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#gn i don’t feel well
crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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just here to proudly announce that I made my own Starbucks lemon loaf today with my own icing and it turned out amazing ^_^ and I made cream puffs last week and they were also amazing ^_^
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prxckedradiolove · 2 months
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so normal about dinahboose 🙃😭
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inkats · 1 year
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Ahem. Realization that I’m reverting back to sixth grade -> thinking about the state of sixth grade. Hm. I might not be doing too well right now. Or maybe I am doing well and getting better I am just comfortable in the misery?
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captainfern · 4 months
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thinking about captain john price being built like this
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oh… (18+, gn!reader)
in my humblest of opinions, the ‘strong dad bod’ is one of the sexiest fucking builds a man can have and i can’t stop thinking about them
especially if price had one *screams into my pillow like an idiot*
can you imagine how obsessed he’d be with draping his body over yours ?? like if you’re at the kitchen counter, or standing on your toes to reach something on a high shelf, price would be smushing himself right up against your back
big arms wrapping around your torso, large hands splayed over the softness of your belly, the warm mounds of his pectorals and stomach pressed firmly against your back
he’d tuck his head against your shoulder and kiss your neck and the side of your face, pushing more of his weight onto you
such a good hugger, so warm and cozy and safe <3 would also be used as a human weighted blanket and i’d hope to god he’d trap me beneath him oh my god
imagine running your hands up and down the smooth, fatty ridges of muscle that took up most of his abdomen and arms. the hair too !! ugh i’d just pet him for hours like a little cat lol
*sarah paulson voice* THE HORNY IS ESCAPING !!!
thinking about the feel of this kind of body draped over your back as he fucked you hard into the mattress, both of his hands on your hips and keeping you pinned so that he could rut into you like a man starved
mmm or his large hands wrapped around your legs and keeping them bent up towards your head while he drills into you, his own soft tummy rubbing against yours
price with a muscly dad bod like this would make you put your legs over his wide shoulders while he’s eating you out, one hand on the pudge of your lower stomach and the other squeezing the flesh of your arse
god his cock would be so fucking thick like don’t even get me started 😭
he’d stretch you open so well too, make you come almost one too many times before he’s easing himself into you and stretching you open with a moan of your name
or or you’d ride him and constantly running your hands and/or nails up and down the soft dips of his body, moaning as his cock hit so deep and almost made you come within mere seconds of sinking down onto his cock lmao
i’m so horny for price and this type of body oh my god i just can’t
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had
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synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling
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— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)
— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)
— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON
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you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.
it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.
“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”
satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?
“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.
you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.
“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”
your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”
“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”
satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 
why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.
“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”
“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”
“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”
you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.
gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 
not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.
but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 
and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 
he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?
satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?
it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 
you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 
and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 
he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?
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breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 
gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 
satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 
but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.
“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”
“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 
satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 
satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 
you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 
“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 
“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”
you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 
“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 
your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 
“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”
“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”
the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 
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you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 
in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 
it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 
you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 
suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 
there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 
everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 
every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 
in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 
you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 
before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 
satoru. of course.
he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.
you shouldn’t open it.
but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?
before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 
“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”
“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”
you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 
“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 
“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”
“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 
the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 
“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”
and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 
“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 
“why did you leave me?” he asks. 
“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”
“why? just tell me why.”
“i don’t have to—”
“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 
and then you break.
you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 
so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”
you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 
“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”
“you can realize a lot in a month—”
“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”
“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 
satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 
“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”
“satoru, you need to leave—”
“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”
“i didn’t ask you to—”
“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”
“satoru,” you plead. 
you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.
satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.
“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 
his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.
“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 
“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.
satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 
“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 
it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  
“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 
satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 
you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 
“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”
“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”
“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.
“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”
“because i couldn’t!”
“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 
it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 
“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”
“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”
you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”
“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”
“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.
he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 
“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”
“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”
“promise?”
“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”
“you deserved that.”
“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”
“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”
“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”
“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.
yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 
“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 
but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.
“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”
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read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
if this fic was a person i would want it dead.
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rafayelism · 3 months
Text
dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments
featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader
(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?
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rafayel
a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 
hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).
“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”
“...you have cats?”
“yeah. 3.”
“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”
chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..
he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 
over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 
cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 
pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)
lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 
“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 
he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 
“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 
with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 
“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 
he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 
“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.
“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.
“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 
“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 
“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 
you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 
“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 
he smiles. “with flying colors.” 
xavier
chronic napper. (yapper?) 
has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)
his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 
lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.
“am i not already.. living with you?” 
“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”
“yeah..?”
 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 
xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 
“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 
“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 
“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 
“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 
xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 
“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 
he nips at your neck. 
“bedtime. now.” 
zayne
3 years older than you 
he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much
“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend
cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)
you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)
no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 
“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”
“huh? no, we live together.”
“you WHAT???”
he’s a virgo……. erm……
the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.
you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 
“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 
“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 
you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 
zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 
“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 
the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 
“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 
you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 
“thank you for waiting for me.”
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dr3c0mix · 4 months
Text
Bloody Red Roses
Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader
CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now
👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.
👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.
👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.
👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!
👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!
👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.
👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.
👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”
👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess
👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.
👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear
👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.
👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.
👑 “…”
👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”
👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”
👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.
👑 “Hm…”
👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.
👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?
👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.
👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.
👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.
👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.
👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”
👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.
👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..
👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.
👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..
👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)
👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.
👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..
👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”
👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.
👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless
👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”
👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..
👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”
👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…
👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him
👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys
👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”
👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.
👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!
👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”
👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.
👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!
👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.
👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.
👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”
👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch
👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!
👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!
👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”
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It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq
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crybaby-bkg · 2 years
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I was talking to this guy earlier after I posted a pic of me in my workout gear (looking hawt as hell, might I add) and he literally said that he just wanted to ruin me and his entire purpose in life is to ruin me and me only. would I be wrong to use that in a fic LAJSKSJDKDFJ
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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Ryomen Sukuna
TW: suggestive noncon, threats, Sukuna in general
gn reader
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Thinking about sorcerer ! reader – only instead of having a really offensive technique, it's purely defensive.
A power to pacify. Creating the ultimate stalemate. All attacks are nullified – people can’t even throw one measly punch your way.
– which obviously means you’re the ultimate babysitter for trigger-happy curses like Sukuna.
The only issue is…. you don’t at all behave in accordance with your technique. 
You are perhaps the most childish and bratty sorcerer he’s ever been forced to share air with. Even worse than that white-haired prick. Where with him – he could at least spar. But you? You just monitor him while making the most meaningless and ever-so-grating conversation.
“I read in an old book that you’re a cannibal.” You muse with a smile. Eyes vibrant with curiosity – playful even – as though the prospect of him eating human flesh shouldn’t be making your own skin run raw with goosebumps. “Is that true?” 
His brow raises at your eagerness. His mouth is a prim line before muttering an unenthusiastic. “Yes.”
“Really?” You jump. “Why? Does it taste good?”
It’s an awfully stupid question – he thinks with an ever-growing wrinkle furrowing his brows. But suppose explaining to you how it’s meant to strike fear into people’s hearts would only make you laugh.
He huffs.
“Tastes like meat.”
“Right~” You sing-song as though it was a satisfying answer – but then almost immediately add onto it. “So, like chicken or beef?” 
You really are such a nuisance, he thinks. Grumbling. “Pig.”
You hum – then smack your lips. And he feels another onset of annoyance – expecting another moronic query to come pouring gracelessly from your lips.
“You’re a little disappointing ��� you know that?” You say instead.
He picks his head up at that – finally looking back at you through the bars of his cell to where you sit opposite way on a chair – looking straight back at him, fearing no harm.
There are about a million seals covering the walls, keeping him trapped. Though you’d feel just as safe without them.
“I’d thought you’d have more to say, but…” You pout. “Turns out you’re just boring.”
His nose makes an offended scrunch – eyes narrowed. “Watch how you speak to me.”
You laugh – your chuckle in itself is something that makes the hairs at the back of his neck rise out of ire. That smug smile on your face enough to have his fists ball at his sides – and at the moment you lick your lips, saying, “Or what?” he’s already on his feet with his hands wrapped tight around the bars – knuckles turning white in his grip.
His skin sizzles from the cursed energy imbued in the metal – like holy water to a demon – and still, he doesn’t let go. Four eyes, blood red, glaring at you with a look that’s nothing short of deadly. If he could, you knew he’d have your heart in his hand forever ago. But the fact that he doesn’t – the fact that he can’t – only makes your grin ever sharper.
“Wow~” You tease. “Look at that face~” Giggling. “So scary~”
His nostrils flare as he releases the bars. Hands healed shortly after. “One of these days, brat – I’ll have you on your knees.”
You feign a gasp. “Sukuna~ so indecent~” Your grin lessens into a coy smirk. “To think the King of Curses is flirting with little ole me~” You bite your lip, looking kittenish – eyes amused while watching him recede into the dark of his cell.
You break from the act with another laugh.
Beginning anew. “I do have a question, though.”
“Naturally.” He mutters, stretching his arms – all four – one pair above his head and the other behind his back.
“Are you double-packed down there as well? The same with the rest of you? Or~”
His spine cracks between tensed shoulders – and you think, to be a thousand-year-old specter, he’s awfully easy to rile up.
But then he laughs – a throaty, low-tuned snicker that echoes against the cell walls. 
“As I said – one of these days…” He walks up to the bars again, his chin fitting through them. “You’ll find out.”
There’s another chuckle – his eyes slim with something that makes you feel naked. Suddenly flushed – smile gone – you watch him lick his lips.
“And to answer your next question, you insufferable brat.” 
You gulp.
“I think you’ll taste like peaches.”
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dearbraus · 5 months
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Monstrous Oddities ࿐
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— Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney.
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, monster fucking, diphallia (multiple cocks), dragon dicks, double penetration, marking (Neuvi), knotting, doggy style, semi public sex, daddy/sir kink (Wrio), barbed penis, overstimulation, phone sex, pussy whipped Lyney, creampies, unprotected sex, animalistic urges, dragon!neuvi, dogboy!wrio, catboy!lyney general dick headcanons. ⊹ Run time. 1.2k ⊹ Note. This came to me at 2am after reading some other headcanons I previously wrote. Enjoy <3
Dick Headcanons —
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꧁ Neuvillette - Two is better than one ꧂
Specifications: 12”, scaled and slightly ribbed, thin tapered heads that’s perfect for kissing your cervix, and full, heavy balls twitch when you suck on them.
❥ Most presumed that aside from his pointed ears and penchant for plain water, that Monsieur Neuvillette was more human than dragon— they’d be incorrect of course but that’s knowledge only you get to relish in. ❥ Beneath his perfectly tailored slacks lay not one but two cocks. The peculiarities don’t end there, however, his cocks are slightly ribbed and scaly in a way that resembles a fish's scales. His cocks are tinged blue near his pelvis but the colouration is lost amongst the neatly trimmed puff of his pearly white pubes that trails up his abdomen. ❥ In spite of his years, Neuvillette is still rather unaccustomed to human convention. It took seeing your shocked expression to realize that most weren’t as well endowed as he was, nor were they likely to have two girthy cocks. So, it takes him a bit to learn how your body reacts to him and just how much you’re able to take. He’s willing to learn, he’s nothing if not dutiful and gentle. ❥ He learns that to take one of his cocks he’ll need to work you open with a couple of his thick fingers first. That is, of course, after he’s warmed you up with his forked, serpentine tongue that nearly engulfs the whole of your aching cunt. And that you’re sure to squirt if grinds his second cock into your throbbing clit as he fucks you. Since taking even one of his cocks is a challenge, more often than not, Neuvillette uses his second cock to stimulate your clit while his mouth is busy sucking and licking the tender skin of your neck and chest. He can’t help it, the need to leave you covered in signs of him is far too strong, that’s why he cums in and on your pussy. ❥ Once you’ve gotten used to the stretch, can take it with ease, and are feeling a little adventurous, Neuvillette doesn’t waste the chance to split you open on both of his cocks. Seeing you so full of him stirs something primal within him. It’s a feeling he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge him but it claws its way out of his chest with you. The urge to remind you that you’re his, and only his gets muddled between kisses to your tear stained cheeks. You’re his perfect pet, you take him so well, and he’ll be sure to remind you.
꧁ Wriothesley - The duke is a dog ꧂
Specifications: 8”, rosy, round bulbous head, girthy, with a thick knot nestled amongst a thatch of unruly, dark curls that drives him wild when you tug on them.
❥ Wriothesley’s sharp canines aren’t the only wolfish things about him. Below his belt resides a truly monstrous cock. You think it’s rather titillating, your mouth waters just at the sight of his fat knot but Wrio was rather weary, he knew it was a bit peculiar and didn’t want to scare you away. Those worries didn’t last too long. ❥ Jerking off was always a bit tiresome for Wrio. His knot ached to inflate inside of a warm, wet hole so his calloused, spit slick hands never satisfied that need. The first time he fucked you, he nearly came after pushing the tip in. Wrio was so sensitive, he hadn’t cum properly in far too long. He nearly tore your silk sheets from how tightly he gripped them as he willed himself to sink his cock a little deeper into your pussy. He wasn’t much a believer in Celestia but he felt like he ascended that first time … and every time after that. ❥ He didn’t knot you until you’d been together for two years. Though you swore you could take, that you wanted to take it, Wrio always worried he’d lose control. It wasn’t a feeling he liked. Wriothesley liked feeling in control, he liked how you willingly submitted to him, hushed cries of “daddy” or “sir” never far from your lips, adoration pooling within the depths of your eyes. But, he was grateful he loosened the reins. ❥ One stress filled evening snowballed into you splayed across his desk at the fortress, your puffy, aching cunt slick and throbbing with need for him on display. You were so wet, moaning so loudly for him, it was almost too easy for him to slip his knot into your weeping hole. Your wanton whimpers were forever burned into his memory as it began to swell inside of you, his rough skinned hands roaming all over your body as his teeth dug into the flesh of your shoulder. Your eyes glazed over and a shudder wracked through your body as he filled your cunt with his seed. He knew then that he spent far too long depriving himself and you. ❥ Wriothesley was gone after that, he just couldn’t go on knowing how sweet you sounded as you squealed and begged for him while filled with his knot and cum. Maybe he was greedy but you loved being his cockdrunk pup. So, it was a win-win.
꧁ Lyney  - He has more tricks up his sleeves ꧂
Specifications: 5”, veiny, sensitive head, equally sensitive barbs, kissable hip bones, and a leaky tip that’s just begging for your kisses.
❥ While his sister Lynette possessed most of the outward cat-like traits that was carried down their lineage, most of Lyney’s feline genetics poked through in his personality and behaviour, except for his cock. His pretty, blush pink cock was barbed near the base. He once read that they were meant to aid mating but he found that they made his cock far too sensitive to touch. He could only bear to lightly graze the tips of his fingers over his shaft most days. More often than not, Lyney came untouched, blowing his load in his underwear from the friction of the fabric alone. ❥ The first time you sucked his cocked, he cried from how good it felt, pushing your head down until you gagged. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, far too blissed out to notice until afterward (to which he spent the next five minutes fawning over you and apologising). Now, Lyney didn’t fancy himself a hedonist but he quickly became addicted to the way you laved your tongue over his barbs, and grazed your teeth over the sensitive flesh. ❥ Lyney became overstimulated every time the two of you fucked. Though, that didn’t stop him from pushing himself past the point of sanity so that you’d cum on his cock. He felt selfish otherwise, and he found nothing more satisfying than bringing you to completion whether it be with his fingers, mouth, cock, or one of the many toys the two of you seemed to amass. So, even if he was on the brink of blacking out from the pleasure, his cock pink and raw, he was going to fuck you were just as far gone as he was. Even if it took hours. ❥ Sometimes he found himself getting hard just thinking about you. The mind was a fickle thing, it too often loved to play tricks. Like making Lyney’s innocent thoughts trickle into passion filled memories that left him aching and needy for you. He’d call you far too late into the night just to hear your voice as ground his palm against the weepy tip of cock, musing how much he missed the feel of your skin against his. He may have been cumbrained and addicted to your sweet cunt, but he was still a romantic.
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© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months
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Safe Together (Venom Drabble)
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Venom x GN!Reader / requests are OPEN
Summary: Venom has a confession to make
Venom tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
“WE FEEL SAFE.” 
“That’s great, Vee,” you reply softly, smiling at the floating head hovering over your shoulder. Venom’s eyes crinkle happily, and you press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I always want you to feel safe.” 
“NO, YOU ARE NOT UNDERSTANDING.”
Your smile falters a fraction, and you put the washing you’re folding down to pay closer attention to Venom. You gesture for him to continue. Venom’s tongue lolls out of his serrated teeth for a moment as he thinks of how to express whatever it is he wants to say. 
“WE FEEL SAFE. WITH YOU.”
You can feel your heart swelling. It’s not something to be taken lightly, having someone feel safe with you. And to have that expressed verbally as well? 
“Vee,” you said in half a whisper. “I don’t know what to say- I,” you stumble over your words for a moment. “You make me feel safe, too.” 
Venom’s head gave a short nod, though it wasn’t as if he needed the confirmation. He had all the time full view of your thoughts, memories, and feelings. He knew exactly how you felt about him. 
“WE ARE SAFE TOGETHER,” he practically purrs. 
“Yes, we are. So long as we have each other, buddy,” you confirm for him, rubbing a thumb over his waxy skin. 
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yxami · 5 months
Text
happy nut or not November day 9
desc: yandere puppyboy x gn reader, mentions of nsfw, obsession, marking, breeding, stalking, obsession, perverted habits, I dunno what else
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Golden retriever boyfriend who perks up at any chance to please you, loving every-time you run your fingers through his hair, you’ve accustomed yourself to rotting in bed after work so you could cuddle with him all night.
He’s always whipping something up in the kitchen when you get home so you’re happy and full. He always has it written down on the whiteboard magnetically held on your fridge.
If you recall correctly you think it might’ve been a soup of some sort, he was always switching it up every week so nothing was ever repeated unless you liked it and asked for it again. Today was a special occasion since you were bringing a friend over but that was a surprise for him.
“Hey, welcome home!” He happily says, tail wagging as he sees you stepping inside the apartment, he’s about to run up and hug you until he sees a figure behind you. He already doesn’t like the look of this.
“Hey babe, I’ve told you about Erin right?” You introduce your coworker, letting him pop up beside you as you scoot to the left. “He’s over for dinner!” You smile, but it doesn’t help with his boiling jealousy at all.
“Maybe.. I don’t remember” He brushed off your coworkers presence and goes off to the kitchen, making you miss out on his daily affection when around this time.
“He seems nice!” Your coworker laughs awkwardly, wondering if you also picked up on the switch after seeing him.
“Yeah, he is”
As you and your coworker sit on the couch chatting your boyfriend is left grumbling to himself about this stupid visitor, and how he was ruining everything just by being here.
He was never this salty but the fact that someone was invading his territory, his own house, is bewildering to him. You didn’t even ask him if it was okay to bring someone over.
He sulks with his tail and ears low while stirring the tomato soup he made. He brings the bowls to the dinner table and calls you over, failing to have enough care in the world to address your friend as well.
“It’s really good! Did you add anything new this time?” You grin, dipping a quarter of your bread into your tomato soup before chewing then gulping it down.
“Yeah, some new seasonings” He mumbled unenthusiastically as he plays with his food, uselessly moving his spoon in the tomato soup he served himself.
His mood only sours further when he hears the wretched voice of your coworker trying to pipe in about how savory his cooking was. It only made him growl more under his breath.
Yandere puppy boy that cleans up after the two of you finish and wonders if your coworker is going to leave yet, dinner was over so what purpose did that guy have left to be here?
He’s so tempted to bite and punch him until he leaves but he knows he has to behave.
He’s so ecstatic when the idiot finally leaves and goes to his own home, where he should’ve had his dinner in the first place instead of interrupting the romantic dinner he could’ve had with you!
Yandere puppy boy that not only has jealousy problems but attachment issues specifically during his heat. He honestly can’t help it when he raids your underwear drawer looking for his favorite pair as soon as he starts feeling heat rise throughout his body.
It’s just so calming whenever he’s able to have your underwear with him as he pumps his cock with it until you finally come home.
He’s so needy that he’ll tear your clothes off so it’s easier, he can just buy you new work pants tomorrow anyways. He’s been meaning to buy you a new pair!
He can even make it up to you as he bends you over the couch armrest, lining up the head of his cock right against your hole before pushing slowly inside of you.
He gives you about 5 seconds to get used to his cock before he’s moving his hips, going at a slow pace at first. He loves how you already writhe at his touch when he runs his hands down your sides before using your hips as a handle.
He’s never usually this in control but during his heat he can’t help but want to provide everything for you. Especially when he can fuck these cute little moans out of you.
Yandere puppy boy that marks you with kisses and nips at your neck after bringing you close, turning those nibbles into love bites until he’s needily lapping at your skin. He knows you prefer when it’s not in obvious places but he can’t help but want to show people that you’re already taken.
His cock bumps up against a sensitive spot inside of you so many times while his balls slap against your squeezed thighs and your legs feel like jello even with the armrest that you used for support.
He’s bullying your sensitive hole with his fat cock making the regular skin slapping sound until you’re cumming around it, still getting fucked while a plap plap plap sound echos through the room. You dig your nails into the couch’s skin while you pant and hear his moans.
He pays no mind to the sounds unlike you, grunting as he continues his feverish thrusts into you, you just feel too good to stop now. Especially when you keep tightening against him like you want to suffocate his cock with your insides.
He’s able to handle another minute of being inside of you until his vision blurs as he reaches his high, spilling his seed inside of you as he blabbers about how much he loves you, tail wagging at speeds you only see during times like these.
Yandere puppyboy who’s so love sick he’ll run over during his break to your workplace to see what you’re doing. He won’t exactly directly visit but he’ll try to see what’s going on from the doors of your workplace.
He’s always been too nervous to come in without an excuse since you’d probably send him back to work. So he usually settles with the peeping at your office window until his breaks over.
And if he has an excuse it’s food related, bringing you lunch that you might’ve forgotten or just giving you more since he wanted to see how cute you looked focused on your work before noticing him.
Yandere puppy boy who’s just too obsessed with you <3
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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months
Note
I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
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screampied · 2 months
Note
can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’
sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3
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“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”
he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.
“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.
“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”
“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.
sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”
“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”
you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.
sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?
the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.
he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”
“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud only made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”
“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel villainous person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”
a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”
“…shut up,” you grouse, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”
you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”
sukuna looks down at you before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”
“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.
sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”
“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.
usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.
he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile goes against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”
“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.
with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.
abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”
“i love you too, kuku.”
“…..call me that again and see what happens.”
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3K notes · View notes
ncroissant · 29 days
Text
switch! doppelgänger francis mosses x dom! gn! reader x sub! francis mosses
summary: double-teaming the real francis with doppel! francis
wc: 1.4k
content warning: nsfw, cock can be viewed as a strap, nipple play (personal fave), throat-fucking, blow jobs, hand jobs, dirty talk, doppel francis is referred to as doppel, wrist burns, tied up francis
author’s note: hellooooo my lovelies !! here is the long awaited fanfic that will hopefully satiate everyone’s preferences from the francis mosses poll yesterday (so i'm a pathalogical liar bc the way this was just sub! francis...) i plan to write many, many more sub! francis content because i cannot imagine him any other way. hope you guys enjoy this :) not proofread, minors please dni !!
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“hhGHK-”
“can’t hear you that well down there, francie. speak up f’me?” you smile devlishly, tilting your head to look down at your crotch. francis knelt there with brusied knees, sucking your cock, stroking what he couldn’t fit with two hands.
another francis emerged from behind you, chuckling at his dupilcate’s pitiful state. “is that what the francis of this world is really like? a milk delivery man during the day, then a pathetic little whore who chokes on cocks back at home?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“c’mon, use me too. i would never whine like this while suckin’ on that…” his fingers trailed down your v-line to the base of your cock. “i’m different from this loser…” he pouted, placing his chin on your shoulder, giving you a pleading look.
“m-mmnMPFH, g-GHK!” francis moaned, the vibrations shooting through your cock. he was whiny, but that’s what turned you on the most about your desperate little boyfriend.
you chuckled, gripping at his hair to make him look up at you. “don’t forget to look at me while i fuck your throat, francy,” you instructed as he nodded as best as he could with tears pricking his eyes. the look he gave you was so priceless, his mouth stuff full with your fat cock and drool dripping down his chin.
“yeah, but my dirty boy takes my cock the best,” you praised, making doppel frown. you thrusted your cock deep into francis’ throat, hitting the back of his throat every time you made even the slightest movement.
his eyes rolled back at the thickness and length of your cock, as he exhaled through his nose heavily. he felt his hands drifting down to his bulge, humping the carpet underneath.
you noticed, finally knowing what to do with doppel. “actually, i need you to take care of my needy little boy down there…” you shot francis a glare, shaking your head in disappointment. he whimpered at the action, his eyes widening with tears immediately streaming down his cheeks.
you pulled him off your cock, his saliva connecting to the tip. “haagnh…” he mewled out, his tongue still stuck out, waiting for a sweet treat. “c-cum on my tongue, please…” he begged, placing the tip of your cock on his tongue.
“such a needy boy. always wanting more than what you’re given, huh?” you tutted, grabbing your middle of your cock to tap it roughly on his tongue. he could only moan, feeling his hips shake in anticipating.
“that’s why i have him. to help me discipline you,” you pulled at doppel’s bow to tug him closer, untying it in the process. “c’mere francie. up on my lap,” you patted your lap, holding a hand out for him to get up.
he followed suit, stumbling over his feet a bit, but ultimately sitting on your lap with his back pressed against your chest. his cock was aching in his stupidly tight pants, begging to be let free. his face flushed at the sight of a very different, yet similar version of himself in front of him.
“doppel, c’mere sit on francie’s thigh,” you motioned him over, straightface. you, on the otherhand, begun to tie francis’ wrists above his head with the tie you had previously acquired. doppel obediently followed your instructions, sitting on one of francis’ spread thighs.
“w-what’re we doing?” francis stuttered, feeling exposed despite being fully clothed.
your arms looped around his body, rubbing his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. he jolted. “just punishing you,” you smiled, giving doppel a look. he quickly caught on, unzipping francis’ pants, palming him through his underwear.
your pointer finger tickled at his sensitive nub, while the other hand pinched at his already hardened nipple. francis’ weak spot was his nipples. the way he reacted when you even grazed his nipples made you want to bend him over a bucket and squeeze them until milk came out.
“o-oooH! hnnghh…w-why through my s-shirt?” he whimpered, jutting out his wet lower lip.
you gave him no response, flicking at his buds with your nails, making his arch his back. “gHK! y-you’re too, mnGHHK, rough!” he exclaimed, his brows furrowing. you loved to twist and tug at his nipples.
it was his fault for wearing such a tight uniform shirt. he was just asking to have you toy with his neglected buds that always poked out from the slightly nudge from the shirt fabric. your hands grope his chest, fingers rubbing over them quickly.
doppel wasn’t neglecting francis’ cock either. he was playing lazily with the wet spot on francis’ underwear that leaked pre-cum. it stuck to his pointer finger when he dragged it away, making doppel chuckle at his copy’s sensitivity.
“feel good, francie? squirmin’ so much, hm?” you placed your chin on his shoulder, watching the way his lips shaped into an “o”, mewling at the way you played with his perky nipples. you’d tug on one, flicking the other one quickly.
“g-good, HNGH, o-oghhh...s-so gnhh…” he could barely get a word out, lewd noises just falling out of his lips. you stopped teasing his nipples before slowly unbuttoning his uniform shirt.
doppel wasn’t taking francis seriously, stroking at a pace he thought was slow, but inhumanely too quick for francis. “human dicks are so small. you pleasing anyone with this tiny little guy, huh?” he teased, making eye contact with francis. “oh look, more pre-cum spilled out!”
francis felt how wet his cock was getting, covered in dopel’s spit and his own pre-cum. when he thought he only had to focus on doppel, your hands came back to grope at his chest. you could now visibly see the pink plushness of his nipples.
“looks like something might come out if i squeeze hard enough, right francie?” you whispered in his ear, rolling your fingers around the bud.
“same thing on my end,” doppel chimed in, rubbing his thumb over francis’ slit.
francis shivered at the thought, feeling his high come at lightning speed. the way the tips of your fingers would flick at his nipples combined with doppel’s inhumane strokes made the poor boy explode.
“ooonghhh, ‘m c-cumming soon, mmngh! HGK! c-cumming!” he bursted into doppel’s palm, collapsing into your arms. your movement slowed slightly, but you continued to flick at the tips of his nipples.
doppel took note of this, playing with the slit of his dick, playing with the foreskin. “human stamina is so pathetic. surely you’re not done now?” doppel leaned down, lapping francis’ cum with his monstrous cum.
“UGHK? i-i jus’, hic, came…hnnn…” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling his aching tip burn. regardless of his pleads, he still rutting his cock into doppel’s mouth for additional friction.
“show me what your pretty chest looks like now, francie,” you ordered, as he puffed out his chest for you to see properly over his chest. you hummed deciding to untie him so he could give you a real show.
his wrists were red from shaking against the restraints so you pressed chaste kisses against the burns. “that’s not how you show me, is it?” he shook his head, shaking from the way doppel was sucking his dick.
francis’ fingers stretched the skin around his nipples, properly showing you the puffiness of his teased buds. he looked up at you with his fingers strewn across his chest with a teary-eyed expression.
“such a perfect boy f’me,” you praised, ruffling his locks. “so good that you can take another hour of teasing before taking my cock, right?” you grinned, your hands finding their rightful spot on his chest.
‘e-EUGH! yesyesyes…i can take it, hngh!” he nodded furiously, his hips shaking like a dog in heat.
“good boy,” you nodded, sticking your fingers into his already open mouth. you and doppel had a long night ahead of you.
taglist: @lordragamuffin
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