, you feel like your heart breaks a little.
Even though you’re not surprised.
Of course he’d laugh at you.
You can’t stand to see the look on Geto’s face, already knowing what he must be thinking, as you quickly shove your way past him. Your feet work quickly to make your way out of the arcade, not hearing the sound of your name being called as you feel your eyes finally well up with the tears you’ve desperately tried to hold back all day. 
The second you’re out of the arcade, it all becomes too much. 
You don’t care at that moment that you’re no more covered than you would’ve been inside the arcade; it’s better than crying in front of Sukuna and… and Geto. 
Pressing your hands to your face, the reality of everything catches up to you and a sob pulls past your lips as your shoulders shake. You’re cold, sticky, you’re pretty sure your blouse is now see through thanks to the soda that had spilled all over you and you’re standing outside an arcade crying because of your boyfriend who cheated on you.
Everything was just so cruel.
You stand there for a moment more, lost in your own world you don’t hear the ding of the arcade doors open behind you or the footsteps that follow. It isn’t until something warm falls around your shoulders do you finally look up, turning your head to the right and blinking at the sight of Geto’s concerned eyes staring back at you. 
“Are you okay?” He asks gently, voice soft in the mix of silence and your sniffles. “I didn’t mean to spill my drink all over you like that.”
Swallowing thickly, you brush the tears on your cheeks, confused; “wh-what?”
“You ran out so quick,” he continues on, moving in front of you to grab the hoodie he’d draped around you and pull it tighter around you in the front. You watch as his hands reach for your own, taking your arms and tugging them through the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up until it hits the bottom of your chin. “I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.”
You’re stunned. Confused. You hadn’t expected him to run out after you nor did you expect sympathy. Sure, you didn’t know Geto that well, but you didn’t expect him to apologize for spilling his soda on you, especially when you bumped into him, nor did you expect him to give you his hoodie to cover and warm yourself up.
You stare back at him blankly.
Geto frowns at the tears in your eyes. “Ignore them. They’re idiots.”
He’s gesturing behind you at the arcade — to Sukuna and the rest of them.
You don’t glance back. You don’t want to see them still laughing.
“Why… why are you here?” You ask, voice small.
“I was babysitting,” he explains, “but their parents picked them up just before I bumped into you. I was… actually going to talk to you when you stood up suddenly.”
Oh. So that’s why he’d been right behind you.
“I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you mumble, selfishly enjoying the warmth his hoodie gives as you hug yourself. “And split your drink.”
Geto shakes his head. “You’re the one that got covered in it.”
And oddly, the comment makes you smile. You’re not sure why–maybe you’re losing your mind–but the way he says it so nonchalantly pulls a smile to your lips and a snot-filled giggle that is anything but attractive and you’re too upset to even care. 
Geto just laughs at himself; “you think it’s funny my drink spilled all over you?”
Meeting his eyes, you shrug; “I dunno.” Then, faltering, you glance at your feet. “I didn’t before. But maybe a little now.”
“Well… good,” Geto shrugs. “It was a little funny if I’m being honest.”
And the smile on his face tells you he’s just joking.
“Shut up,” you laugh.
An air of silence falls over the two of you then, and you shuffle on your feet.
“I’m gonna go home now,” you point to your left, the direction you’ll be walking. “I’ll wash and return your hoodie on Monday. Th… Thank you for giving it to me.” And you smile warmly, wanting him to know just how much you appreciate the favour.
Geto’s smile fades as he blinks down at you.
You offer a small wave and move to walk, but then a hand catches your arm.
Surprised, you glance back at Geto.
“I’ll walk you,” he offers.
Your eyes widen. “Oh! You… you don’t have to—”
“It’s okay,” he assures, somewhat urgently. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay…” you say slowly, not seeing the point in arguing. Besides, not walking home alone in the dark seemed like the better option anyway and if he was offering… still, why was he offering? “But… why?”
“Because,” he shrugs once more. And he hesitates and your heart twists because you don’t know if you can handle the answer if it’s because he feels pity for you.
And then he just smiles and it’s soft and gentle and it takes your breath away as you stare up at him.
“It’s late.”
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mishy-mashy · 4 days
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Kudo is actually such a kind, soft-hearted guy that had to toughen up because he cared too much
He looked at AFO's rule, and even though he was weak, he had that glint in his eye that has been referred to as the "will of a hero" to oppose him. A hopeful glint shared with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Hawks
He even parallels Hawks when they talk about that particular look in their eye
From a glimmer in the eye, to which eye is shown, how much of the face, a similar angle of the face, and placement of text questioning the existence of that light,
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He stormed to kill Yoichi with Bruce, but couldn't, once he saw the state Yoichi was in. Even knowing he was the enemy, he still reached out his hand and never let go, even when they were running
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When Yoichi died, even though they'd only been together for two months, Kudo still cried and froze up.
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This is a reaction from a man who repeatedly used lives as a stepping stone for his own goal.
Kudo said himself, that victory was life, and defeat was death. He had killed and seen his friends killed over and over, but still cries when it happens again. And to someone he only knew for two months, at that.
Kudo gathered allies under his cause, and they were loyal enough to die for him. Bruce cries (still smiling tho) facing AFO, tried protecting Kudo when he froze up at Yoichi's death, and we see all Kudo's comrades dead in the end. Maybe Bruce was suicidal when he went to face AFO, knowing he'd die, but most of his comrades (and Kudo) were already gone. Their cause was snuffed out, but the will persisted.
Kudo is a bit like Aizawa.
A bit crass and blunt, doesn't like beating around the bush, but he can clearly see what kind of person you are. He's not openly kind, but you know he cares so much, but has also lost too much once. He's seen his friend(s) die, and shouldn't it have been him in that spot? Shouldn't he have died instead, but was forced to continue living for that dead person's sake?
His speech about why we call Abilities "Quirks", recognizing people's intent over raw power is the real power. (Ch 369)
He's blunt and goes straight to the results rather than beat around the bush, but it doesn't mean his heart is frozen and he doesn't care about you. (Ch 408)
He cares so much, and that's why he has to do so much. (His whole Resistance thing, figuring out how Yoichi's Factor works to make sure Yoichi and his will can live on in some way)
He recognizes that Midoriya isn't driven by duty, but that he genuinely adores Quirks too much. (Ch 414) He could look at Midoriya, read that immediately, and even though he looked through his memories, Midoriya's character was his takeaway. Not that Midoriya is an idiot for letting himself be stepped on, or that this kid was bullied, but that Midoriya could see the goodness in others.
Like how Aizawa saw that Midoriya was relying on the reason [It can't be helped] whenever OFA broke his bones and told him he can't always break himself just because he could be fixed (Midoriya's recklessness that showed itself on the first day of school). He called out something that was an underlying, innate belief to Midoriya, that was so normal to the teen, and no one else had brought up as wrong to him.
The first thing they perceive is a person's character.
When Aizawa tied up Midoriya on the first day of school, he wasn't telling him off over his Quirk destroying him being a PR thing or too gruesome for the public. It was out of the fact that his Quirk shouldn't destroy him, because it's dangerous for Midoriya.
Aizawa came off antagonistic, but he was looking out for Midoriya. He didn't want him to keep breaking his whole arm, he didn't want him to get stuck in the mindset that he had to get hurt to use his Quirk, he was looking out for his wellbeing from the start. A kid he didn't know personally until that day.
Kudo did a similar thing. He turned his back, and refused to help, because they were putting their hopes in a delusional boy who would go too far. When the vestiges realized their gathered Abilities and Quirks were letting Midoriya have the freedom to do as he wished, Kudo already knew, only saying "His path is the right one". He could relate to having to run full-sprint to see your goal realized, even if everything opposed him, but didn't want Midoriya to go through that same path alone.
If he were alone, he'd be like Nagant. He had to have comrades to be like Kudo, able to continue and stand for their beliefs, but having comrades to fall back on, or pull him back when it's too much. That's why he follows up in that moment with, "But, if there's something Midoriya does need..."
Kudo and Aizawa could see themselves or their comrades in others, and knew how to approach those character flaws that were normalized to others and said person.
Kudo could see others for who they were, and I think it's this, and his caring nature, that he gathered so many allies with him. He knew when to be blunt, when to show kindness, that the truth hurts but needs to be seen, was actually very logical and witty, and when to step aside and let people do their thing, even if it wasn't the best move (like saving All Might). Because that was what was best for that person.
It's not like people would join someone so wholeheartedly without conviction and being left unseen by that person. So many people were willing to die with and for Kudo, and Bruce believes in him so much.
When All Might's vestige was fading and becoming more solid, Kudo had to look away. They knew it meant All Might was dying in the real world.
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Kudo was telling Midoriya not to intervene with Gearshift there. But once he saw All Might genuinely dying out, he couldn't look at him, and kept quiet. He stopped hanging onto battlefield logic of necessity, shut up, let Midoriya do his thing, and it saved All Might. It saved Midoriya from seeing his idol die in front of him, and Kudo didn't have to see another ally die beside him.
The chapter is literally called [We Love You All Might!!]. Even if it's just meant to focus in Bakugo and Midoriya, and only has 2 exclamation marks, it can't discount the world is watching. The vestiges care about All Might too.
When the vestiges come up with the plan to forcibly transfer themselves to deal damage, Kudo volunteers himself as the test dummy. Sure, he backs it with a lot of reason too, but he didn't want anyone else to go first as a test drive
He, with a Gearshift Ability that resembled a manual car, was the test drive. Ha ha pun- *gets shot*
En tried going first. Kudo rejected him, saying he would go first.
"Part ways with Gearshift [me], and you'll be free of the crippling recoil too."
Too. TOO.
KUDO JUST WANTED TO GO AND BE DESTROYED FIRST. HE PUT THE FREEDOM OF RECOIL DOWN AS AN EXTRA BONUS SO THEY'D AGREE WITH HIS CHOICE.
I'd cut the image so it looks better, and I can use Bruce's words elsewhere, but this is an image limit, so,
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- Kudo refused to let anyone else go first. This was before giving reasons to convince them he should leave first
- En gives reason to why it can't be Kudo. Kudo just says, "Listen." and reminds them of now.
- Look at Kudo's face when he says that. The guy knows what he's doing when he cuts off En, and would probably be a horrible liar. He might as well be pulling this out of his ass.
He's said "The world will end" "You have to or else" "Five minutes" "You're going to die" a few times in this fight already. DUDE STOPPP
(Terrible liar and a guy who purposely eggs you to torment? What a great friend he would be [yknow, when u make ur friends freak out by being ominous or reminding them of stuff. Like Toast to Lilypichu in a game of Observation Duty])
- "Too."
- Bruce's trust in him, but knowing when to pull Kudo back from going too far
Also, when he's transferred, he smiles to Midoriya. He knows he's about to die again, but the last thing he does for Midoriya is
1) Take away the recoil of his existence as a Factor on the boy
2) Reassure him that it's okay, so it doesn't weigh on his conscience
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Even if only in thought, STILL!
KUDO LOOKED SO PROUD OF MIDORIYA!
I bet Kudo is suuuch a sentimental fool
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> [Be me and watch your new friend die]
> [I have Yoichi's Factor]
> [It's like I carry his will now]
> [Have a glint of opposition in my eye that drives the Demon Lord and my comrades (Bruce) crazy]
> [Hey Bruce, let's figure out how it transfers]
> [Bruce's common sense VS my rabid ideas]
> [I win]
> [Bruce was unwilling the whole time and still ends up with the Factor]
> [The Factor is named One For All, after something in Yoichi's favorite comic book series]
> [We pass it on to the future to carry forward]
> [Even as everyone else and me dies, I make sure Yoichi and his will are safe from his Demon Lord brother that locked him up]
> [Decades later, my sweet vaulted friend reminds me of when we met]
> [I turn around and give my whole-hearted support to believe in some 15-year old boy because Yoichi believes in him too]
SEN - TIM - ENT - AL!
When Shinomori was stolen by AFO, Shinomori pushed everyone away before they could really notice the invader. Kudo called out for him.
Everyone is in shock, but I don't think it's a mistake that the text bubble calling out for Shinomori is pointing from Kudo.
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All For One made it through and is ready to steal them, but the first thing Kudo did was call out for the one at the very front.
[On the post I made that mentions Shinomori pushing everyone away] What if Kudo wasn't pushed away? What if this was him at the front, realizing the danger and turning around, but being unable to do anything for Shinomori when he saw?
Like Bruce, Kudo communicates. He doesn't expect you to just follow or understand him. He actually lays it out and makes sure you keep up.
He explains
- the transfer of vestiges, and why he should go first
- his Quirk
- why Quirks are Quirks
- reports to Midoriya what's happening and what's next
- to Yoichi why they couldn't trust in a delusional boy. In a way that wasn't Bruce's roundabout "we lived in a terrible era and a leader gathered us"
When En panics, he barks at En to keep up. By barking at him, rather than any other way he could've used his tone, it shuts up En in his frantic babbling. Kudo also lets Vestige Might put in his thoughts to understand better, and uses it.
Eye reflection. Kudo can really see people for who they are, and understands others, and himself.
I can't repeat the pics cuz image limit, but look at previous panels here. For example, Kudo saying Yoichi's will lives in him, and when AFO reflected in his eyes
It's something I learned from Re:Zero. When a person in reflected in one's eye, something something that person can see the true core of you, of what you really are underneath everything. The eyes are the window and mirror [glass] of the soul. I finally see the true you.
AFO never reflected anyone.
But Kudo reflected AFO when the man accidentally killed Yoichi. He saw that AFO wasn't seeing anything, so later, Kudo smiled and mocked AFO at his own death.
"Yoichi?"
"He's gone."
"You killed him, Demon Lord."
And AFO hated that reminder.
Kudo was reminding him of what the truth was. Kudo saw it himself, and AFO blocked it out from the get-go. Kudo already knew what AFO was, what he was seeing, what he was doing to himself by blaming Kudo instead of himself.
And then, Kudo's eyes reflected his own hand when he realized Yoichi's Factor was in him.
Kudo clearly saw himself, and in himself, Yoichi. Nothing distorted it. It really was a clear mirror.
He really perceived Yoichi's will was living on, and was right. Otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have shown it.
Kudo was right about AFO. It's even implied back when he and Bruce had their backs turned; Kudo knew what AFO's real goal was. That was back when AFO preached unity and division under him.
Kudo could always see right through AFO. He really understood people from the start. And he never tried making up truths to justify what he was seeing, facing it head-on.
Kudo's lying about the world being black and white.
Kudo and Bruce saw the world as black and white. This was mentioned in the void.
Kudo also says, "Victory meant life. Defeat meant death."
But it's the Resistance. It's when Japan and the world was at their lowest. The world wasn't black and white; there's lots of gray.
Kudo and Bruce would've seen this. Kudo even admits that there's gray, just not directly.
Kudo says Yoichi knows, how he killed and trampled so many lives, to get back at AFO. He knows it wasn't right, or an amazing choice. Later, he says that when your back is against the wall, you have to make callous judgements. These hint at gray moments.
Kudo and Bruce have faced and been in the gray. But it's too hard to make the right choices, and there are times there is no right answer.
Historically, soldiers would convince themselves the enemy were monsters. They wouldn't be able to fight and kill them otherwise. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves without believing in this so badly.
Kudo and Bruce had to have been the same way. They were Meta Humans [Monsters] in a time they were viewed as diseased humans. The monsters were real. And they had a Demon Lord. Kudo and Bruce literally dressed up as soldiers.
Even if they were monsters to society, being Meta, Kudo and Bruce were still human. They knew this. The ones who tried believing in only black and white were inhabitants of the gray itself.
But they have to protect themselves. Kudo is so adamant that the world is only black and white, because he can't stand the gray. What it makes him do, what it means, that he's too weak to do anything.
Yoichi is an example of that gray area. The mortal enemy's younger brother, was actually locked up and sickly. He's just a comic book nerd. And it humanized the other side Kudo opposed so vehemently.
Kudo says victory is life and defeat is death. And Yoichi asked why he reached out to him then. He reminded Kudo of that gray area, and Kudo opened up.
Kudo might avoid the gray area because it's a matter of the heart and a moral dilemma, but it's what makes him human. When there's no right answer in the battlefield, he decides on his feelings instead.
He wishes the world was black and white, because it'd be so easy. But it's not.
Yoichi reminded him of how entering that gray area led to OFA ("when you reached out your hand to me"), and it had been the best choice in the end. The gray area is real, and Kudo's left a bare man with only his emotions when he's there.
Kudo is actually really kind and understanding. He's too soft for his own good. Thanks if you made it this far, I hope it makes sense (tag and image limit)
#KUDO IS UNDERRATED NEEDS MORE CONTENT RECOGNITION HES THE KINDEST WITTLE BOY EVER#my thoughts#i think ppl who write resistance stuff should also consider that not everything was black and white#there will be moral arguments where you cant decide. and the resistance has faced those sorts of things where There Is No Right Answer.#kudo is really kind tho. exactly because he cares so much he does all these things and tries to harden himself#but like exoskeletons work - its only an armor to protect the soft squishy insides and keep them from drying out#i woke up and had to put this stuff down#me: *picks up a sentence note in my fic notes* *puts it down here and elaborates*#the line was in relation to putting down stuff about the vestiges to remember dynamics#[Kudo is the kindest despite appearances]#kudo seems like he would be fiercely protective over ppl he cares about. exactly because hes seen so many of his comrades die over and over#kudo#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#spoilers#ofa#one for all#bruce#bruce is the meme of “*chuckles* I'm in danger” and its just. Kudo w/ his new crazy idea chasing him down with Gearshift and Yoichis Factor#hikage shinomori#en tayutai#yoichi shigaraki#ive been thinking he was kind for a long time but never elaborated why. if u look at his actions words and thoughts it all makes sense#theres underlying kindness in there. he wants to be kind but the world would scorch him if he didnt have a stick up his ass#also adding on to the prev tag of kudo and fiercely protective- because in their times comrades were everything. otherwise you were alone#the world sucks resources are limited and youre a diseased human [Meta]. but you have someone willing to walk with you.#also about the [Kudo is the kindest] note among the vestiges- i dont think any of the other vestiges would do what kudo did#calmly volunteering himself rather than it being in panic. extending a hand and saving what shouldve been his mortal enemy. yknow
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merakiui · 1 year
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ALIEN SCARAMOUCHE WITH OVIPOSITION MERA ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 I need more, what would he look like, what are his motivations... Omg... Maybe some kidnapping going on...some experiments on humans...him studying how humans reproduce and if his race can use them... Aaaa my mind is going crazy with ideas, please do share yours too! <3
What if he doesn’t have a form of his own (something that sort of ties into canon Scaramouche’s obsession with wanting a heart and a purpose)? And maybe he’s more like a shadowy mass that can take the form of anything so long as he’s encountered said thing (i.e. made contact with it? Or maybe he has to kill the original in order to take its form? Or it’s something like a reflection where if you happen to look at him long enough he’ll have a good enough idea of how to replicate your form from staring and analyzing it.) and since he’s so dedicated to having a form that really fits, that truly feels like him, he’s continued to adapt and evolve as the years pass throughout every planet in the solar system.
Perhaps he does have a few features of his own, but maybe they’re sort of scattered?? Or they aren’t really features his species is known to have? He’s like a mixture of various things he’s observed over the time he’s spent on your planet in an effort to shape himself into something beyond the formless shadow he’s lived as for so long. Like a patchwork copycat composed of so many different parts because he’s desperately trying to understand all of these things. It’s like his version of trying on clothes and new fashion styles. So maybe he has horns or maybe cat ears because he’s seen so many stray cats and they’ve always fascinated him for some unexplainable reason (maybe in order to have these features he’s had to ingest part of the living thing he wants to replicate??? Just something a little extra horrifying for our beloved alien mouchey. <3) And maybe the only thing he has from the one who created him (Ei) is the same piercing stare in a pair of brilliantly colored eyes she graciously bestowed upon him.
Maybe Scaramouche can’t understand human emotion in the usual sense that other humans might, so he assigns flavors to these unusual feelings. When he hurts the things he likes or is interested in (cats, the human he stole his current appearance from (i.e. Kabukimono; let’s pretend they’re two separate individuals hehe), and even other gentle things or creatures who are completely innocent), the taste in his mouth is sour or bitter or so very intolerable. I think over time he hardens himself and learns to live with the foul flavors he often encounters when he attempts to blend in with humans and utterly fails because he can never replicate their emotions as well as he can copy behaviors or appearances. He starts his journey so curious and sweetly innocent, albeit murderous and eerie, and he tries so hard to learn and be good and explore the world with the eyes his mother gifted him and yet he always finds himself hurting. He hates it. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible, and he has never truly felt before. This is new.
When Scaramouche is captured by Dottore, a human scientist who is a little too dedicated to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge, he finally tastes the cruelty of humankind—learns of the lengths they’ll go to in the name of scientific breakthroughs. The researchers run dozens of tests on him. He can’t feel external or internal pain from wounds or injuries; he’s sturdy, birthed from a substance foreign to humans, intended to survive the harshest conditions. But Scaramouche feels pain—the emotional kind. He’s never felt fear; he’s what humans would call an apex predator. He’s strong. He’s never needed to feel fear, and so he doesn’t fear the unknown. He isn’t scared of the sharp tools, of the peculiar creatures he’s shown in hopes that he might replicate them and their features, nor does he fear the trajectory of this new life. The concept of ethical practices means nothing to him even though he’s aware he’s a lab rat, a grotesque curiosity that doctors poke and prod at. He reacts to everything in unique, defensive ways. He impaled a doctor through the throat with a strange shadowy spike. It moved as though it were liquid, yet it struck very solidly, sharply, deadly efficient. Dottore likens its movements and behaviors to that of an octopus’s tentacle; Scaramouche is unsure of this comparison. This is merely a shadow of something he has observed—a reflection. A cheap copy. He has never been original.
You’re the first human he meets who isn’t adorned in sterile white. No lab coat, no gloves, no goggles, no protective gear. Just clothes. Normal clothes. The both of you are separated by indestructible glass, placed in two very white rooms, and you can see one another so clearly. Scaramouche hates the purity of white because he knows that when he’s forced into a white backdrop he’s meant to stain it red. And lately he doesn’t want to break things that are undeserving of it. Perhaps he’s feeling too much. Perhaps he ought to tear these human feelings out and go back to the blank, shadowy slate he once was. How he intends to accomplish that, he has no idea.
He’s uninterested in you at first. You’re a human. He’s seen humans. He interacts with them daily. He’s killed plenty. But you spend nights in that white room and he watches you sleep. He tries to sleep in the same way you do; he has no need for sleep. He regulates his energy differently. He tries to breathe like you. He blinks at the same times you blink—or he comes awfully close. He tries to copy your movements and mannerisms. One night he presses himself to the glass and takes your form and watches you, counting every rise and fall of your chest as you lie so comfortably on the very uncomfortable cot. With hands that mirror yours, he pokes at these human features. He fits one hand in the other and pretends he’s holding your actual hand. There is no warmth, though. Humans are warm; Scaramouche is not. He’s frigid. His home planet is gloomy and cold and desolate. He thinks humans are lucky for cyclical days—for being in close proximity to the sun. There is no sunshine where he hails from. He likes the way the sun feels on him. It used to burn terribly when he first arrived on this planet. Now it’s like a hug—a hug that still singes, but a hug nonetheless. He’s never known what a hug is, but he thinks this is what it must feel like—like the burning warmth of a sun.
Scaramouche feels true, raw, animalistic, paralyzing fear when you’re taken out of the room after two weeks and replaced with a new human. You’re gone. Replaced. Are you dead? Did he kill you? Did he stare too long? He’s distraught, overcome with a horrifying emotion that has him curled and trembling in the corner of his white room (a cage if he’s ever known one). Why aren’t you here? And why is he so…restless? He can’t call it fear because he doesn’t know that word. But oh he’s scared. He’s so scared. You were the first human to smile at him, to put your hand on the glass where his rested, to sit close to the glass and eat meals alongside him. You were like the stray cats he’s interacted with: kind, soft, gentle, sweet. He’s so scared he loses the ability to remain in his human skin, and he practically melts into a shadow, clinging to the corner like glue or slime. He’s empty and alone. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible.
The humans that follow are terrified of him. Either that or they’re disgusted, baffled, cautious. He hates every one of them, so much so that he’s tried to break through the glass numerous times to dispose of them. Weeks pass; he’s forgetting your features. There are no mirrors here, so he must rely on the reflections shown in the glass. Some days he thinks he looks just like you; other days he’s certain he’s a monstrosity—a sloppily stitched version of you. The you he saw did not have pointed fangs or curling horns. He hates his reflection because it isn’t you. Most importantly, he hates that the humans he’s forced to look at are protected by this thick layer of glass. If it wasn’t so indestructible, he’d tear through every human nuisance until he reaches you.
Scaramouche is not sure how many months pass, but you return. And when you do the fear ebbs away. He feels…happy? Is that the right term? He’s pleased to see you, and for the first time in a while he returns to his human appearance—to the one he took from a young man many centuries ago. You’re back. You’re here. He’s so happy. He detaches himself from his corner and he tries to smile in the way you do. And, though it’s awkward and strange and sharp-toothed, you smile right back.
Dottore decides then that you are to be the next subject in this experiment. He’s observed Scaramouche’s reactions to you and compared them to reactions to the other humans and found that you are the best suited to this role. If anything, the alien couldn’t have picked a better specimen to adore. You’re helpless and so naïve. You need the money; it’s why you allowed yourself to live in that room for a few weeks. You were paid handsomely for it. He’ll pay you beyond handsomely if you agree to what’s next. And, really, when you’re in between a predator’s jaws do you really have much of a choice?
Scaramouche needs a human match, and the scientists need to study more than just the social biology of an alien. They promise you he won’t hurt you, and if he does it’s all right. They’re kind enough to respect the wishes of the dead. You must let Dottore know if you’d prefer a burial or a cremation. There’s nothing special in this distinction; it’s just a precautionary measure. You’ll agree to participate in this experiment whether or not you want to.
Your new home is the white room that faces Scaramouche, and after some more time and observations to ensure you won’t be killed the moment you step foot in his space the glass barrier will be lifted. Dottore wonders how Scaramouche’s kind mates and reproduces.
There’s only one way to find out.
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kays-artstuff · 8 months
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I can't watch many streams this week F
BUUT have this mha oc i made a bit ago
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i actually have a lot of work to do this week so i can't do a lot of doodlin buuut i have a character here for you, I want to note i gave them a lot of drawbacks that i didn't write down on the doodle like this ability is actually rlly bad for close combat unless they're trying to blind someone (also they can't control what smear the onject comes out of and need to be able to actively time things)
(I don't associate with the community/fandom :skull: some of y'all are scary /hj)
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squishosaur · 11 months
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eclipse - a group of misunderstood people trying to express themselves and reach others through song. they have a soft, orchestral, impressionistic sound to their music.
MISSION!! worldwide smile ☆☆☆ - a fun-loving band dedicated to making people happy with their pop songs! composed of earnest, loving people who want to help others while proving their worth to themselves and everyone else.
MAYONAKA BLACK - a group of misfits who, despite their diverse backgrounds, have been connected through the internet. their very hype, synthesized instrumentals are juxtaposed with dark, poetic lyrics.
Starlight Express - a theatrical trio who puts liveliness into everything they do in an attempt to put a smile on the faces of their friends and families.
decrowned - after a rather embarrassing fall from grace, a former star recruits two upcoming talents to perform with her again. with heartfelt lyrics and resonant vocals, they're taking every stage by storm.
TIGER EYE - a punk rock group, sick of the people in power and the systems in place in society. they have a unique blend of strong percussions, rocking guitars, powerful vocals, and stunning dance moves.
hyperdrive!!! - a boy struggling to find his identity is guided solely by two people who couldn't care less about theirs. they have a certain level improvization and new personality in every performance.
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loonlynxshenanigans · 7 months
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
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HEY GUESS WHO’S FINALLY POSTING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE CROSSOVER FIC I’VE BEEN WRITING!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEN
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months
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JJK characters with breeding kinks
‼️REBLOGS APPRECIATED‼️
warnings: breeding, creampies, sex
characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna
A/N: may do a part 2 to this with more characters if this does well… I don’t know too much about all of the JJK characters because I’ve only seen season 1, so go easy on me <3
NSFW JJK taglist:
If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !
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Gojo
This man has breeding on the mind 24/7. You’re such a cute little thing, walking around the house in just a pair of panties and a sweater, he can barely contain his arousal every time you pass him by. He’s begging to get your pregnant, and will give you creampie after creampie to make his dreams of being a dad a reality.
Nanami
He wants that domestic family life pretty bad, and getting you pregnant is one of the many steps he wants to take in having a normal, fulfilling relationship with you. Unlike Gojo, he’ll put a ring on your pretty little finger before he even thinks about getting you pregnant. He lets you know that he wants kids very early on so you’re aware of what he wants.
Choso
He loves being an older brother, but lately he’s been thinking about becoming a father too. Once you brought up the idea of having children, Choso hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. He’s got breeding on the brain, and he can’t leave you empty, he’s gotta give you a creampie for the road every time he sees you!
Sukuna
He partly wants to breed you to have possession over you in a way no one else can, and partly because he wants an heir. He does love you, and when you so cutely as for him to knock you up, how can he refuse you? He’s the king of curses, and he can do anything he wants, and he WANTS to pound your pussy and fill your womb until you’re absolutely stuffed with his seed.
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minarisplaything · 5 months
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High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung
Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody
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Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.
Or maybe that was just you.
When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.
All this was to say it wasn’t easy.
But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.
“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.
You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.
Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.
“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.
“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”
“So you follow them?”
“Them?”
“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.
One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.
You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.
That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.
It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.
“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.
“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”
“Oh, I remember.”
You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.
“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.
“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”
You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”
“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.
The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.
“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”
“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”
She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.
“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.
By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.
“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”
Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.
“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”
Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.
If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.
Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.
"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."
Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."
She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."
Oh.
You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.
"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.
A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.
"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.
Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.
"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.
"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.
Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."
"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.
There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.
"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."
"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.
"Is the princess feeling full?"
"So, so full…" she cooed.
"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.
You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.
You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.
"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.
A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.
"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."
She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.
"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"
One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.
"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."
Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.
"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.
"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"
It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."
You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.
"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""
You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.
Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.
Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.
After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.
"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.
"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."
You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."
Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.
"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.
Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.
"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."
A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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saeldis · 2 years
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I keep getting emails congratulating me for banal stuff from Tumblr, so... I guess congrats to them for figuring out how to get my dopamine dispensary to operate. I might just stick it out here regardless of what happens on the other Hellsite.
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lakefu · 2 months
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A Perfect Warmth 🕯️
Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...
Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.
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“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.
“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 
“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.
“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.
He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”
“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 
“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.
“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.
“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.
She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.
“And you think that’s a good look for me?”
His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.
“Yes… I do.”
Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.
Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 
Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.
Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.
“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.
“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.
“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.
“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.
“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.
“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.
“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 
“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.
Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.
“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You���re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.
Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.
As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.
“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.
“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.
Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”
Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.
“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.
“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.
She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 
One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.
Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 
Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?
He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.
Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 
She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.
She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.
It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.
An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-
“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 
“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.
She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 
Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.
He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.
Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.
Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.
“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”
Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.
Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 
The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.
Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.
“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.
It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 
“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 
How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 
“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 
It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.
Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 
“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 
Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.
“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”
“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 
They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 
“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.
“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 
“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.
“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.
700 notes · View notes
raewritesfiction · 2 months
Text
Pillow [Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader]
A/N: based on this…
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Plot: Daryl walks in on you humping your pillow and offers an alternative.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader
Warnings: Smut. Pillow jumping, face riding, language.
[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]
Tag List: @thegreatlarryfisherman @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikkikrash @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @differentcatcat @madsadgenius @sycochick @kcthescreamqueen @phoenix-is-closer-to-the-edge @charlottewatkinsblog
The week had been tough and you needed release; you’d barely been able to wait until you were back in the seclusion of your shared house, knowing he wouldn’t be back for another couple of hours meant you had plenty of time.
You hadn’t closed your door because you didn’t want to waste the time and you’d started out fully clothed, rubbing over your pants, undoing the buttons and zip and dipping into the material to feel yourself and then slowly you’d stripped down to nothing, rocking your hips on a particularly firm pillow you’d cleaned up and repurposed.
You were so far into the feelings flushing through you that you didn’t hear him come back; your small moans wouldn’t escape the house but he heard them and quietly walked up the stairs; missing the two that squeaked.
Daryl stood watching you; your back to him as you rocked on the pillow and gasped, your hands moving over yourself and teasing your nipples. He watched as your head dropped back and you moaned a little louder. He discovered it was music to his ears and silently stepped into your room, placing his hands on your hips making you jump.
“Oh Jesus fuck!” You squealed and turned, panting. “Oh god! Fuck I…”
“Sweetheart… you’re far too pretty to be humpin’ your pillow… how about ya use my face instead?” His voice is low, rough from probably chain smoking through the morning and riding for the runs. His eyes are blown and he can’t take them off of you, you couldn’t decide if it was your ass or tits that held his attention as he squeezed at his crotch.
How long had he been stood there? What had he heard and seen? Why did the idea of him watching you like that turn you on so much more?
You run a hand through your hair and blink, sure you’d imaged what Daryl would feel like inside you but you’d never thought anything would come of it. He always kept to himself; his emotions especially so and he’d never given any indication he was interested. Had he? He did like being close to you and when you were told you’d have to share a house Daryl was quick to say he had a spare room; unlike many of the other houses.
“Uh… y-yeah… I mean I… we…” you stutter, failing to make a complete sentence.
Daryl crawls onto the bed and lays down, licking his lips and letting his eyes wander over you “c’mon baby doll.” His arms spread out for you to crawl onto him.
You move on the bed and do so, hovering over his mouth “c’mon… if I die I die… no better way to go out.”
You blush crimson and slowly lower to his mouth, rolling your hips a little as his tongue makes contact with you. Daryl’s hands gripped you and pulled you down fully onto his face, making him moan as he took in your scent and taste. His lips suck over you while his tongue explores every fold of your wet pussy; he mumbles and circles on your swollen clit, closing his lips over you and sucking in pulses while you rock your hips and find your rhythm.
There was no doubt his mouth felt so much better than the pillow and his hands on your skin felt electric.
“Tease yerself baby…” he hums and looks up at you, watching your hands move to your tits and massage, knead, pinch and pull. He moans as he watches you and rocks his hips in time with yours. Daryl groans and swirls his tongue over you messily, switching between kissing, sucking and licking you. His tongue pushes inside you and he expertly twists and curls it before moving back to your clit.
You pant and whine, careful not to be too loud as the houses were in disrepair and not as sound proof as they should be.
You reach a hand down into Daryl’s hair and he moans low against you, reaching his hand down to his pants and undoing them with ease to reach inside.
“Don’t stop…” you whisper and grind your hips down onto him.
“Good girl, ride my face…” he sucks over you again and watches you writhe; his hand wrapping around his free cock and jerking in rhythm with your movements.
Soon you were both panting and moaning out, louder than intended but it just felt so fucking good that you couldn’t help yourselves. Daryl twists his hand and tightens his grip, speeding up as your hips move faster and buck on his face. You gasp and pant harder “fuck… fuck Daryl…!”
He takes this to mean continue what he’s doing and sucks harder on your clit, pulsing around you while bucking and twisting his hips to his hand.
“Cum fer me…” he speaks against you “cover me…” his tongue flicks quickly and you grip his hair a little tighter, doubling over as you call out with release, he keeps licking and sucking over you making you tremble and babble. Daryl moans low and sucks hard on you with his own release shortly after; slowing both his hand and his mouth to a stop and helping you lay down beside him on the bed.
You lay panting, a hand running over your face and up into your hair “Jesus Christ!”
Daryl kisses you, his lips, tongue and scruff slick with your wetness. You kiss him back hungrily and moan at the taste of yourself on him.
“No more ridin’ pillows…” he speaks low, “Yer always welcome to ride me instead.”
You nod and chuckle “I didn’t realise it was an option until now.”
-fin-
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jinnie-ret · 2 months
Text
cigarette duet
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poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader
genre: angst, fluff at the end
content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery
word count: 3k
summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?
requested: @ihrtlix
It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3
1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.
"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"
"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.
And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.
"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.
"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.
"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.
"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.
"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.
"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.
Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.
"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.
"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.
It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.
"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.
"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.
"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.
"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.
"What?" Felix too stood up.
"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.
"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.
"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.
"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.
"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.
Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.
"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.
Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.
"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.
And so you did.
"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.
It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.
"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.
"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.
"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."
"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.
"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.
"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.
"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.
"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.
"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.
"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.
"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.
"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.
"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.
"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.
"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.
"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.
"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.
"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.
"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.
"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.
"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.
"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.
The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.
The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.
"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.
"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.
"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?
"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.
"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.
"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.
All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.
•••
"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."
"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."
"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."
This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.
"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.
"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.
"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.
"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.
"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.
"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.
"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.
"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.
"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.
•••
Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.
"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.
"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.
"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.
"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.
"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.
"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.
"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.
"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.
"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.
"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.
"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.
He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.
"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."
"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.
"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.
"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.
"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"
"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.
"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.
"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.
"I didn't think you meant this very second!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria
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queerly-autistic · 4 months
Text
I've been thinking about potential pick-up of Our Flag Means Death by another streamer, and how it all might be tying in with the current BBC release, and I have some thoughts about what might be happening and what we can do to give the show the best chance of being picked up.
I think it's important to start by saying that all the whisperings that I heard over the past few months (including from some people who work at/with the BBC) pointed firmly towards a scheduled March release for Our Flag Means Death on the BBC. Needless to say, this means I was extremely surprised when they suddenly announced it was dropping at the beginning of February. I think it's also clear from everything I've seen that the BBC's marketing/social media plan for the release was not ready for February (there was no trailer, which was odd), which, again, really supports the idea that the show was initially schedule for a March release, not a February release.
I firmly believe the release was brought forward. The question is: why? Is it because they saw how much noise and press the show (and our campaign) was getting, and decided to try and capitalise on it? Or is there something else going on?
On top of that, we now have specific questions about Our Flag Means Death appearing on YouGov UK, including asking whether respondents would watch another series. This doesn't just happen. The charity I work for has commissioned YouGov polling (including some very recently) which I have been tangentially involved with, and so I know that this sort of polling is not easy work, and it's not cheap. Someone has put time AND money into commissioning this polling. This is significant. Someone is not only watching, but they are specifically watching the UK response to the show, and putting questions to the UK audience about it.
I have strong suspicions that a streamer (or several streamers) are interested in picking up the show, and are using the UK release as a live case study (Apple, Amazon and Netflix also have a presence in the UK, so we are a big target audience for them in a way we never were for Max). This could account for both the potential bringing forward of the BBC release (they didn't want to wait until March), and the YouGov polling that's going on (bear in mind, the YouGov questions were specifically as part of a wider survey about streaming services).
And this isn't just a passing interest: working with the BBC to bring forward the release, and investing time and money into YouGov polling? That's a strong interest. That's so interested they've already invested something into it.
Of course, I don't know anything for certain, so take everything with a pinch of salt (it's just a theory...a gay pirates theory...), but I think it's something to consider as a strong possibility.
So what does this mean for us?
It means we need to keep streaming on iPlayer. Watch it as many times as you can. Share it with your friends and family. If you're outside the UK, get yourself a VPN and join the party. Watch the live broadcasts on Monday nights (if you have iPlayer, you can stream the live broadcast - this is what I do because I don't have a TV). Keep tweeting about it (add the #OurFlagBBC hashtag to the existing hashtags we're using). Tag and email the UK media (including TV guides and radio shows) and ask them to talk about the show/our campaign. If you're tagging/emailing Apple, Amazon or Netflix, make sure you mention you're from the UK (and tag their UK specific social media accounts).
According to Parrot Analytics, the demand in the UK for the show is rising - let's keep adding to that!
You can also sign up to YouGov and rate the show (more instructions in the quote retweets of the tweet I linked to earlier), and keep answering questions about TV shows and streaming (and marking Our Flag Means Death as one of your interests) as a way to try and get them to give you the specific questions about the show (these start as a question about streaming and streaming services, which then turn into questions about OFMD, so if you get a survey like that, take it!).
It's also worth considering that if there's any validity to this, then there's a possibility that they might be waiting until after the show has finished airing in the UK (the finale is airing on 25th March) to crunch all the numbers together. This means that if we don't hear anything in the next few weeks, do not despair! We need to buckle in for a long fight, and to keep pushing the show and making noise over the next few weeks and months, especially around the BBC release.
This show is worth the fight. Let's get our damned men back!
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eddies-ashtray · 1 year
Text
Knee Socks // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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Masterlist
Synopsis: Eddie has a thing for his best friend's thighs. She catches him jerking off and Eddie’s fantasy becomes reality. Part 2 to this blurb (though this can be read independently). 
WC: 2.7k
Category: Smut (18+).
Content: Eddie’s thigh kink, knee socks kink (?), kinda perv Eddie, kinda ditzy reader, masturbation (male receiving), fem receiving oral (face riding), nicknames. 
A/N: This is for my girls with thick thighs. I love you and you are gorgeous. Also, I have a tag list, but not everyone who liked the tag list post will be tagged here since many of the blogs do not have their ages in their bios--which is a requirement to be added to the tag list that many people ignored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
♡*♡*♡
Eddie’s never endured torture before but he is pretty sure that he has a good idea of what it would feel like. And he is currently experiencing it.
It’s a lazy Saturday evening and you and Eddie have spent the day together, which is the furthest thing from torture in his opinion. It’s the opposite of torture, actually; Eddie cherishes your company more than anything in the world. 
Right now though, you lay next to him on his bed—you, on your belly facing him, and Eddie, leaning against the headboard with his acoustic guitar in his lap—as you doodle in your notebook while humming one of his songs. And while that is nearly enough to send him into overdrive, you are also wearing a brand new skirt. The torture device itself.
Eddie knew he was in for the most torturous day when he answered his door and you were there in your black knee socks and that skirt, presenting it to him excitedly by giving him a twirl on his doorstep. He hadn’t missed the way your thighs jiggled with the movement. In fact, he fixated on it and forced himself to stifle a groan at the sight as you exclaimed, it even has pockets!
Previously, Eddie had thought that your red skirt and knee socks were the most deadly pairing, but this one–oh, God, this one. It’s a simple black skirt, nothing super fancy, but it is so—so—short that he’s sure that if you bent over, he’d get a pretty view of the curve of your ass and your soft cunt through your panties. The thought has his mouth watering instantly. 
He’s torn because he never wants you to leave, but he also really needs you to leave so he can take care of the growing bulge in his pants. Eddie is thankful he has his guitar covering his lap. 
Luckily, his dilemma is solved when you glance over at his alarm clock and say, “Oh! Shoot, I need to get home.” As you begin to shove your things into your bag. 
Relief floods over him, followed by a wave of guilt. He should not want his best friend to leave so he can jack off to the thought of her and the way her pretty, thick thighs look in her new skirt. 
Eddie’s about to climb off the bed after you get up, intending to walk you out even though his bedroom is no more than 20 short paces from the front door of the trailer. But he’s stopped by your hand on his arm applying gentle pressure to stop him from standing, the contact causing his face to burn hot and the skin under your hand to sizzle with electricity. 
“Don’t worry, Eddie, I can find my way to the door,” You tell him, not wanting him to have to walk you to his door. It’s not exactly far. 
“Oh, alright,” Eddie agrees without protest. He wouldn’t have to awkwardly hide his hardness from you after all. 
“See you tomorrow! Bye, Eddie,” You say with a dazzling smile as you open his bedroom door, giving him a little wave just before you exit his room and shut the door. 
“Bye,” Eddie says just as his door clicks shut. 
Sitting very still for about 15 seconds, he waits for the resolute slam of the trailer door before he hurriedly stands from his bed to place his acoustic guitar on its stand, and shoves his jeans down his legs, nearly tripping on his way back to his bed. 
Another wave of guilt crashes over him for a moment before fizzling out as he settles back on the bed and squeezes himself at the base of his cock. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his boxers likely stained from the sticky substance. 
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, flicking his wrist on his first stroke and running his thumb over the bright red tip. Pressing the tip of his thumb meanly into his leaking hole, Eddie moans loudly, unabashed in the empty trailer. 
The guilty part of him encourages him to get on with it, to stop teasing himself so the shameful act of thinking of you while he touches himself can be over with as soon as possible. So he does, quickly spitting thickly into his hand before wrapping it back around his thick length. Because he’s painfully hard, and desperate, and can’t fight off the image of your plush thighs as his fist flies over the length of his flushed cock.
Just as he’s getting into a fast, pleasurable rhythm, the worst–best?–thing happens. And it happens so quickly that he doesn’t have the time to stop, or throw a sheet over himself, or do anything that would make this moment less awkward. 
His bedroom door whips open.
“Sorry, Teddy, I forgot my-”
But Eddie doesn’t get to find out what you’d left behind. Because you freeze in his doorway. You, and your knee socks, and your teeny tiny skirt, and your mouth-watering thighs freeze at the cusp of his bedroom while he’s half naked in his bed as he pumps his cock to the thought of you. It throbs in his hand at the sight of you in all your gorgeous glory, stunned into silence—except for the tiny half-gasp, half-squeak that leaves you. 
This moment would be a whole lot more awkward and embarrassing if you’d done what he’d expected you to do the moment that door had opened. But you do none of what he thought you might. You hadn’t screamed in horror and covered your eyes or slammed his door shut and left immediately, leaving behind whatever it was you had left here. No, instead, you stand there, unable to take your eyes off his pretty, thick cock. Unable to remove your gaze from the pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip and the way his large hand moves over his length. Instead, you visibly swallow and rub your thighs together as if you’re trying to provide some relief for yourself. As if the sight of Eddie on his bed touching himself is enough to make you wet, to make your cunt ache with desire. 
So, all of this considered, Eddie takes a chance. 
Eddie takes a chance when he begins to lazily stroke his cock again in a much slower rhythm, teasing you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers at the movement. 
Eddie takes a chance when he says, “C’mere, sweetheart.” As his back arches just slightly off the bed when he tightens his fist around his girth on an upstroke. 
For the first time since you’d caught him, your gaze shifts from his cock to his face–which is probably tinged a pretty pink right about now, shades lighter than his tip. 
“W-what?” You stutter, delicate hand still poised on the door knob. 
“I said: come here, sweetheart,” Eddie repeats slowly and more commanding this time. 
It takes a moment, but eventually you scramble toward him while he continues the most torturous pace of his fist over his cock. 
Eddie had thought that earlier–when he was forced to watch you prance around his bedroom in that skirt and those knee socks–had been torture. But now, here you are, crawling onto his bed, and his palms are itching to reach out and touch you. 
Once you’re settled on your knees next to him–your skirt now bunched up high on your thighs from the way you’re kneeling–, you reach out to replace his hand with your own, but Eddie has different plans. 
“Nuh-uh-uh,” he hums, clicking his tongue in disapproval, halting your movements. 
Your gaze finds his eyes as your lips melt into a delicate pout. You, disappointed at the fact that he told you not to touch his cock. 
“But-please?” You beg, voice watery, and Eddie thinks he could cum just from your simple pleading to touch him. 
A slow, pleased smile spreads across his face before he clarifies, “I’ve been dreaming of something else, sweetheart...” His gaze falling to your legs and his free hand creeping up your thigh–causing goosebumps to rise in their wake–where he toys with the edge of your skirt. “And I’m just dying to have a taste.” 
“Oh,” You reply dumbly, breathlessly. “Yes, please.” 
Eddie’s brows knit together, pained by your sweetness. “God, you’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you, angel?” He says, stroking your thigh gently with his thumb.
Your head ducks bashfully at the new nickname and his remark and it’s all making his cock somehow harder and his belly stickier with pre-cum. His hand slows to a stop on his cock, sure that if he kept it up, he’d be cumming any second now. 
“Alright, angel, get up here,” Eddie instructs, tapping his chest. “Want these pretty thighs around my head,” He says with a mean squeeze to the dough of your thigh. 
He expects you to reach underneath your skirt to tug off your panties before you climb over him, but instead you move to straddle his chest immediately. Since your skirt is so short, it simply bunches around your hips with the new position. And he finds the most wonderful sight once you’re hovering over his face: your naked cunt, already slick and glistening. Saliva fills his mouth at the view and he groans. You’d been in his home all day, wearing that tiny skirt without any panties, knowing full well that he’d get an eyeful if you so much as bent over. 
“Naughty girl,” Eddie growls as he brings both his arms around your thighs before turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the plushness of your left thigh. It’s just as soft beneath his lips as he thought it would be. 
With his hands now gripping the outsides of your thighs, Eddie finds they are soft and sweet, so pillowy they feel like clouds beneath his fingertips. Digging his fingers into the flesh roughly, greedily, Eddie begins sucking a harsh bruise into your thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically above him. 
If a heaven existed, this would be it. 
Though he’s dreamt of marking you up, of scattering bruises across your pretty thighs and admiring his work, it would take some time to do it just the way he wants. And right now, his craving for a taste of your soaked cunt—which hovers teasingly above him like a feast after months of not eating—is so overwhelming Eddie simply cannot wait any longer to devour you. He’ll take his time with you another day, but right now all he knows is that he might die if he goes another second without his mouth on your puffy cunt. 
So, Eddie tightens his grip around your thighs and pulls you forcefully down onto his tongue, causing you to gasp in shock at the swift action. 
Eddie’s groan of pleasure rivals your moan as his tongue rolls teasingly over your pudgy clit for the first time. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a thick strip from your slick-leaking hole all the way up your cunt, getting a proper taste of you. You’re a slice of heaven. 
“Oh! E-Eddie!” You cry, and this only causes his hips to thrust into the air in search of friction, of relief. But he’ll neglect his cock forever in favour of your taste on his tongue. 
The crush of curls on your mound glistens with your slick now as Eddie begins to devour you messily, shaking his head back and forth in a fast motion, an action that represents his carnal hunger for you. When you roll your hips hungrily over his tongue, his cock throbs on his belly where it lays, steadily leaking pre-cum. 
“There you go, angel. Use my tongue,” Eddie encourages after pulling away for a moment. The seconds it takes him to say that to you when he doesn’t have his mouth on you are torturous. 
Once he gets his tongue back on you, the point of it seeks out that little magic button that has you rolling your hips more aggressively over his face. You’re a messy, moaning angel above him as he tongues at your clit. 
Eddie thinks this is the happiest he has ever been; the prettiest girl in the world sitting on his faceher thighs pressing against his ears so tightly her moans are muffled slightly and her cunt on his tongue so wet he can hardly fathom it. 
“Mmh, p-please!” You beg, though he’s not sure for what. But he realizes he doesn’t care because you are so vocal and listening to you moan and beg above him is his new favourite song. 
Again, Eddie flattens his tongue over your messy cunt, but this time pushes his tongue into your weeping hole, and begins to thrust it in and out as he brings one of his hands up and around to toy with your clit with his thumb. This combination seems to be your favourite as you moan wantonly above him, hands flying down from where they were previously gripping the headboard to crush into the curls atop his head. 
“Oh, God,” You moan, shivering above him, totally blissed out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, your eyelids slide closed, and your head tips back. The delicious slide of his tongue in and out of you combined with his thumb rubbing meanly into your clit is just too much. 
Eddie can feel your slick dripping down his cheeks and chin, but he doesn’t mind in the least. In fact, he basks in the sticky mess of it all. Sex is not worth it if it doesn't get messy. 
Your hips roll over his tongue again and your hands in his hair pull harshly, causing Eddie to moan at the prickling sensation, cock twitching at the mixture of the pleasure and pain of the action. 
“Fuck! G-gonna cum, Eddie! Please, please can I cum?” You plead weakly from above, eyes finding his, which have remained open this whole time, not wanting to miss a single second of this glorious moment. 
Unwilling to pull away from you in order to answer, Eddie simply mumbles something that sounds almost like yes against your cunt. You seem to understand though because Eddie can feel you clench around his tongue, all the while his thumb continues to rub tight circles into your clit. Your eyes screw shut as you ride out your orgasm, squeaking out the cutest moan when your mouth falls into a pretty O shape, and you thank him over and over again. Soon, your hips halt their movements and you pull in heaving breaths. 
Whimpering as you gently push his hand away from your sensitive clit, you collapse forward against the headboard behind him. You could stay like this for as long as you needed—forever if you wanted to—and Eddie would forever be happy right here between your thighs with your cum smeared across his chin and cheeks and your taste heavy on his tongue. 
Unfortunately, that is not a realistic fantasy, and eventually Eddie is helping you off of his face and you’re collapsing next to him, breathing heavily even still. 
Rolling over onto his side to look at you, he smiles at the sweat dotting your forehead, and brings a hand up to your face, tenderly stroking your warm cheek with the back of his clean index finger. You nuzzle into the touch and smile lazily up at the ceiling.
Eddie doesn’t have to ask to know the answer to his question, but he wants to hear it from you anyway. Wants to confirm that his dreams have just come to fruition and you are actually laying here, clothes rumpled and your wetness staining his sheets. 
“How was that?” 
Your head lolls to the side and you gaze up at him incredulously. His face is shiny, covered in your wetness. It causes a new warmth to bloom in your chest. 
Despite the fact that you thought it was obvious just how much you’d enjoyed it, you sigh dreamily: “Wonderful.” 
And Eddie can’t wait to make you feel wonderful again and again and again, to make you cum so hard you not only see stars, but entire galaxies. 
♡*♡*♡
Tag List: @tvserie-s-world @micheledawn1975 @hi-im-a @bbellee @apricxtt @rhirojo @daraperl @lmili @lunatictardis @sw34terw34ther @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @stardust-galaxies @d20eddie @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @bunniwarrior @trashpackbitxh @yoursunnydelorean @seweratwitch @hunnimilkteaaa @pretty-rad-for-a-redhead @a-villain-vying-for-attention @lil-graveling @msmimiandrew @eddies-lover @whoreforhowl @saramelaniemoon @brittanyyydamnit @winnifredburkleismyhero @edsforehead 
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wintfleur · 4 months
Text
౨ৎ put a bow on it
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°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )
°. — summary ( Stella wants to put a bow on her boyfriends bicep, she’s just a girl !!! )
°. — details ( g; fluff. w; pure fluff, it gets a little suggestive at the end. wc; 1.6k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I don’t know what happened I just had the sudden inspiration to write this after watching this Tiktok, so this is definitely based off of that. I hope you guys enjoy !!! Please don’t be a silent reader !!! Also omg I can’t stop giggling about that picture of rut, I had sm fun making it !!! )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚。⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!
Stella giggled as she watched along to the TikTok video, her feet absentmindedly kicking in the air as she laid on her stomach in her bed. The video showed a girl trying to wrap her boyfriend's chest with a ribbon to make a bow. It was simple but it was adorable and now all Stella could think about was trying it out on her own boyfriend. 
Stella liked the TikTok before shutting off her phone and dropping it somewhere amongst her few plushies and pillows she had on her bed. She lifted her jaw that she had rested on her hand and tilted her head back to look at Rutger who was sitting at her desk, his laptop in front of him and his headphones on his head as he worked on his homework. 
He was wearing one of his gray compression shirts that drove her wild, to the point where Stella had playfully banned him from wearing them around her because she was afraid, she wouldn't be able to ‘control’ herself around him. Rutger wore them anyway . . . he loved her stares. 
Stella bit her lip as she watched her boyfriend who was oblivious to her stares, his shoulders flexed as he quickly typed his paper and his head occasionally bopped along to the song, he was listening to through his headphones . . . it was probably a playlist she had made him. It wasn't fair how effortlessly attractive he is. 
Stella sadly tore herself away from her thoughts of her boyfriend's very . . . very muscular shoulders and quietly slipped out of her bed. She felt the cold air of her dorm hit her bare legs as she left the comfort of her warm blankets to distract her boyfriend. Stella wrapped her arms around Rutgers shoulders and leaned down to rest her chin in his shoulder, she felt her  ⸺ his shirt rise up, she shivered feeling the cold on the back of her bare thighs. 
Rutger smiled and paused his typing, tilting his head to face her while he took off his headphones, setting them next to one of Stella's many sketchbooks that were stacked on her desk. “Hi pretty girl” he whispered before he placed a quick smooch on her jaw, Stella smiled and placed her own kiss on his jaw before whispering back “so . . . i have this silly idea.” 
“Oh? say more” Rutger turned around in her spinning chair to face her, his hands moving to her hips and bringing her to sit sideways on his lap while one of her arms were still wrapped around his shoulders. Stella smiled as she made herself comfortable in his lap, she fit perfectly against him. “Can I wrap a bow around your biceps for a TikTok?” Stella asked him quickly. 
Rutger couldn't help but have a chuckle of shock leave his lips at the strange request, but he could never say no to that pretty face, so he smiled and quickly pecked stella’s lips before saying “get your ribbon” Stella almost squeals in happiness, quickly placing a big kiss on Rutgers cheek before hopping off his lap and rushing over to her bedside table, opening the bottom drawer that had some of her arts and crafts supplies. 
Rutger bit his lip and leaned back in her chair as he watched her lean down and look through the supplies, giving him a good look at her panties. A hum of success leaves her lips as she pulls out a pretty pink ribbon, quickly turning back to face him as she holds it up. Rutger quickly looks up to her face and he smiles “Where do you want me?” 
“Just stand here and look pretty” Stella winked as she motioned for him to stand in front of her. He got up from her chair and stood where she wanted him to, watching as she got on her knees on her bed to look for her phone that got lost in the blankets and pillows. “That just so happens to be what I'm best at,” Rutger jokes, smiling when Stella giggles. Rutger stopped himself from grabbing onto Stella's waist and pulling her against him, once she found her phone and stood in front of him. 
“Would you mind holding this for me you stud?” Stella teased him playfully as she held her phone out for him to hold so she could tie the ribbon into a bow. Rutger felt his lips twitch into a smirk at the nickname Stella loved to tease him with, he grabs her phone and slides it into the pocket of his sweatpants. Stella smiled and grabbed one of his arms, wrapping the pink silk ribbon around it, humming along to the song that was playing from the TikTok she had watched. 
Rutger watched Stella with a fond smile as she tried to smooth the ribbon around his bicep so the bow would be pretty and neat. Her fingers were so gentle as she tried to tie the bow, he didn't understand why it drove him so crazy. Stella looked up from his bicep when she felt him flex under her touch, she looked up at him through her eyelashes “Stop flexing, I can’t tie the bow.” 
“I’m not flexing . . . i guess I'm just too muscular for your ribbon” Rutger smirked as he shrugged his shoulders, pretending like he totally didn't flex his arms so she could feel his muscles. Stella rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's antics before letting out a giggle when he flexed again as she tied the bow “I can literally feel you flexing” Stella rolled her eyes again when she saw the bashful smile on Rutgers lips. 
“Save the flexing for the video sexy” stella gave Rutger a wink, teasingly placing a kiss on his shoulder right above the pretty pink bow. Rutger bit back a groan as he felt her slip her hand into his front pocket to grab her phone, her hand teasingly lingering near the inside of his thigh for a few seconds before pulling her hand out and acting like nothing happened. Rutger chuckled and shook his head in disbelief as he watched Stella unlock her phone and find the perfect audio. She knew what she was doing. 
“What?” Stella asked Rutger as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes innocently as she pretended to be oblivious. Rutger smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, he felt the bow tighten around his bicep and he held in a wince at the tight pressure. He watched as your eyes dropped from his face down to his arm, eyes widening slightly at the sight. Rutger clears his throat and gives stella a smirk when she quickly looks up at him, her cheeks flushed as he spoke “Are you gonna keep staring or are we gonna film the TikTok.” 
“Cause if not, i have an idea of something else we could film” Rutger smiled as he leaned his face closer to stella’s, this wasn't the first time Rutger had hinted at them making their own home movie . . . stella was always worried about their iClouds getting hacked . . . but stella had a perfectly good camcorder they could use. Rutger gave Stella a toothy smile when he noticed her breath hitch and the shy look that comes across her face at the thought. 
“Shut up and stand there please” Stella shyly mumbled as she grabbed her boyfriend's arm and moved it so it wasn't folded across his chest, her cheeks were burning, and she felt her heartbeat faster under Rutger's gaze. Rutger didn't look away from Stella's pretty eyes as he let her move his arm however, she wanted. “I love when you're so demanding. '' Rutger decided to close his mouth when Stella looked up at him with a heated glare, but he could see that his words were starting to affect her. 
Rutger kept his mouth closed as Stella started to film, he could hear the familiar sound of Lana del Rey playing from her phone. When he noticed Stella started to zoom in, he lifted his arm up and flexed, a gasp leaving Stella's lips when she heard the rip of her ribbon before it fell to her floor. Stella stopped filming, deciding it was long enough already, and before she could complain about her ripped bow Rutger was putting his hands on Stella's waist, pulling her flush against him as he leaned down to whisper in her ear “Wanna see something else wrapped in a bow?” 
“But your homework!” Stella exclaimed as she put her hands on Rutgers chest and softly pushed him back from her neck he was about to kiss. Rutger chuckles and slides his hands down from her waist and to the back of her thighs, effortlessly picking her up and moving to drop her softly on her bed. Stella giggled and moved her hips a little to get comfortable before Rutger was swiftly moving between her legs. 
“Consider it as helping me study my anatomy” Rutger breathed out before leaning down and taking her lips into his in a passionate kiss. Stella let out a sound of surprise at the rough kiss, but she was quick to kiss back, her mouth opening and his tongue smoothly sliding into her mouth as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Stella softly tugged on the hair at Rutgers' nape as his hands traveled her sides. Stella pulled away from the kiss to whisper as she caught her breath “You don't take anatomy classes?” 
Rutger smirked and slid one of his hands under her shirt, his warm touch sending shivers down Stella's spine as he softly moved his hand up her side. His thumb teasingly resting under her boob as he stared into Stella's pretty eyes. A smirk makes his way across his lips when he sees the look in his girlfriend's eyes. His homework was long forgotten in both of their minds. 
“I do now”
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( rutger, stella . . . and her camcorder . . . imagine 😵‍💫 )
°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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