#if you’re not caught up you don’t get to speak.

[toruslvt]

HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA

⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.

⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.

a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.

after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?

“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.

Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”

“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”

you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.

“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”

ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”

you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”

a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”

a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”

“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”

you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.

you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”

and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.

“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”

“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.

one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.

“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.

soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.

Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.

it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.

your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.

“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.

a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.

“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.

“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”

but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”

his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.

“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.

he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”

#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #anime smut #smut #x reader #x reader smut

[murdrdocs]

masturbation mention; handjobs; college!art; fem!reader; no spoilers MDNI 18+ w/ ART DOANLDSON

when art donaldson gets a boner, it's nearly impossible for it to go down. he's tried everything in the book. well, everything in patrick's book—taking a cold shower, thinking about his grandmother in her underwear, changing his position. but nothing has ever worked, leaving him to excuse himself at inconvenient times so he could fist his cock until he was satisfied.

but being here with you, art can't do that. he's already flaked on your study sessions one too many times and he really, really doesn't want to have to flake again. for a reason as trivial and embarrassing as a boner at that.

he really didn't mean for it to happen. but he just happens to be in your space, surrounded by your trinkets, watching you move around in a pair of shorts that reminded him of the pair tashi wore that night. which got him thinking about the situation he was in just a year ago. which made him imagine you and him in a situation similar, perhaps even with tashi and patrick there.

you're speaking to him. your hands are moving in patterns that art should recognize, and you're lips are moving, too. but he's distant. distracted.

he blinks twice, shaking the overgrown blond curls out of his face as he fixes his gaze on you again.

"'m ... i'm sorry. what were you saying?"

you drop your hands and place them in your lap. you look disappointed.

"dude. i'm really trying to pass this midterm."

art drops his head. he initially does it in an act of shame, but then he notices your hands resting along your glistening skin and he's suddenly made aware of his boner once more. he groans, resting his elbows into the decorative pillow covering his lap as he covers his face with his hands.

"i know, i know. i'm really, really sorry." he sniffs, straightens up, and focuses all of his attention on studying with you. but now it's you who's distracted.

you tilt your head and eye him up and down. art, worrying that you might have fucking x-ray vision or something, adjusts the way he’s sitting. he thinks he's being casual, but then he clears his throat and looks off to the side and he can hear your small 'oh'.

“haven’t tried thinking about your grandmother?”

art, embarrassed at having been caught, says nothing.

“want me to help you out?” you offer. you say it like a joke, so art laughs. but then you don’t laugh, too.

you’re staring at him, a small smile on your lips as you push your weight into your hands behind you. the twin XL bed can only allow so much room, so even as you’re leaning away from him art feels like you’re right there.

“you’re joking, right?”

you take a second, and then you shake your head.

and that’s how art ends up digging his hands into your sheets as he watches your hand glide over his cock through heavy eyes.

you’re sitting with your feet tucked under your butt, one hand scratching through art’s hair and the other working on his cock.

art’s free hand is pressing into the line of skin between your top and shorts.

you’re doing so well, making him feel so good, but you still ask for confirmation through a low voice.

“does this feel good?”

and your face is so much closer to him than he thought. your voice is right next to his ear. it travels down through him, making even more blood rush to his cock if even possible.

art nods, tearing his eyes away from your hand wrapped around his cock to look at you. but you’re already looking at him, your hand pulling on a loose curl of his while you smile. art smiles back, just before you pull him closer and press your lips to his.

kissing distracts you, so art takes over. he shifts his cock up into your hand, doing the work for you. he circles his hand around your back and pulls you closer until he can feel your breasts pushing against his arm through your shirt. whatever bra you’re wearing must be thin, because art can feel your nipples poking him.

he means to warn you. he wants to let you know before it happens. but you regain some of your focus and your thumb presses into his tip, and he’s thinking about how you told him he had a pretty dick, and he can feel your tits and suddenly his hips are lifting and cock is twitching and he’s cumming all over your hand and his thighs.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #challengers smut #celeste writes challengers

[concreteangel92]

Be careful what you wish for

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Cum play, mentions of spanking, dom/sub relationship, slight humiliation kink and degradation kink (not too heavy) male masturbation, just Noah being a typical brat tamer

So this is kinda filthy even for me ahaha but it’s not massively detailed as it’s a head canon styled piece but I am working on proper detailed works as we speak so hopefully I will get those out soon.

This actually started as an idea from the other fic I’m writing but it didn’t fit into that scene properly so I decided to make it a separate piece so the thought wasn’t wasted haha and fyi the story I’m currently writing has definitely been inspired by the new tour content, that’s absolutely feeding me right now 🥵

•You’ve been playing up all day and winding Noah up in front of people when he’s been working

•Just genuinely being a brat because you found it funny that day

•That’s fine but Noah would 100% punish you for it when you’re alone

•You’d be face down on the counter, underwear round your ankles while counting each spank he delivers

•But what’s one more dig?

•”That the best punishment you got? I’m getting bored of it now”

•Those spanks would instantly stop

•”Is that so?”

•Oh yeah, he’s pissed now

•You’d feel Noah’s grip on your hip tighten and hear the sounds of his trousers hitting the ground

•”Spread your legs”

•Noah would have a deeper growl in his voice, clearly not impressed with your attitude, but that’s ok, he’s happy to take it up a notch just teach you a lesson

•You’d feel his fingers scissor you open with a dark chuckle “bored are we? Do you want to tell that to your dripping cunt”

•That would most definitely pull a low moan from you, now Noah loves dirty talk, but to be that vulgar is very rare, even for him

•You could feel movement behind you and hear the sounds of him groaning and skin slapping on skin

•”So my punishments aren’t good enough eh?…” You could hear his words get caught in his throat, you knew he was touching himself behind you, his other hand now not leaving your hip

•”Well lucky for you…shit….I’ve got the perfect punishment for your cocky little attitude”

•You’d keep your head on the counter, pussy aching to be touched but you know that’s not going to happen any time soon

•“Did I forget to mention….that the guys will be here…any….any minute for the afternoon?”

•Noah hadn’t mentioned that they were all coming round for a gaming afternoon, you suddenly felt a sense of fear at what he had planned

•Noah’s groans became louder as he sped up his pace, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer

•”fuck..I’m gonna cum”

•You’d feel him release onto your heated core, Noah would quickly bring your underwear back up and press the material into your folds, making sure not to let any of his juices slip out down your thighs

•You’re eyes would go wide, a choked moan escaping your lips as you now knew what his punishment was, it felt so wrong and dirty but fuck me were you turned on

•You’d hear Noah fix his clothes and then he’d grab you by your throat, bringing your back onto his chest so he could talk into your ear

•”let’s see how cocky you are walking round with my cum in your pants, and don’t think you can run away and hide baby. You’re going to sit with us until I say otherwise, is that clear?”

•”I’m in a dress, what if it…slips out?”

•You’d receive a hard smack to your ass and then Noah turned you around so he could stare down at you

•”You should have thought about that before you decided to be a brat and telling me that my punishments are boring”

•Noah grips your chin and gives you a hard kiss

•”Be careful what you wish for baby”

•That’s the moment you’d both hear keys in the door and the guys walking in with pizza boxes, Noah pulling your dress back into place and stepping away from you

•You’d do your best to walk normally and act all innocent when everyone started chatting, trying to sit without anything ‘leaking’

•Your cheeks would have a permanent blush for the afternoon

•All the while, that cocky smirk never left Noah’s lips as he stalked your every move

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #dom noah #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah bad omens

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵

⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🔵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.

It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.

But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.

He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like we all know the answer to this one.

Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.

If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).

He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.

Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.

Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.

He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.

Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.

He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.

BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.

Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.

Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.

Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.

Other specific places?

The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.

He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.

#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.

#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.

Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.

Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?

Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.

He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.

Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.

On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.

Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.

Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.

The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.

That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.

So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…

And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.

There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.

Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.

Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.

He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 

Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.

Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.

Look at him.

Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?

Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.

“Dick is quick and agile."

"He’s lightweight on his feet."

"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”

Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.

More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.

I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.alphabet #☀️🪽.hcs #☀️🪽.explicit #☀️🪽.txt #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader

[discordantwritings]

Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex

WC: 3.3k

Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.

The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional

Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.

Tagging: @keiva1000

Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.

Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.

Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.

“Doctor-“

“How bad.”

“It’s Mihawk.”

That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”

“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.

You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.

“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.

You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”

“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.

There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”

You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.

“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.

You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”

“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.

“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”

You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.

All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.

“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.

“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“

He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”

Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“

“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.

“You have my word.”

“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”

It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”

His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.

“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”

Oh.

That would certainly explain a few things.

You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…

“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“What else.”

“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.

“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”

“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”

You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”

That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.

“I would help you.”

You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?

Beyond wildly inappropriate.

“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.

“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.

Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.

Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”

“Last chance.”

The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“

The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.

The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.

You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.

“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.

“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.

The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.

Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.

“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”

You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.

“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.

“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.

Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.

“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.

Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.

You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.

“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.

You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.

Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.

“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”

There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”

When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.

“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.

“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.

“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.

“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.

Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.

“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.

“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”

He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.

“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.

There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.

“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“

Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.

“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.

When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”

“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”

The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.

“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.

“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #discordantwritings

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man

A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!

Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.

Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.

Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.

The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.

This was not that man.

This man was vengeance personified.

And through him, you felt hope.

You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.

He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.

Now, it seems he walks with purpose.

He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.

You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.

You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”

He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.

His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.

You tilt your head. “The shirt?”

He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”

“Your name?”

His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.

You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.

To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Several days pass until you have another full conversation.

You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.

Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.

You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.

He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.

But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.

You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”

He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.

“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”

The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.

The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.

You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’

Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.

“I’m sorry for the bother.”

He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”

You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”

That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”

“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”

This earns you another bout of silence.

 For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.

Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”

“Ever since I could remember.”  You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”

“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.

“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”

A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”

And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.

Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘

“I know.”

That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.

 You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”

He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”

You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.

He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.

 It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.

It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.

Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.

The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.

But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.

A recollection plays in your head of last night.

It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.

He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.

For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.

The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.

You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.

The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.

His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.

You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.

But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.

He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.

And then a scream erupts in your ears.

Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.

When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.

Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.

They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.

It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.

Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.

But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.

And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you���ve put your faith into the right person.

He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.

He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”

You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”

He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”

He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”

You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.

It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.

Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.  

And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.

Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”

He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.

Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.

You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”

There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

- - - - - -

When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.

His presence overflows through your every pore.

Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.

It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.

They want retribution.

- - - - - -

A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol

#fanfic #x reader #smut #dev patel #fanfiction #fluff #monkey man #monkey man 2024 #monkey man spoilers #the kid #y/n #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man fanfic #the kid x reader #angst #retribution

[dark-frosted-heart]

From a Mean Lie, Love Begins - Roger Barel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Secondhand embarrassment ahead.

After finishing dinner, I had some free time and so I decided to help Roger with his research.

As I descended the stairs leading to the basement like usual, I heard two people talking and stopped in my tracks.

(Roger and…Harrison?)

Their expressions were so serious that I couldn’t find the right time to call out to them.

Harrison: …In such a bad shape?

Roger: Yeah. Heard from experts that it can’t be returned to its original state. Spine’s so wrecked and can’t stand without support.

Harrison: So caught up in research that you can’t even take care of yourself. What a laugh. …Could’ve done something about it if it was caught sooner.

(What does he mean…? Roger, are you in such a bad state that you can’t stand…?)

He looked fine last night while happily drinking.

(But…there are some illnesses out there that are invisible)

(Was he self-destructing by drinking so much because he couldn’t save himself…?)

Roger: Well, I’ll see what I can do for now. I got a reputation of not being a quitter. Just gotta hang in there ‘til the end. If you can’t…then we’ll deal with it when the time comes.

As I secretly peeped at them, I saw Roger give a weak smile.

(Roger’s body really is wrecked…)

(He couldn’t have been lying if Harrison’s there…)

I couldn’t bring myself to say anything and quietly left before they could notice.

–

(I wasn’t aware that Roger’s condition was that bad…)

(But now that I know…I can change my behavior)

(Tomorrow, I’ll do my best to support Roger so that he doesn’t suffer)

The day after learning about Roger’s condition, I secretly made a decision. I’ll immediately start helping him out.

–

Kate: Here, Roger. Open your mouth please.

After cutting the meat on the plate into bite-sized pieces, I held it up to Roger’s mouth.

Roger: …? I can eat by myself, lil’ lady.

Kate: Please don’t overwork yourself! I’ll be supporting you throughout your life! 

Roger: The hell’s gotten into you?

Roger tried to stand up with a puzzled look on his face, and I rushed to stop him.

Kate: Ah, please don’t force yourself to stand!

Roger: I just wanna get a drink…

Kate: I’ll get it for you!

I stood up instead and got Roger a glass of water.

Kate: Here you go Roger.

Roger: Thanks…

Alfons: Good grief…Stop worrying about that muscle-headed, research-obsessed idiot and feed me, little robin?

Kate: …You’re feeling fine, aren’t you Alfons? You don’t need help, do you?

Alfons: I’m certainly feeling rather energized this morning, however…

With the way you’re speaking…You make it sound as if Roger’s not well.

Kate: …

I became depressed as I thought back to yesterday’s conversation.

Roger: …Lil’ lady?

Kate: I heard it yesterday. The conversation between you and Harrison… That your body was so wrecked that you couldn’t stand…!

Roger: Hm? That’s…

Alfons: Oh? I knew you wouldn’t live long but is it finally time to kick the bucket?

Roger: …

At the question, Roger exchanged glances with Harrison and then let out a sigh.

Roger: …Everyone’s gonna wind up six feet under eventually. It just depends on when.

(If you’re not denying it, then it’s true…?)

Kate: Please don’t talk about giving up like that…! I may not understand your condition, but I’ll be supporting you from today onward!

Roger: That’s helpful. Well I got some research I’d like you to help me with now…

Kate: Please leave it to me!

–

I was helping Roger out with his research like he’d asked and it was approaching midnight.

Roger: It’s getting late. Why don’t you get back to your room, lil’ lady?

Kate: What about you?

Roger: …I’ll get some rest too.

Kate: Liar. You’re going to keep working, aren’t you?

When I glared at Roger for that impromptu lie, he just shrugged.

Roger: …I got some interesting data so I wanna work on it for a bit longer.

Kate: It’s not like the data’s going anywhere tomorrow and the numbers won’t change. Take it easy and look after yourself.

I forced Roger out of his chair and onto an infirmary bed.

Roger: Are you planning on helping me not just today, but the next day onward too?

Kate: Yes. I’m worried about your health so that’s my intention.

Roger: Heh, your thoughts never fail to surprise me. You’d agree to anything I’d ask you right now, wouldn’t you?

Kate: Is there anything else you want me to do?!

Roger asked me to help with his research today, but…that’s just an extension of how I usually help him.

(If I could do anything for Roger since he’s not physically well…I’d do it)

Roger: Yeah…How about this. Kiss me. Roger grabbed my hand as he sat up in bed.

(Why a kiss…ah)

(If you don’t feel well, then you’ll feel even more lonely or hopeless…)

No doubt the kiss wouldn’t have any special feeling behind it…rather, it’d  just be some physical contact to fill the loneliness.

(Roger’s selfishly kissed me numerous times before)

(No point in rejecting him at this point)

(More importantly, I’d like to help Roger when I can…)

Because I’m standing, I don’t have to go on my tiptoes to kiss him today.

To keep it from getting in the way,I tucked my hair behind my ear with the hand not being held by Roger.

Kate: Nn…

I gave Roger a light peck.

Though it was just a brief, I filled Roger’s heart with all the compassion I could muster.

Roger: Ha…it’s still not enough.

Roger tugged hard on the hand he was holding.

Kate: …Oof

Roger was pushed down onto the bed as he pulled me toward him.

Kate: A-are you alright?! Does it hurt anywhere?

Roger: Nothing hurts so just leave it. That aside, do it again.

Kate: …

At his begging, I pushed Roger down and kissed him again.

This time, his hand went up to the back of my head to keep me from pulling away too soon.

Kate: Nn…haaa…

Roger’s tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine.

Breathtaking kisses were something Roger had shown me.

(I don’t know how many more kisses like this I’ll get…)

The thought of it made my heart ache…I continued to kiss Roger to make him happy.

Roger: …You’d really do anything, wouldn’t you?

Roger mumbled as our lips parted.

Roger: Do you do this with anyone you know is weak…?

(I tried to imagine it but…it’d be difficult to do this with anyone but Roger)

(Roger’s touched me before, so it’s a different set of obstacles from others…I think)

Kate: I think it’s normal to want to do things for someone who’s suffering.

Roger: …If that’s the case, then I can’t just go quietly.

Kate: …Huh?

Roger: Who’ll take care of Crown when I’m gone? They could call in a doctor from the outside, but it’d be hard to respond at my speed. And if that does happen, you’d have a lot of weak men lying around you. Don’t wanna put you in a situation where you’d be compassionate toward weak men besides me.

(Are you saying this to protect me…? But…)

Kate: But even if you say that, your body’s already…

Roger: Ah…Think it’s time I cleared up this misunderstanding.

Kate: Misunderstanding…?

Roger: That conversation you heard between Harrison and me was actually about—

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: …?

Harrison: What’s up?

Roger: Nothing, just heard the lil’ lady’s footsteps…But she turned back.

Harrison: She probably read the air when she saw how serious we looked.

Roger: We weren’t talking about anything important so she could’ve just come in.

Harrison: Not important…Roger, do you really understand the value of this book? It’s a book signed by Edgar Allan Poe and it got ruined by chemicals…! The spine’s falling apart and the chemical’s made the text fade so much it’s unreadable. It couldn’t even stand on its own when I put it on a bookshelf…

Roger: It was a gift, but I got so caught up in my research that I got careless.

Harrison: *sigh*...This is why people only interested in research are nothing but trouble.

~~ End flashback ~~

Roger: So…It wasn’t me that got wrecked but a book.

Kate: Really…?

Roger: Yeah, really. As you can see, I’m healthy as a horse. Sorry for playing around with you without clearing it up right away. Thought it’d be a good excuse to get you to help with some research. I’ll take all your complaints.

Kate: Y-you’re the worst!!

With a singular curse, I ran out and to my room.

After closing the door, I collapsed on the spot.

Kate: That’s a relief… At least Roger isn’t dying…!

Feeling relieved, uncontrollable feelings spilled out in the form of tears.

I ran from Roger because I didn’t want him to see me cry. 

Roger’s voice: …Lil’ lady.

Roger’s voice could be heard from out in the hallway.

Kate: W-what is it? I’m mad at you right now…!

Roger’s voice: I wanna apologize, so open the door.

Kate: Don’t want to…

Roger’s voice: That so. …With the lie I told, I don’t blame you.

I thought Roger would give up once I refused him, but he showed no signs of leaving.

Kate: Um…You’re not going back to your room?

Roger: I’m gonna wait ‘til you open the door for me.

(If you say that, then i have no choice but to open the door…)

I wiped my eyes and opened the door.

Roger: …

Kate: D-did you by chance…hear anything when I came back to my room?

Roger’s curse gave him supernatural hearing.

“At least Roger isn’t dying…”

If he heard me say that as I cried, then my angry act would be all for nothing.

Roger: No? Didn’t hear anything. Anyway, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that misunderstanding about my life go that far.

Kate: … …You said you lied to get me to help you. So why the kiss?

Roger: You were worrying so much over taking care of me that it was endearing. I wanted to dote on you.

Kate: That wasn’t doting?! I’d call that making things difficult for me!

Roger: Really? I always thought you enjoyed the kisses. If I got the wrong idea then sorry. Let’s try again to be sure.

Kate: Why are you always taking things in that direction!  Do you even actually feel sorry at all?

Roger: I think so…Sorry.

Roger’s sudden, touching apology distracted me from my anger.

Roger: I won’t lie to you anymore. If me living longer makes you happy, then I’ll do just that.

Kate: I-I knew it. You did hear what I said when I got back to my room!

Roger: Whoops, that’s right. I didn’t hear a thing.

Kate: If you’re going to lie, then go through with it…!

Roger: Pfft…Haha.

Kate: …What are you laughing at?

Roger: Though I love how you look when you cry, I think I also love the way you yell with so much energy. Sorry for worrying you the whole day.

Roger roughly patted my head.

As I begrudgingly looked up at him, I realized that my heart was racing again.

(Roger already heard me say that I was relieved that he wasn’t going to die, but…)

(...I hope he doesn’t notice the sound of my heart racing as he pats my head)

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

[aikatoru]

Nanami has never been very good with his words, he never takes himself as a smooth talker.

Hell it took him a year just to work up the courage to finally talk to you and even then it was at the coffeehouse and all he said was a lame, “Excuse me but could you pass the sugar?”

He doesn’t know how but that encounter led to a conversation and then a date and eventually a relationship, and that’s where you guys are now.

Nanami was happy and pretty pleased with himself, he considered himself lucky to be able to get the girl of his dreams. He’s seen you date richer and more popular guys before him, so it was nice to know that you’d pick him over them.

But perhaps he was speaking too soon cause he caught you talking to one of your exes outside of the shop he was in, and you seemed way too friendly with the other guy for his liking. He quickly paid for his items and rushed out to find you alone and your ex leaving.

“Was that your ex?” He asked, looking at you.

“Oh yeah, he was in the area and came by to say hi,” you explained way too calmly.

He nodded curtly, “I see.”

And somehow you noticed his irritation, “Are you okay? You seem a little tense.”

He sighs and finally admits, “I don’t like seeing you with any of your exes.”

You giggled, “Aww are you jealous Nanami?”

“Yes.” He answered simply, matter of factly.

You blinked once, twice, a little taken aback by his quick response.

“Oh…ok then…I won’t talk to him again then.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and thanked you.

“But just want to let you know that it was nice talking to a guy who sees me for once…” you spoke.

He raised an eyebrow, “you think I don’t see you?”

Your lips were pursed into a pout as you shrugged, “You’re always at work most days and always on your phone when you get home…it wouldn’t hurt for you to say you love me every now and then.”

He couldn’t believe his ears, had he really been so cruel as to make you question his loyalty, his devotion to you?

He breaks into a smile when he finally realizes what you want and so he takes you into his arms before speaking.

“For as long as I can remember, I have always craved to be the one to make you smile, wipe the tears from your face from when you’re sad, tug the loose strands of your hair behind your ear…for as long as I’ve seen you, I have always wondered what it was like to hold your hand, to hold you close and to kiss those gorgeous lips of yours…so rest assured that you my dear are truly and irrefutably loved by me.”

He confesses so seriously that you can’t help but start smiling and giggling.

“Gosh Nanami you’re so dramatic.”

#aika writes 🤍 #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #nanami fluff #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #jujutsu kento #kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

[pinkaditty]

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #minors dni #rook twst #rook x reader #twst rook #rook hunt #rook twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twisted wonderland #rook hunt twst #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt smut #twst #rook hunt x mc

[stxrslut]

john b made sure to never get angry at you. but sometimes it was just unavoidable.

even you can admit that you’ve been a brat all day long. whining and moaning about every other inconvenience, slowing things down by purposefully getting them wrong, being snarky, and foremost, teasing the absolute hell out of your boyfriend.

so it was no surprise to you, that the moment you get home, you’re being folded over his lap and spanked hard enough to send you right into that little subspacey haze that you and John b both love so much.

but right now, John b isn’t being sweet, he’s being mean, because he’s mad. because you made him mad. you assume that the harsh slaps to your ass are the only punishment you’ll receive. so when he lifts you up you go to curl into his chest.

he tsks “not yet baby, gotta finish what you started.” you don’t quite understand what he means until he’s lowering you to your knees in front of him and undoing his pants to reveal his already hardened dick. “why don’t you take care of this, huh?” his voice reeks of casual annoyance and dominance. he leaves no room for argument.

so you get to work, at first just suckling and kissing at the tip and jerking the rest of him with your hands. and then beginning to take him further, at your own pace.

your boyfriend lets this happen for a couple of minutes, to build a false sense of security. but the moment he begins to get impatient, he pushes your head down so that your nose is buried in the small bush of dark curly hair that surrounds the bottom of his shaft. “yeah, just take it, good girl.” he chuckles nearly sadistically as you gag harshly around him.

he doesn’t let you go, not much at least, maybe once every minute or so to let you take a proper breath. it’s the fourth time that he’s pushing you down when it gets messy.

you can feel it coming before you’ve even taken all of him in, the bile that’s rising quickly up your throat. you frantically try to pull away, to avoid the pure humiliation that you know is about to come.

you whimper as he bucks his hips up, desperately trying to preserve your dignity. he’s clearly caught on. he leans down to speak to you, a smirk corrupting his usually sweet face, “s’okay sweetie, you can let it out. you know daddy won’t mind.”

that’s what pushes you over the edge, that’s what has you immediately choking up your lunch whilst still having him buried to the hilt in your throat.

tears stream down your face as you try to keep any more from coming up, but it’s far too late already, you’ve been set off, and all there is for you to do is finish.

you keep him in your mouth, at some point during the ordeal feeling the warm ropes of his cum slide down your throat.

John b pulls you off of him after that, lifting you onto your feet and standing himself. “had to make all this mess just to teach you a lesson, gonna have to think twice about bein’ such a little priss in the future aren’t ya?”

#john b prompt #cw vomit #john b dialogue #john b concept #john b blurb #john b outer banks #john b smut #john b #john b x reader #john b routledge #outer banks smut

[dark-mnjiro]

speaking in tongues ::: .02.

Author’s Note: hello everyone. I apologize for such a long wait. Personal things (as some of you may know) have had to take priority like my health. I had to put a lot of projects on hold. I do hope you enjoy part two. I attempted to make it a bit longer than the others that I’ve put out to make up for it. 🥰 as usual, please refer to the masterlist for a general list of content warning for this fic, and I will post part specific below.

Content Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, dubcon, dub/noncon touching, fingering, groping, invasion of privacy, violence, mentions of trauma/sexual abuse/physical abuse, bratty!cashmere, cat and mouse games, gaslighting, emotional manipulation… fun stuff.

part two

i’m standing here until you make me move

Snapping his fingers, a golden portal appeared behind Adam before he stepped through it still carrying Cashmere. She took her fists, pounding his back, demanding still to be put down. Adam only seemed to offer a mocking reply by raising his voice an octave and mimicking her comments. This only seemed to enrage Cashmere more as she began kicking her legs and intensifying her hits to his back.

“Fucking hell!” he snapped at her.

“Satan in Hell,” she snapped. “Put me DOWN!”

Adam tossed her onto the couch. He pulled off his mask, throwing it to the floor before walking away from her. “Don’t fucking say I didn’t do anything for you,” he complained, loudly as he walked into the other room.

Cashmere sighed, moving her fingers through her hair. She looked around… Where was she? It looked like a fairly average apartment that any living person would have, but not one in Hell. A loud slurp disrupted her thoughts as she turned to look at Adam, standing in the entryway with a drink in hand… drinking loudly.

“Where are we?”

Adam pulled the straw from his lips before leaning against the wall. “My place.”

“In Heaven?”

“Fuck no,” Adam scoffed. “I wouldn’t bring demonic scum like you to that paradise.”

Rolling her eyes, Cashmere pushed up from the couch to sit up. “You have an apartment in Hell?”

“Embassy,” he corrected. “It’s my temporary place.”

“So why here?”

Sighing, he set the drink in his hand down on the table in front of the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you enjoy getting assaulted?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What?” he snapped, annoyance crossing his expression. “You sure seemed to like trying to fight a man three times your size who was trying to grope on you.”

“Satan help me,” she groaned. “How long were you there? You saw all that?!”

“I told you,” he replied as his voice went flat. “Long enough.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh of frustration. She stood up from the couch and decided that she would just leave before she was caught in another argument with this man…angel? Whatever. She tried to move past him before his arm shot out and stopped her from passing him.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Fuck you,” she said, shoving his arm down.

“You got a filthy, fucking mouth on you,” he sneered.

“Fuck. You.”

She managed to push past him but didn’t make it far before Adam snatched her by her hair and tugged her back. She yelped as tears burned at the corner of her eyes.

“Do I have your attention now?”

He was uncomfortably close to her now as his breath brushed against her ear. She tried moving away but he only tugged harder causing her scalp to burn.

“Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”

Her face fell. “…yes.”

He tugged on her hair again, causing her to wince. “I don’t believe you,” he hissed into her ear. His free hand slipped to grasp her waistline before forcefully guiding her toward the wall of his apartment. The grip tightened as he pressed his chest against her back, forcing her chest to push against the wall. Cashmere turned her head to the side, catching a glimpse of Adam smirking from behind her. “I’ll ask again,” he whispered. “Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”

She wasn’t sure what he was asking as a response. Her eyes darted away toward the white wall. Anything to avoid his gaze at this point. Anxiety began filling her chest, wondering just what she could do in this instance, against an Angel? Nothing. He could kill her easily if he truly wanted to… and permanently. It was a well-known fact that Angelic steel could permanently rid Hell of any sinner.

Adam’s other hand finally let go of her hair, but it joined his other hand gripping her waist. He used his size alone to pin her against the wall now. She was stuck. Squirming, she attempted to slither her way out from him and the wall, but it only seemed to cause him to tighten his grip.

“I want to hear you say it.”

She scoffed. “Say what?”

“That you’re going to be a good girl and listen.”

Cashmere cursed under her breath before scowling at Adam. “I’m not indulging in your sick fantasy.”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me,” he teased. “So don’t flatter yourself.”

Offense flashed over her eyes almost as if she took what he said as a challenge. Couldn’t handle him? Was he joking? She glanced at him over her shoulder, shooting a deadly glare at the sick smirk he wore on his face. His golden eyes were still fixed on her as he moved impossibly close.

“Say it.”

“...no.”

Chuckling, Adam’s hands moved further down before squeezing her hips. “All you women are the same,” he commented. “Fucking little, bratty teases.”

“I-” she paused. “I’m not teasing.”

Remaining silent, Adam’s hands slipped past the edge of her skirt before toying with the fabric. Her breath quickened as his fingertips brushed against her bare thighs. Goosebumps spread across her skin before Adam chuckled. His fingertips moved up her thigh, slipping under her skirt.

“L-let go,” she hissed, trying to squirm away.

“No.”

She didn’t understand what his end goal was. He couldn’t possibly want such a filthy sinner. Not after all the insults he seemed to hurl her way. His hands brushed against her panties as they slipped under the elastic. Excitement blossomed in her chest and she hated her body for practically begging to be touched.

His hands slipped her underwear about midway down her legs. “Tell me you want it,” he whispered as his left moved between her legs and brushed his knee against her bare core.

A strangled gasp moved past her lips. Her mind went fuzzy. “But,” she whispered. “I’m a sinner.”

“I’m already in Heaven,” Adam snorted. “I can fuck whatever pussy I want.”

Satan’s left tit, he was going to go through with this… Cashmere felt another jolt of excitement shudder throughout her body, cursing herself for almost enjoying this… almost.

“Let's see,” he whispered, his lips against her ear. “What gets you going…”

One hand slipped between her legs as the other moved up to grope her breast. He pinched her clit between his fingers causing her to gasp again. He slowly slipped two fingers against her dripping core, making sure both fingers were coated in her juices.

She squirmed at his touch as soft pants left her lips. Her voice stuttered, “A-Adam…”

He hummed in response before plunging his two coated fingers into her. Her body tensed for a moment before adjusting quickly. He nipped at her ear as he curled her fingers against her, forcing her to clench. A gasp left her lips, bracing herself against the wall.

The rough pads of his fingers probably formed from years of playing guitar only gave way to delicious friction as she felt her juices slip down her legs. Her body squirmed as her legs clenched.

Adam tutted. “Nah uh,” he teased, using his knee to keep her legs apart.

His pace intensified.

“A-Adam,” she managed to say between breathy pants.

His tone mocked her voice as he increased his pace. The coil in her gut was winding tighter as she felt the palm of his hand press against her clit, causing her to moan again. Wetness pooled in his palm before his fingers were scissored inside of her.

“You wanna cum?” he whispered into her ear.

He suddenly slowed to a tormenting pace. “Adam please.”

“Use your words.”

She wanted to glare at him but her body wouldn’t allow her to move before tried to move her hips against his hand. His free hand managed to find its way back to her hair and yanked her head back. A pained yelp left her lips but she stilled her movements.

“Please,” she managed to get out in a desperate tone. “…please let me cum, Adam…

An audible groan left his lips before the pace of his fingers became unrelenting. Cries of his name tumbled from her lips as her legs began quaking. How such a Holy man’s touch could be so sinful, Cashmere could not understand.

She cried out his name one last time before pleasure electrified her skin and spread throughout her body. Her legs shook again, losing their strength so Adam had to keep her on her feet. He slowly removed his fingers before she felt her juices dripping down her legs.

He chuckled before taking his two fingers and forcing them into her mouth. “Be a good girl,” he teased. “And clean the mess you made.”

For a brief moment, Cashmere sputtered, struggling for air before quickly adjusting. Her tongue circled his fingers, tasting herself on them. A soft moan managed past her lips before he removed his fingers.

Adam pulled away, letting her stumble a bit but managed to steady herself against the wall.

Quickly, Cashmere pulled up her underwear and readjusted her skirt. Words failed her. Her eyes darted up to him before falling back to the floor. What could she say? It’s not like anyone would believe this happened. “…I should go home.”

Confusion filled his golden hues. “What the fuck? Why?”

“…this never should’ve happened.”

“Are you saying you didn’t want it now because you sure changed your mind fast—”

She closed her eyes in frustration. “You’re an Angel, Adam.”

“…so what? I can fuck whoever I want,” he said.

“I’m a demon, you idiot.”

“I’m not following,” Adam countered. “What part of I fuck whoever I want, don’t you understand?”

Cashmere stared at the Angel in front of her with her mouth agape. Was he serious?

“I-I’m going home.”

He seemed to back down before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Just fucking wait a second,” he said quickly. He took a few steps away from her before raking his fingers through his hair again. “Just stay here. Until you’ve sobered up.”

Confusion filled her face.

“You need to sober up,” he said, shooting a glare in her direction. “Some fucking freak could take advantage-”

“What the fuck do you think you just did?!”

“You didn’t fucking say no,” he snapped back. “You’re just pissed that you fucking enjoyed it.”

Her mouth shut.

He was right.

As disgusting as he was, she hated to admit that she had enjoyed that…

“…where should I stay?”

Adam sighed again before turning and motioning her to follow him. She followed him into a bedroom… it was clear it was his bedroom. Her eyes fell to the floor before Adam tossed a shirt to her. She glared at him briefly before noticing it was a band shirt.

“Wear that. Sleep here. Leave me the fuck alone,” he said before turning to head back into the living room.

Sighing, she waited for Adam to leave before shutting the door and stripping off her clothes. She slipped on the band tee that managed to cover just above her knees. Grimacing, she inspected the bedroom. It was clear he was a bachelor with how messy he was and the trash just strewn about. Sighing, she climbed into the bed and quickly shut the light off.

���Goodnight,” she mumbled mostly to herself.

The screams from the street managed to jar Cashmere awake as she sat up in bed and grimaced. Perhaps she had too much to drink and snort last night. Her head was practically spinning now. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around trying to remember where she was…

“Oh fuck.”

That’s right, Adam had snatched her up and brought her here the night before.

Her fingers pushed the stray strands of hair from her face, straining her ears for any sound, any movement from outside the bedroom. Snoring. He was still asleep. She forced herself out of the bed grabbing her shoes and her clothes. She would have to make a break for it.

Her hand came to the doorknob, slowly turning it and gently pulling the door open. Her eyes caught a glimpse of Adam still snoring from the couch before sneaking to his front door and silently slipping out of his apartment. A sigh fell from her lips, relieved she escaped without being detected.

“I’m going home.”

She pulled out her cell phone and saw a slew of texts from Cherrybomb and Angeldust. She responded to the group chat that she was fine and heading home and she would explain later.

Cashmere managed to make it to her apartment before reaching into her purse to grab her apartment key. “Home free,” she told herself, sighing with relief as she started opening the door.

“Bitch!”

Her head shot up as she noticed Angeldust rushing toward her. “…oh no.”

“Where the fuck did you go!”

“Angel - it’s fine I’m just going to go change,” she said, walking into her apartment but he managed to sneak his way past her and into the apartment as well.

He threw himself onto her bed before tilting his head at her. His eyes narrowed before the corner of his lips curled upward.

“Angel…”

“…who was it! Spill it!”

Groaning, she threw her clothes and purse to the floor. “Whatever you’re thinking it’s not true.”

Angeldust scoffed before sitting up on her bed. “That’s not your shirt, babe.”

A lump formed in her throat. Fuck.

“…it was nothing,” she hissed.

“You ran off with some fucker. Him?”

Glaring, she crossed her arms. “I fucking hate how observant you are.”

He shrugged. “A gift! Now tell me.”

“We didn’t fuck. Just screwed around a little,” she replied, shaking her head. “It should’ve never happened. It was a mistake. I was too high to go home so he let me crash. I left before he woke up.”

He looked unimpressed. “That bad?”

“Sure,” she was too frustrated to continue this conversation.

“Whatever you say~”

Rolling her eyes, Cashmere made her way into the bathroom and stripped off Adam’s band t-shirt. She inspected her reflection in the mirror before cutting on the water in the sink and splashing her face with cold water.

A nightmare.

This was just a nightmare.

Her phone began buzzing. A groan left her lips before she snatched up the phone, assuming it was either Cherrybomb calling to tease her or even worse - Valentino to demand she come into the strip club.

“Yeah?”

“Morning to you too, doll face.”

Her face paled.

“How the fuck did you get my number?!”

Adam snorted on the other line. “You’re the stupid ass that left her phone out and unlocked.”

“You went through my phone?!”

“Nice nudes in there by the way.”

How could she even begin to form a response to that? She pinched the bridge of her nose before taking a deep breath to calm her growing irritation.

“I’m not even responding-what do you want, asshole!”

“You fucking left.”

Was this serious? “Of course, I left,” she said, confused. “What were we going to do? Cuddle?”

He scoffed. “I want you to know I was being nice by letting you crash with me after you got fucking high as fuck,” he countered. “And you just leave? No fucking thank you? Nothing!”

This was serious.

Cashmere rubbed her eyes. “Being nice? That’s the bare minimum!”

“You were a fucking cock tease!”

“Tease?!”

“You were fucking putty in my hands,” he hissed. “Couldn’t even return the favor. A fucking tease.”

She couldn’t find her words. The tone of his voice was similar to the night before and sent shivers down her spine. She cursed under her breath. Was this reality?

“Where the fuck did you go?”

A sigh fell from her lips as she tried to center herself. How someone could be this dense, she had no idea… Clicking her tongue, she glanced at her bathroom door and made sure to lower her voice. She could not afford Angeldust finding out she had an Angel on the phone, and not just any Angel - Adam.

“I went home.”

“You didn’t even wake me up.”

“What the fuck were we going to do? Cuddle? Christ, Adam.”

He scoffed on the other line. “Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I can’t do this right now,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I’m taking my shower.”

“Fucking fine,” he said. “Just come to the embassy when you’re done.”

She hung up on him.

She could not handle his bullshit now.

Her phone lit up with a text that said: did you just fucking hang up on me?

Choosing to ignore it, Cashmere turned her attention toward her shower, cutting on the water and making sure the temperature was as hot as she could stand. She slipped off the rest of her clothes before letting her hair down. Stepping in the shower, she let out another breath before stepping under the hot stream of water.

She let the water slip over her head and down her body. The heat offered some relief to her tense muscles. How the fuck had she ended up in this situation? Her fingers raked through her wet hair.

Did she even want to go back to the embassy and face him?

It wasn’t as if she had a choice. He had paid off Valentino, who believed this was some prostitution setup - no questions asked. The entire situation was beginning to weigh on Cashmere as she couldn’t be honest with her two closest friends.

And now?

Now, Adam had managed to worm his way into her pants, or at the very least his fingers between her legs.

Disgust filled her gut. Was she that desperate? Did she make it that easy for him?

She recalled her life when she was alive. While she could not remember everything now that she was dead, she could recall flashes and small glimpses into why she was such a disaster.

Prostitution had kept her off the streets, but at what cost?

She had disgraced her family, despite leaving and joining the profession for the sake of their survival. She had been battered, beaten, and bruised throughout her career by not only “customers” but by police and even other prostitutes.

Over the years, it hardened her. Numbed her.

“Cashmere?”

It was Angeldust, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” She called out over the sound of the shower.

“You good?”

Pausing, her eyes fell to the drain. Was she?

“I’m fine!”

Straining her ears, she heard Angeldust retreat from the door as she slowly cut off the water. Snatching the towel from the rack, she wrapped the plush fabric around her body.

Her phone screen lit up again.

Another message… from Adam.

A sigh fell from her lips before scanning the text. “You can’t fucking ignore me forever?” She scoffed and turned off her phone in response. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

Walking into the embassy, Cashmere finally decided to turn her phone back on. She awoke to several messages to log her up on her phone from the night before - and she was right. A flood of messages from Adam filled her phone, a weird mixture of gaslighting and compliments and a sprinkle of disgust was an ongoing theme in each message.

She mumbled “idiot” under her breath before she reached his office and raised a hand to knock. But the door swung open.

She halfway expected him as she opened her mouth with a quip but quickly her eyes went wide as a fellow dancer left, adjusting her clothes. Cashmere stepped to the side observing before walking inside.

He was sitting in his chair as she shut the door. With her back turned, she felt his golden eyes on her - as if trying to burn a home through her.

A game… she suspected.

“…aren’t you supposed to be keeping a low profile?”

“I told you,” he said, loudly. “I do whatever the fuck I want.”

She stepped into the office and shut the door before finally turning to look at him. He was adjusting his clothes and she could only imagine what had taken place just moments before she knocked. She studied his expression for a brief second before noting the smirking just barely ghosting over his lips.

He was playing a game.

She took a seat and kept her expression even.

“So what now?”

His golden hues narrowed at her blase response. “What now?”

Cashmere nodded. “What are we doing now?”

“Don’t you wanna know who that was?”

“Not really,” she said, shrugging. “I know enough about her from the club to know that you may want to get checked afterward-”

“Don’t be a fucking smart ass.”

Cashmere merely shrugged in response, noting the annoyance in his voice was growing. If he wanted to play this type of game with her, she would make him learn that she was ten times better at it.

“So I’ll ask again,” she continued. “What are we doing now?”

Adam slumped into his chair. His eyes scanned over his paperwork before glancing back at her. “She was boring,” he commented, offhandedly. “Talked too much.”

Her gaze cut to him. “Okay?”

“Okay?” he repeated as his brows fell into a scowl. “That’s all you have to fucking say?!”

Cashmere tilted her head to the side.

“You are so fucking infuriating!”

She glanced down at her nails, inspecting the color carefully. “Sucks when people play mind games, doesn’t it?”

His fists slammed against the table, catching her attention briefly.

“Are you seriously going to sit there and throw a tantrum when you snooped through my phone and thought bringing a coworker here would upset me? I’m not an idiot,” she said, raking her finger through his hair. “This entire trip is just an excuse for you to torment a sinner here and try to get your scrawny dick wet.”

Adam fell silent as his eyes narrowed.

Cashmere sat back in her seat. “Play stupid games,” she said. “Win stupid prizes.”

His fists tightened. His knuckles turned white.

Satisfaction was evident on her face, knowing that she had pegged him exactly for what he was trying to do. “Now if you’re done being an insufferable wannabe rockstar,” she continued, turning her attention back to inspecting her nails. “We can work on what you were sent here to do.”

Adam opened his mouth to speak.

Cashmere reached across the table and snatched one of the pieces of paper scattered about. She wanted to look over the notes that he had supposedly taken during their last meet-up, but when she looked upon the paper…

“Are you fucking joking?”

Adam scowled again at her. “What?!”

“This is fucking stick figures fucking!”

He looked away from her.

“You didn’t even take notes?!”

Adam scoffed. “I have a brilliant memory. I don’t need notes. All I have to say is bitches like you deserve to be sinners-”

“Aren’t you supposed to understand why!?”

“Does it even matter?”

Cashmere balled her fists. “You know what,” she said, huffing. “It doesn’t to me. But won’t it get you into trouble up there?”

“I’m the original dick,” he snapped. “I’ll never get into trouble.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to as her expression slipped into a judgemental stare.

“I don’t have to fucking answer to the likes of you,” he scowled. “Don’t you fucking judge me!”

“Men are always so sensitive,” she added, sighing.

His golden hues narrowed once again.

“What?” she questioned, leaning back in her chair. When she received no response, she let out a frustrated sigh. “If you’re an example of the angels in Heaven… I would rather be thrown into Hellfire. I’ve dealt with enough misogynist, pig men while I was alive to serve me an entire lifetime of suffering.”

She hadn’t noticed Adam standing up from his desk and slowly making his way toward her. As she continued to rant about pig men, Adam stood behind her chair before quickly grabbing her by the back of the throat, lifting her from her chair, and slamming her onto the desk.

A yelp of pain erupted from the sinner as she felt the weight of his body press against her much smaller frame. She squirmed, trying to break him of his grip but the sheer size he had on her alone - he would overpower her.

“Let me go you fuckface-”

His hand left her neck and slid into her hair before gripping her locks tightly. “You’ve been acting like a fucking spoiled brat all day,” he hissed, leaning into her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this… and I’ll disappear.”

Fuck him. Fuck him.

The tone of his voice sent shivers all the way down her spine before causing her thighs to clench together. Her mind drifted back to that moment of weakness in his apartment.

“Fuck you!”

His mocking laughter filled her ears.

“I’m not hearing no.”

“Let me go or I’ll scream!”

“I’d prefer if you did.”

Cashmere glared at him in response.

“Now be a good kitty cat and listen…”

She scowled under her breath. Was he mocking her demonic, lioness form now?

“I’m not a cat-ow!”

He had tugged on her tail earning a yelp. “Lion… tiger… aren’t they all just oversized house cats?” His gloved fingers slid down the length of her tail. “But it seems I’ve found a way to make you listen.” His fingers grasped her tail again and immediately he sensed Cashmere’s body tense.

“Now,” he said gently. “You’re going to show me exactly why you were sent to Hell in the first place.”

“Let go-” she gasped mid sentence as he tugged on her tail.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this,” he scoffed before he let go of her tail and the free hand slipped up her skirt.

Cashmere was quiet for a moment before quickly elbowing him in the gut, sending him into a string of curses. Wincing at him tugging her hair before letting her go, she quickly moved back to her feet.

A mixture and crimson and black glazed over her eyes as her fangs grew longer. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

A hand raked through his shaggy, dark hair before his lips curled into a sneer. His tongue ran along his lower lip. He took a step toward her.

Cashmere hissed at him.

He opened his mouth to respond but Cashmere took her clawed hand and swiped at his face before Adam lunged forward, snatching her wrist. Quickly, she swiped with her opposite hand but Adam stopped her again. Cashmere tugged, trying to break his grip but instead Adam used his size to pin her against the desk again.

His lips curled into a sneer. “Nice try, kitty cat.”

“Fuck you!”

He leaned in closer. “Gladly.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel Adam x original character #hazbin hotel Adam x oc #Adam x original character #Adam x oc #hazbin hotel x original character #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x you #adam x reader #Adam x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #dividers by cafekitsune

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Retro Reader is attentive, wants to ensure they can help they people they love the best they can, so for situations where they can't just listen/observe what they need i see them going to the others and asking questions, some which no one can answer because the trip never thought to try before.

Questions like:

Is Vox rain proof?

Can Vox hypnotise himself?

Does Val like chewing holes in fabric?

Has Val ever been caught in something like a sticky fly trap?

If Velvette's a doll can she do the 180 head spin (asks this after they see Alastor do it)

If Vox started out with a Box tv head then where is it now as is he still connected to it?

I could also see Retro testing things on themselves and scaring the Vs constantly with the weird things they do 'for science'.

Velvette scared when they see Retro drink a poison, as she didn't know Retro would be fine.

Valentino and Vox forgetting Retro is a Sea Bunny when they fall in the shark tank and Retro doesn't come up for air (funnier if this is how Retro learns the fact as a sea bunny sinner they can breath underwater this way)

“Hey. Hey!” I said, poking Valentino.

“What is it now, mi cariño?” He asked, looking down at me. He seemed tired.

“Is Vox rain proof?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I imagine it’d be a very poor feature to have if he couldn’t handle water. It wouldn’t be particularly easy to be an Overlord if a drop of water could kill you.”

“Oh,” I said. I paused for a moment. “Can he hypnotize himself?”

“No,” Val said with a sigh. “Not that I know of. Not unless he wants to.”

“Darling, Val’s busy,” Vox said, appearing besides me. He took my arm and led me away. “He’s working on a script right now, you’ll only break his concentration.”

“And he’ll start chewing holes in his shirt again if he gets stressed,” I said with a nod. I let Vox walk me around the tower as I imagined how hard it would be to fix his clothes again. “Does he ever get stuck in those little sticky fly traps?”

“We don’t really have any of them, so no,” Vox said, with a small smile. “You’re awfully curious today, aren’t you? Any particular reason?”

I shrugged. “I saw Velvette turn her head all the way around today and I started wondering what traits you guys share with the things your based off of. Speaking of which, what happened to your old head?”

He blinked, then looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”

“You know, the box TV you had back when you and Alastor were friends!” I said lightly.

He shook his head and gripped my arm tighter. “I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he said pointedly. I paused, picking up on his tone, then let the topic drop.

(And yes, everything else Anon mentioned would definitely happen.)

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #thanks anon!

[chandralia]

I’m defending bkdk with my life I don’t care!!!!!!!!

#half the people who slander them don’t even know what the fuck they’re talking about #haven’t even seen the show or dropped it during season 3 #they’re ​just following rumors and trends because it’s easy likes. #bkdk lives in there rent free and it’s pathetic that it’s SUCH a threat lmaoooo #if you’re not caught up you don’t get to speak. #it’s really that simple #evaporate. #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #:’)

[samuraisharkie]

did I SERIOUSLY get called an “absolute walnut” from a tumblr checkmark blog. AIEJGKWJGKDNGM. if I saw sainamoonshine irl I would maul their ableist condescending ass within an inch of their life. not worth it to fight with them bc they clearly don’t care about anyone else’s perspective but jesus fucking CHRIST what a piss poor refutation of me calling them ableist. And in three paragraphs no less!

#I knew it was going to be bad when that serious reply started with action asterisks LMAO #deliberately misinterpreting what I meant by ‘alt text is not for jokes’ too. bitch you KNOW I didn’t mean it that way. die #sainamoonshine is having an absolute TANTRUM that people wanted. a full ID?? #and someone asked for one more than once???? and then you just unload on someone literally just asking for full ID. #their defense isn’t even good 💀 it didn't NEED to be explained it was just for me I didn't think people would want all the WiNdoW dReSsiNg' #what so only people who can see the image without accessibility readers can get the full context?? #so the ppl relying on screen readers don’t get to see the behavior you’re talking about in your caption?? that’s just for the 20/20s?? #the condescending pedantic ass way they did that. I KNOW I shouldn’t reply further but ohhh boy do I want to lol #the violence in my chest when ppl are so rudely and proudly ableist all while thinking they’re not. I think Id genuinely scar them for life #the other reason I’m not gonna do this is because catgirlcowboy was just asking for a fucking ID not tumblr drama #and I KNOW they’d get caught up in it #blogs like that love to make their messes as big and loud as possible #speaking of which I am so sorry an ugly ass double checkmark blog acted out at you for wanting accessibility catgirlcowboy. holy fuck #also I’m never blocking a motherfucker who clearly doesn’t like me but is asking ME to block them lmao #why don’t you do it you little spineless cunt?? no?? won’t do it?? can’t muster up the courage?? too bad then! #I’ll just filter their name out and never actively block them LMAO

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 

It was him. 

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 

Fuck. 

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 

“I would,” 

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 

Fuck. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 

But how can you be quiet? 

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 

He’s huge. 

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 

He was too much. 

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 

“What are you—” 

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 

“Mahito—“ 

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 

“I will,” 

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 

“Have another lesson?” 

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 

Your mouth runs dry. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 

You were picking up your boyfriend. 

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

#sab [mlist] #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo x you #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[badolmen]

…y’all know that (((they/demons/etc.))) is an antisemetic dog whistle right? Right???

#ra speaks #personal #I’m. I’m tired yall. real tired. #it’s getting to a point where it’s getting difficult to assume the best and that whoever put it on my dash didn’t know better #I could excuse it if you were an avid role player who’s only ever seen multiple parentheses used for RP OOC notation #but like….holy shit dude you saw a post with (((demons))) in the reblog chain and chose to reblog that? conciosuly??? #don’t be that guy. jfc. if you didn’t know now you do go forth and be better. it’s indefensible if you know and still choose to ignore it #bc ‘it doesn’t always mean that/it could mean something else/I associate it with RP’ like no. shut up. you’re an informed adult. #stop making excuses like your parent caught you drinking without permission or something.